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lovingmattysposts · 5 months

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Best Friend’s Brother 10

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

summary: you just moved into the sturniolo’s home after some family issues and you’re starting to become attracted to your best friend’s brother and you hated yourself for it. But how could you resist?

warnings: there is a scene where a guy tries to come onto y/n, but it is not in descriptive detail there is no sexual indication in the scene he just trying to kiss her, alcohol, cursing, sad, angst

the long awaited bfb 10....this one is a long one so here you go my loves

xoxo, autumn

chris pov

I felt like absolute shit. I’m a horrible person. A horrible selfish person. All my life I’ve allowed myself to pull away from my wants, her. And it worked. It’s worked for the last four years.

One slip up and now I’ve got bloody hands and no one gets what they want. Even caving into my selfish wants, I didn’t think about how it would effect her. Until it was too late.

She probably thinks the worst of me. I would tell her that I loved her too, but she didn’t deserve that. It would rip her apart. She didn’t understand, how could she?

What was I suppose to say? I’ve been dreaming about the night we had when I kissed you for the past four years? She would look at my like I was crazy.

It was better this way. It was better that she didn’t know. I would die with the secret that I loved her too, even if it ate me alive. She wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t understand if I had admitted that I love her too. She would question me. She wouldn’t understand that I loved her so much that I let her go.

Love was suppose to be the most powerful thing in the word. Nothing else was suppose to matter if you had love. But this was far from the truth. Love meant sacrifice. Sacrificing my wants for what she needed. She didn’t need me. I knew she didn’t need me.

I suck. I’m nothing special. I’m afraid if I tried I would fail and she would end up with no one. I’m not good at acting on love. Hell, I wasn’t even good at feeling it.

I slipped up. I got selfish. This was me redeeming myself. She just didn’t know it. She would get over me. She would fall in love and she would forget about that boy who broke her heart on the roof.

Even if I never will.

I’ve been staying at Elmer's house for a few days now. I didn’t want to see her. I never wanted to go back to that house. I was scared. I was scared to face her. I was scared I would take it all back. I was scared I would tell her how long I’ve loved her.

That I would fall to my knees begging her to pick me and that I would never hurt her ever again. But I didn’t know that. I would try, but love was never promised.

She could change her mind.

After this I’m not sure she would even take me back. But I wasn’t going to do that to Nick, and she wasn't either no matter if she thought she wanted to.

Her heart was too big for her body. I wished I could explain it to her, but I couldn’t.

I felt my phone buzz. I picked it up looking down at the notification.

mia

now where have you been hiding? :) miss u big

I sighed and turned my phone off. The last thing I needed was to be in contact with her again. Elmer walked in making me look up.

“Alright spill it, why have you been hiding out here?” He sighed sitting down next to be. I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m not hiding” I mumbled. He raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” He asked blinking at me. I just looked at him. “Did your brothers do something?” He asked. I shook my head. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head smiling.

“It’s a girl isn’t it? The one staying with you?” He asked looking at me making me look off to the side. He sighed. “What’d you do?” He asked. I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I fucked up I think” I sighed looking at him. “Then fix it” He shrugged. I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that simple” I stated looking at him. He smiled and nodded. “It never is” He stated. I bit my lip and looked to the side.

I walked into the house quietly before walking into the kitchen seeing my mom standing over the stove. She turned at the sound of me walking. "Hey sweetie. How was Elmer's?" She asked turning to look at me. I let out a breath. "Good" I nodded looking down. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"There's something going on isn't there?" She asked looking at me. I looked up at her. "What?" I asked suddenly. She sighed walking over to me. "You think I don't know you? You are my son. I always know when something's wrong" She stated raising her eyebrows at me.

I bit my lip looking off the side. "There's nothing going on" I stated looking at her. She pursed her lips looking at me. She glanced towards the stairs. "Is it something to do with our new guest?" She asked smiling. I let out a breath and looked down.

"You're scared of Nick aren't you?" She asked. I looked up at her. "Okay, that was creepy" I said looking at her, making her smile. "A mother always knows" She said tilting her head at me. I shook my head.

"It's nothing to worry about Mom, It's nothing anymore" I sighed as I walked over to the fridge. She hummed following me. "You're good at hiding your emotions Chris, just don't let that fact kill you" She said rubbing her hand over my back and then walking out of the kitchen.

I sighed as I leaned against the fridge. I wish I could express my emotions as easily as Nick or Matt, but It was hard. I was so scared to get hurt. So badly, that I hurt the one person I cared about in the process.

y/n pov

"Oh, will you go grab a pack of Pepsi? Chris just drank the last one" Nick said rolling his eyes. I felt my chest spike at the name, but I didn't let it show. I never did. I smiled all day long with Nick, laughing pretending everything was normal, then at night I would retreat into my room and cry and cry and cry.

Is it stupid? We weren't even together. It was like a small taste of glory and that was it. The small taste of what love was suppose to feel like and then reality hit and slapped you in the face. It's so weird to think you know someone or think you know how they feel and then to know you just imagined it all.

He hasn't been home these past few days. I think he's hiding from me, which I honestly appreciated. I'm not sure what I was going to do when I saw his face again.

Even his name mad me sick to my stomach.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?" He asked catching my attention. I looked up to see him smiling at me. "Pepsi right" I said shaking my head. "Go please so we can check out" He said shaking his head. I smiled and shook my head as I turned and walked out of the aisle.

I tried to shake the thoughts out of my mind as my eyes scanned the sodas. Don't think about Chris. Don't think about Chris. I spotted the Pepsi.

Chris.

My eyes started to water as I pulled out the pack and held it. I swallowed and pushed back the tears. I never wanted to look at a damn Pepsi can ever again.

I turned to walk out of the aisle to get rid of this out of my hand before I had a meltdown but I paused, seeing a famailar face.

"Mom?"

She turned and looked at me. She smiled walking back over to me. I stood frozen. "Hello" She sighed crossing her arms over her chest. I swallowed as I looked at her. The last time I saw her I told her I wasn't her daughter anymore.

"Glad to see you're alive" She said looking at me and raising an eyebrow. I clenched my jaw and looked to the side, attempting to adjust my grip of the pack of Pepsi.

"I thought I wasn't your mother anymore" She said looking at me. I blinked up at her. "You never acted like one in the first place" I mumbled looking at her. She rolled her eyes.

"So you've got a boyfriend now?" She asked raising her eyebrow. I furrowed my eyebrows looking up at her. "What are you talking about?" I asked shaking my head. She sighed as she shifted on her feet.

"The boy that came storming in my house and packed all of your things wasn't your boyfriend?" She asked shaking her head. My face dropped. Chris. She was talking about Chris. When he went to my house and got my things. My books. He went face to face with my mother just to get my things. My heart clenched.

"Chris?" I asked. She shrugged. "Is that his name?" She asked. I looked to the side clenching my jaw. "We're not together" I mumbled. She sighed. "Shame. He's cute" She said smiling at me. I glared at her for talking about him.

"Reminds me of your father when he was his age" She said making my grip the soda harder. "Chris is nothing like my father" I said through clenched teeth. She rolled her eyes. "From the way he stormed into the house, I didn't see much difference" She said glaring at me. I dropped the soda walking up to her.

"Don't speak about him like that. He's kind, he would never hurt me" I spat in her face. She raised her eyebrows, unfazed by my approach on her. "So defensive" She breathed. "Makes me think he already has" She said blankly. I swallowed feeling tears come to my eyes.

"I don't have time for this" I huffed stepping back and picking up the soda harshly. "He came back" She said making me stop. I turned back to her. "Your father. He's back" She swallowed looking at me. I bit my lip as I looked at her feeling chills run up my spine. Fighting the urge to ask her if she was okay.

"I don't care" I whispered before turning and walking back toward Nick, trying to shake the conversation that just happened. Nick looked up at me. "Where have you been? Did you get lost?" He joked smiling at me. I turned looking back but seeing no sign of my mother.

"No, I'm fine" I said looking back at him smiling attempting to shake all feeling and emotion of knowing my father was back in town.

"So when do I get to meet Holton?" I asked peering over his phone. He pulled his phone to his chest, looking over at me. "Soon" He stated going back to his texts. I rolled my eyes. "I'm starting to think he's not real" I rolled my eyes leaning back against his headboard. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh he's real alright" He smiled. I cringed and pushed him. "Dude, gross" Matt said from across from us, making me laugh. He set his phone down turning it off and turning towards me, smiling. "You really like him" I stated looking at his face. He smiled and looked down.

"Yeah" He breathed. "I thought it would be scary, but it's not" He shook his head. I just watched him as he spoke. "like being in love? It's pretty cool you know?" He smiled up at me. I swallowed and looked down.

"Well I guess you don't, but still you can imagine" He smiled placing his hand on my knee. I smiled softly up at him and nodded looking over at Matt who was now tuned out of the conversation.

"Yeah I can imagine" I said softly. He sighed leaning back and turning on his TV. I leaned back crossing my arms over my chest trying not to let his words effect me.

Suddenly I heard the door open making my heart drop, because I knew before I looked up who it was going to be. He peeked his light brown hair through the door and peered in making Matt and Nick look up. I stared down at my lap, not even letting myself look up at him. I was too scared.

"Hey" Matt said looking up from his phone. I felt Chris look over at me, but I stayed looking at my lap. "Hey, I'm going out. Don't wait up" Chris mumbled. I picked at my nails as a million thoughts ran through my head. Where was he going? Why was he going out? Who was he going with?

"Oh yeah, you're going to that party with Mia right?" Matt said looking up at him. I physcially felt my heart sink into my chest, feeling my emotions rush through me all the way to my fingertips. Like a wave of sadness rushing through me. I looked up catching Chris's eyes. I bit my lip and looked away, pretending it didn't effect me, but I had to forced the tears out of my eyes.

"Yeah I-" He paused. I didn't look up, but I felt my eyes start to sting. Already? He's moved on already? It hasn't even been a week and he was already going out with her? I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"I won't be long" He mumbled. I took in a breath. I was strong, but I didn't know If I was this strong. "Okay" Nick said looking up at him. Chris looked over at me one last time before sighing and closing the door.

And that was it.

He was gone.

In more ways than one.

There was someone else already. And I told him I loved him. I was heartbroken and he was going out with someone else. I swallowed. Don't think about it. Don't break. Not in front of Nick.

"Hey, can you go get some waters please?" Nick asked after a few seconds looking over at me. I looked over at him. "Seriously?" I asked. He pouted and looked over at me. I sighed before standing up off the bed. "You're the best friend everrr" He sang as I walked toward his door. I turned and looked at him shaking my head. "I know" I laughed as I closed the door.

The hallway was dark and quiet. I swallowed the all familar fear of maybe seeing or running into Chris being in the front of my head. But he wasn't even here. He was already gone. I didn't know where he went, it's not like he would tell me. I tried not to care, I really tried but it's all I could think about.

I started to walk down the hallway, glancing by his door picturing the scene of us kissing agaisnt the wall feeling my stomach clench. His lips were so soft. His eyes were so blue. Best of all he was him. We were together. I shook my head shaking the imagine from my head as I walked down the stairs.

I sighed as I walked into the kitchen, freezing in place seeing Chris standing leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me before freezing as well. Silence between us. Just looking at each other. I thought he'd be gone by now.

"Sorry, I was just getting some waters" My voice cracked as I walked up to the fridge, he just watched me. I let out a breath as I stared into the fridge, but I couldn't focus knowing his eyes were on me.

My hands shook as I reached for the waters, begging my emotions to stay deep in my chest. I looked up at him, he just looked at me. I closed the fridge looking at him. "So" I breathed looking down. "Where have you been?" I said quietly looking at him. He bit his lip as he looked at me.

"Elmer's" He stated. I nodded looking down. "How have you been?" He swallowed looking at me. I looked down at the waters, as if they were the most interesting thing in the room. "Good" I lied, and I felt the lie so deep in my chest it hurt me to say it. He let out a breath.

"That's good" He breathed. I looked up at him. He glanced at me. "How are you?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded and looked down. "Yeah, good" He whispered. I swallowed. This was hard. Is this how it was always going to be? So painful?

"Thought you had a party to go to" I swallowed looking at him. He looked at me letting out a breath. "I was about to leave" He nodded. I nodded looking at the ground. "So Mia-" I sighed, I couldn't help myself.

"It's not like that. She just needed someone to go with" He said shaking his head. I looked up at him nodding softly. I swallowed looking down at my feet.

"I saw my mom today" I blurted out making him look up at me with a concerned face. "You did? Where?" He asked stepping towards me. I just watched him. "The grocery store" I whispered. He looked down at me. "She said my dad was back" I swallowed. His face dropped.

"A-Are you okay? What else did she say?" He asked suddenly. I licked my lips and looked to the side. I felt his eyes on me burning into me. I sighed and looked down.

"She asked about my boyfriend" I mumbled and looked up at him. His eyes studied mine, confusion on his face. "The one who got all my stuff from her house" I said looking at him. He sighed and looked down. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I felt tears in my eyes.

"I can't go back there Chris" I whispered shaking my head. "I'm so scared that he knows where I am" My voice broke. "I can't see him again I-" I cried. I felt him wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest. "It's okay y/n, you don't have to go back there." He whispered against the top of my head as I shook against him.

I let out a hard breath, leaning back and wiping my eyes. he placed his hand on my face wiping my tears before pausing and pulling his hand back. I sighed and looked away from him.

"Why did you do this to me Chris?" I whispered looking away from him. He stayed silent next to me. I glanced over at him. "You broke my heart" I whispered shaking my head. He clenched his jaw and looked to the side.

"Did you even like me?" I cried shaking my head. "Was it worth it?" I asked as he looked over at me. "What was the point?" I said loudly shaking my head. He just stared at me.

"Was it just a game to see if i'd fall for it?" I asked unable to control the words coming out of my chest. "Y/n" He sighed. "No i get it" I shook my hands stepping back from him.

"I don't get a happy ending. I get that. I've known that for a long time" I stated looking at him. "The only part that's fucked up Chris, is that you knew that" I shook my head. "I told you everything with my family and you listened" I said clenching my jaw.

"If it was some game then why did you let me talk to you about that? Did you even care?" I cried shaking my head. He stepped towards me. "Of course I cared" He said looking down at me.

"You don't" I shook my head. "You never did" I swallowed. He just looked sadly at me as I stood in front of him, biting my lip. "Chris why did you let me fall in love with you if you knew you were going to take it all away?" I asked shaking my head pleading for answers. He looked down.

"You don't love me" He whispered. I sighed stepping forwards. "Yes I do. Chris I love you" I stated shaking my head. He looked up at me with an expression I couldn't read.

"You what?"

I froze. Chris froze. My eyes went wide as I looked at Chris. He looked behind me, all color draining from his face. I turned and saw Nick standing there staring at us with a confused expression on his face. I felt my heart start to beat out of my chest as I stared at my best friend.

No. No. No. No.

"Nick" I stepped towards him. He stepped back looking between us. I swallowed as he looked over at Chris. "Chris?" Nick whispered. Chris stood frozen. "Nick, I can explain. I'll explain everything just--" I started to say but he just shook his head stepping back.

"Oh my god" He breathed looking down before turning and walking out. Tears poured out of my eyes. "Nick please wait--" I cried but I felt my arm being pulled back. I turned and saw Chris shaking his head.

"Wait y/n" He said. I pulled my arm away from him. "Don't" I swallowed. "Don't touch me" I said shaking my head as I turned and followed Nick outside. I pushed the door open.

"Y/n don't" He stated warningly as he walked down the driveway. "Nick, please just let me explain" I cried as I walked up to him. He shook his head and didn't look at me as he unlocked his car.

"Nick please. It's not what it looks like" I shook my head. He glared over at me. "Really? Because it looks like you were just telling my brother you were in love with him" He spat looking over at me. My lip quivered as I looked at my best friend who looked at me like I was a stranger.

"Please" I whispered. He clenched his jaw. "So what? Were you just using me to get close to Chris?" He asked looking away from him. I shook my head. "What? No Nick. No, you are the most important person in my life. Please just listen to me" I said quickly. He looked down at me.

"I was not using you, you have to believe me. It just happened" I breathed looking at him. "I don't believe anything you say and I never will again" He breathed before opening the car door and closing it. I just watched him, tears streaming down my face as he pulled out of the driveway.

I swallowed turning back towards the house seeing Chris standing in the doorway. He looked down at me, worry plastered all over his face. I just shook my head and looked away from him as a sob escaped my throat. I pushed past him and ran up the stairs, hearing no footsteps following me as I slammed my door and pressed my back against it.

I covered my mouth to cover the noise of my sobs as I fell against the door sliding down it, as the tears poured out of eyes. I shook my head. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. Please let this be a dream. I cried against my hand, the muffled noise of my cries the only thing echoing through the room.

I tried to breathe but I couldn't. I didn't know what to do. I lost both of them. I was completely and utterly alone.

I don't know how I got here. My feet just led me here. It wasn't hard to find the address. Just one text message now I stood outside of a loud house party. I tilted my head. I stopped crying on my way here. Now I was just numb. Coming into an acceptance of my fate and what I did to get me to this point.

Now I was just here. Looking at all of the people standing outside of the house. Laughing. Smiling. Happy. I swallowed. I could be like them. I could try. Hell, I had nothing left. I could try.

I looked down at my feet and I thought about everywhere I had gone. Everything I had experienced. They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe that was true. But if I never loved him, I would still be happy. I would still have my best friend.

So maybe that was all bullshit.

"You just gonna stand there or you walking in?" A guy said walking beside me. I looked up at him. He stopped and smiled at me. His hair was longer, kind of like Chris. But it wasn't Chris. It was just some other kid. I swallowed.

"I haven't decided yet" I stated wrapping my arms around myself. He smiled and shook my head. "Do I know you?" He asked tilting his head at me. I shrugged. "I don't think so" I stated. He smiled and nodded towards the party.

"So I take it you weren't invited?" He asked looking at the house. "What?" I asked looking at him. "This is my house" He said shrugging chuckling slightly. I looked at the house and then towards the boy. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know" I mumbled looking down at my feet. He shook his head stepping towards me.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You can come in if you want" He stated looking at me. I swallowed turning towards the house. The loud music. It was all overwhelming. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should just go home.

But I didn't know if Nick had gone back yet, or if he wanted to see me yet. That scared me more than the party.

I turned back to him. "You left your own house party?" I asked looking back at him. He smiled holding up a black bag. "Just to get more alcohol" He stated looking at the bag. I looked over the bag. "Alcohol?" I asked as I stared at the bag. He moved the bag back down to his side, chuckling slightly.

"Are you from here?" He asked. I nodded. "I went to Somerville" I stated looking at him. He nodded. "So you aren't from space" He stated making me furrow my eyebrows. "What?" I asked staring at him. He smiled pulling out a bottle.

"You looked at the alcohol like you didn't know what it was" He stated looking at me. I let out a breath. "Yeah, no I know what it is" I nodded swallowing. He smiled.

"I'm Paxton" He said holding out a hand. I looked down at him before shaking it loosely. "Y/n" I stated. He smiled and nodded. "Will you please come into my party y/n?" He asked tilting his head at me making me smile. I let out another hard breath.

"Yeah, I guess" I stated nodding. He smiled and motioned me towards the house. I followed him looking down at my shoes, absolutely terrified to see Chris. I couldn't see Chris. What was I doing here?

We walked into the loud house, the noise overwhemling me. I scanned the room breifly, not seeing any sign of Chris or that Mia girl. Which at this point I didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

"Hey" I heard his voice again making me look over at him. He motioned me over to him, I hadn't noticed I stopped walking. I moved through the crowd of people before he stopped in front of a counter pulling out bottles of liquor out of the bag and grabbing some cups.

I just watched him, scanning the vodka and jack laid in front of me. My heart beating out of my chest. Visions of a Jack bottle being thrown at the wall beside my head flashing through my mind as he placed a cup out in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked looking up at him. He smiled over at me. "I'm getting you a drink" He stated as if it was the polite thing to do. "Oh I don't know" I said shaking my head. He raised his eyebrows. "You can't come to my party and not drink" He stated looking down at me.

I attempted to move past the cockiness in his voice. I only liked when Chris did that. Chris. I felt my heart clench. No. Numb. Forget. You're fine. You're okay.

He took the vodka and unscrewed it before pouring quite a bit into my cup. I just watched as he poured it. He picked up a sprite bottle before pouring that into my cup as well, just not as much as the vodka.

He did the same in his cup. He picked up both cups before handing me mine. I looked down at the cup and then up at him. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me. I looked down at the cup.

My parents always got angry when they drank, but I looked around and no one looked angry. They all looked happy. They all looked like they were actually happy. Maybe I was missing something. Maybe alcohol wasn't bad, maybe I just programed myself to think that way. Just because of my parents. Maybe It would be different for me. It wouldn't hurt to try it. If I hated it I would stop.

"Fuck it" I said looking up at him. He smiled and nodded. "Fuck it" He agreed as we both lifted the cups to our mouths. At first it tasted like sprite, but as I swallowed and took a breath a horrible taste of hand sanitizer filled my mouth.

I squeezed my eyes shut and coughed, tasting the alcohol. He laughed down at me. "You okay?" He asked placing his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, shaking my head. "That tastes horrible" I shook my head. He shrugged. "It's get better the more you drink it" He said nodding at me. I looked up at him and then back down at the drink.

I drank a bit more slowly trying to get it down. I shivered and looked at him. He laughed lightly. "See you're a natural" He smiled. I smiled and shook my head. "Thanks" I said shaking my head.

"So you've got a boyfriend?" He asked leaning into me. I sighed and looked down. "Not exactly" I said looking up at him. He just looked down at me. His eyes were brown. I didn't like brown eyes. I liked Chris's blue eyes. They were pretty. His were just dark.

"Not exactly?" He question. I rolled my eyes lifting my drink up to my lips again. "No, I don't have a boyfriend" I stated looking up at him. He nodded tilting his cup up and finishing his drink. I just watched him. How did he drink it that fast?

"You gotta catch up love" He smiled pointing down at my drink. I stared at him. Love? Everything about this felt wrong, because it wasn't with Chris. But I knew I would never have this with Chris. Not again. I swallowed.

This wasn't what I was here to do. Mourn over my relationship with Chris. I was here to forget. To be numb. To be normal. For one night.

I nodded before lifting the cup up my lips and drinking the rest of it, trying not to focus on the taste. He cheered next to me as I shook my head. "I'll get you another one" He smiled taking my cup. I just looked up at him. This was going to be a long night.

After he refilled my cup four times, I was drunk. I didn't know I was drunk for a little bit but when I turned and it felt like I was on a carousel, i knew I was. This is what It feels like huh? I giggled to myself leaning over laughing slightly.

The taste did get better the more I drank. And the punch line of Paxton's jokes became funnier. But now I couldn't really stand up straight. It was like I lost the ability to move around with ease. And I lost the abiltiy to take anything seriously. My body felt fuzzy and I hadn't even thought about Chris. It was working.

I reached for the bottle slightly stumbling. "Woah there" Paxton said grabbing my waist. I smiled and shook my head as I pulled the bottle towards me. "I want more" I said closing my eyes. He took the bottle out of my hands.

"You want more? Are you sure?" He asked. I opened my eyes and It was almost like I was looking at Chris. They looked very similar. Except for the eyes. The eyes reminded me that he wasn't him. No one was.

I nodded. "I do" I smiled. He shook his head as he poured more into my cup. I smiled and pulled the cup towards me, lifting it up my mouth. I downed the whole thing putting the cup back down. He raised his eyebrows at me. I smiled loosing my footing slightly stumbling against him. He held me up.

"Have you ever drank before?" He asked looking down at me. I sighed pushing off of him. "No" I smiled. He sighed shaking his head. "But this is fun" I smiled pressing my hands against my face. He shook his head before grabbing my hand and dragging me through the party.

"Where are we going?" I smiled pulling him towards me. He looked back at me. "We're sitting down, you can't stand" He stated as we walked into the living room and sitting down on the couch. I felt the music move through my body, like it was speaking directly to me. I smiled at the feeling.

"I'm doing a great job standing, look" I motioned to myself I stood in front of him spinning around and slightly stumbling into someone. They turned glaring at me. "Sorry" I laughed.

"She's fine Tyler, she's just showing me how good she is at standing" Paxton said looking over at the boy. He turned to me. "Yeah?" He asked looking at me. "I'm doing a great job" I nodded at him. He shook his head.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked looking down at me. I shurgged looking over at Paxton. "She's had like five drinks" He stated. Tyler looked down at me scanning my figure. "With your body weight? You're fucked" He laughed at me. I glared at him.

"I'm fine" I stated walking over to sit next to Paxton. "Yeah, she's fine" He stated for me. I looked over at him. He put his arm on the back of the couch behind my head. I glanced at him before leaning forward.

I really didn't want him getting the wrong idea. "So what made you show up to my party Y/n?" He asked leaning into me. I shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to party" I smiled at him. He looked down at my lips. "Yeah?" He whispered. I nodded turning away from him.

"I don't think i've ever seen a girl as pretty as you" He whispered making me look up at him. I just blinked at him. "Yeah? Look around the room" I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling the room start to spin as that last drink began to hit me. Oh no.

I swallowed. The room's not spinning y/n focus. He spoke but I didn't hear him. I looked up at him, my vision going in and out. All I saw was him staring at me.

"I think I drank too much" I breathed, the room beginning to feel stuffy. He smiled and nodded. "I think you drank too much because someone didn't treat you right" I heard him say. I furrowed my eyebrows leaning back against the couch, feeling it took too much energy to sit up anymore.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked looking at him. He shrugged. "You're a pretty girl, and you came here alone" He stated. I looked away from him, realizing just how close he was to me.

I put my hand against his chest pushing him back, moving my face away. He grabbed my hand and leaned into me. "What?" He smiled. I turned my head away as I felt him grip my leg. My heart beat out of my chest.

"I'm not kissing you" I stated quickly, smelling the alcohol on his breath. "Why not? You're pretty" He whispered leaning in towards my neck. I didn't have the mental capacity to push him away. I shook my head, feeling sweat beading at my forehead. Oh god what did i do?

I felt his lips graze my neck before I felt him being pulled off of me completely. I looked up the room spinning but I could make out someone holding the guy by the shirt, he was now standing.

"Get off her" He said clenching his jaw staring at the dude. He pushed the dude back making him stumbling back into some people. I let out a breath when I realized it was Chris. Paxton glared back at him.

"Dude this one is mine, get your own" Paxton yelled back at him. Chris charged up to him, but pushing him back. "That is my own. She's mine" He said hovering over the dude. I've never seen Chris so angry. I felt myself start to breath heavily.

"Chris" I breathed. His head snapped to me before leaning down next to me. "Are you okay?" He asked looking down at me. I smiled from his presence and nodded, laying against him. He froze.

"Are you drunk?" He asked making me giggle against him. He grabbed my arm pulling me to my feet. "Ow" I said holding my arm back. He turned to me. "Why the hell are you drinking?" He asked looking at me. I frowned looking at my shoes.

"Why are you yyyyelling at me?" I said looking up at him. He took in a breath closing his eyes. "Chris? What are you doing? Who is this?" I heard a voice come up to us. I turned seeing the perfect blonde barbie right next to me. I smiled slightly. Mia.

"Y/n don't" I heard Chris's voice.

"You're the girl who he fucks" I said pointing at her. Her eyes went wide. "What? Who the hell are you?" She said crossing her arms over her chest. I looked over at Chris smiling. "Apparently his" I said leaning into his chest. Her face hardened. Chris put his hands on my shoulder pushing me back up.

"What?" Her face turned to Chris. Chris sighed. "Is this why you won't even kiss me?" She tilted her head. I put my hand over my mouth to muffle a laugh. If I was sober, I would not find this siutation funny. But right now it was the funniest thing i've ever seen.

"No--Yes--Kinda. I can't have this conversation right now. I have to get her home" Chris said shaking his head and wrapping his arm under me holding me up. I smiled at her as she glared at me. "She can't handle herself? Chris you came here with me" She said angrily.

"And now he's leaving with me" I smiled. "Stop talking" Chris said looking down at me. I just smiled and looked down at the ground. "Mia, I'm sorry" He shook his head as we turned and moved us through the crowd.

We walked outside the fresh air hitting me. I stumbled over gripping the railing, swallowing back a gag. I didn't know alcohol was suppose to make you lose every sense you had. I couldn't even stand.

"Y/n" Chris sighed as he grabbed my waist, pulling me up. I groaned leaning into his chest. We walked down the steps and I swallowed feeling his hands around me a little too much. I felt my lip quiver.

"Chris get off" I pushed him, stumbling but then straighting out and looking at him. He sighed shaking his head. "What?" I spat shaking my head. "What?" He asked raising his eyebrows. "What? Really? You want to know what?" He asked stepping towards me. I turned my head crossing my arms over my chest.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" He asked stepping up to me. I clenched my jaw and looked away from him. "Getting drunk with a random dude?" He asked shaking his head. I swallowed feeling tears prick at my eyes. "How could you be so irresponsible?" He asked towering over me.

"You can't be that stupid, really. Something bad could have happened. You don't know him, you don't know what he was thinking--" He said shaking his head. "And you do?" I asked shaking my head. "I have a few ideas from the way he was grabbing you" He clenched his jaw. I shook my head.

"Sorry, did you want me to let him continue?" He asked throwing his hands up. "No!" I screamed at him. "Chris I don't want any man to touch me ever again but you!" I screamed at him. "Don't you see how much you destroyed me? And you don't even care!" i yelled at him shaking my head. His angry face softened as I yelled at him.

"You don't even care" I whispered shaking my head feeling tears come to my eyes. He sighed walking up to me and placing his hand on my shoulder. "Y/n, just sit down" He said softly. I pushed his hand off me.

"No" I cried pushing his hand off me. "I'll just go home so you can get back to your girlfriend" I said looking up at him, feeling tears come down my face. "She's not my girlfriend and she's never going to be my girlfriend" He stated calmly. "Yeah and why's that?" I mumbled looking at him. He bit his lip and looked at me.

I shook my head turning my head. "You're right. I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry I ruined your party" I mumbled walking past him. He grabbed my arm. "No" He said pulling me back to him. I looked up at him.

"Don't walk away" He stated. I ripped my arm. "What? You can but I can't?" I asked looking at him. He stepped towards me. "Not while you're this drunk. No you can't" He shook his head at me. I swallowed. "I'm not that drunk" I lied. He raised his eyebrows looking down at me.

"Yeah walk in a straight line" He said pointing to the side. I glared up at him before moving to where he pointed as I put one foot in front of the other. I stared down at my feet as I attempted to walk. I held my hands out for balance, but still stumbled.

"Okay, stop" He said walking up to me, grabbing my arm. I pushed him off me. "No I can do it" I swallowed as I continued to walk. He sighed stepping back, but I still stumbled over.

"Y/n stop" He said again. Tears filled my eyes. "No" I cried. He walked up to me grabbing my waist. "Stop" He whispered looking down at me shaking his head. I looked down as tears ran down my face.

"I lost everyone" I cried shaking my head. He just looked down at me. "I don't have anyone, no one loves me" I cried placing my head against his chest. He bit his lip as he looked down at me.

"I'm so scared Chris" I cried. He held me against him.

"I love you"

My cries stopped as the silence of the air surrounded us. I pulled back looking up at him. He looked down at me, concern all over his face. "I love you, y/n" He said again. I stepped back shaking my head.

"N-No you don't" I said shaking my head. He held his hands up. "Why do you think i'm acting like this?" He asked looking at me. "What like going out with other girls? Is that what you're referring to? You don't love me" I shook my head at him. He stepped towards me.

"I love you so much. It's killing me" He said shaking his head. I just watched him. "I've loved you for so long that i'm afraid if i tell you, i'll scare you. I love you so much, it's killing me" He said shaking his head. I just blinked at him.

I held my arm out, putting my hand to my chest. "Y/n? What's wrong?" He asked grabbing my arm. I pushed him away. "Are you okay?" He asked quickly. I shook my head as I leaned over.

He moved next to quickly grabbing my hair as I puked everything I drank onto the ground next to us. He sighed, rubbing my back as I puked. I groaned as I wiped my mouth.

"Are you okay?" He asked leaning down to me. I sighed and sat down on the ground laying down looking up. He sighed smiling slightly down at me before laying down next to me.

"That was really gross" I mumbled, making him chuckle. "It happens to the best of us" He said turning his head and looking over at me. I looked over at him. He smiled sadly at me.

"Do you really?" I whispered. He nodded. "So badly" He whispered back making me close my eyes. I sighed looking back to the sky. "I get why my parents drink" I stated. He just looked at me.

"I forgot about you for a while" I said turning back to him. Hurt plastered all over his face. "It worked until it didn't" I mumbled. He licked his lips.

"We're you going to kiss that guy if I didn't pull him off of you?" He asked slightly. I sat up, he sat up with me. "No" I said looking down at my lap. "Why not?" He asked looking at me. "He didn't have blue eyes" I said smiling slightly looking up at him. He smiled looking down at me.

"Were you going to kiss that girl?" I asked looking at him. He shook his head. "Why not?" I asked. "She's beautiful" I whispered looking down. "She's not even in the same world as you" He whispered making bit my lip.

I stood up.

"I can't Chris" I shook my head. He stood up quickly. "Why not?" He asked looking down at me. I shook my head. "You've done nothing but hurt me, why should I trust anything you say? All you do is hurt me" I sighed shaking my head. He sighed looking down.

"I'll explain everything when you're sober y/n I promise" He said shaking his head. I swallowed looking away. "Chris I can't" I whispered again. "Y/n please. I'm begging you. I'm so sorry" He said grabbing my hands. I shook my head.

"I'm not doing this again" I swallowed looking up at him. He shook his head. "No" He whispered. I pulled my hands back. "I'm sorry" I whispered stepping back and turning.

"Y/n, wait please don't do this" He said as I walked away. I just looked down. "Y/n, wait I have to tell you something" He said but I didn't stop I just kept walking.

"It's about Nick" He breathed making me stop in my tracks. I turned and looked at him, my heart starting to beat. I just stared at me.

He closed his eyes and turned his head.

"It's Holton" He said. I stepped towards him. "What about Holton?" I asked looking at him. He swallowed. He pointed towards the house.

"He was in there" He stated. I looked towards the house, shaking my head not understanding. "He was kissing someone" He said softly. I felt my heart drop. No. My heart broke for Nick.

"He was kissing a girl"

With that I was completely sober.

woahhh that was a long oneeeee hope u loved it sorry if it was all over the place

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #spotify #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #Spotify

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cleoluvrr · 7 months

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high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - prologue

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

“get the hell out of my house, rafe! i don’t care!” your voice was raspy with anger and frustration as you yelled in rafe’s face. your skin was damp with fresh tears, neck covered in the salty trail leaking from your eyes. “i’m not doing this shit with you anymore!”

your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was at the foot of your bed, burning eyes glaring down at your seated frame. you know why he came over, but seeing as the two of you ended on bad terms just a couple weeks ago, you were less than pleased to see him. it wasn’t really a mutual separation–it was more one of force. you told him you were leaving him–and you did–but in rafe’s head, he never left you.

rafe wasn’t a nice guy most of the time, not even to you. you knew that when he pursued you, but you still gave him the benefit of the doubt. you told yourself that it was just a defense mechanism, that he would get nicer the longer you two were together. when the cruel behavior continued well into your relationship, you realized just how wrong you were.

the name-calling, the violent behavior directed towards both you and others, the raging cocaine addiction that he wasn’t even trying to overcome; it was all too much for you. hence, why you broke it off after years of trying to find a more sympathetic side of him. he had one, you knew that for a fact, but it wasn’t enough to ignore all of his shortcomings.

“that’s not how that works, y/n. are you fucking stupid, or something?” rafe looked at you incredulously, top lip flipped up in an almost disgusted snarl.

“what do you mean ‘that’s not how it works?’” the frustration you felt was only amplified, face screwed up from being unable to process the gall he possessed to let those words leave his mouth. “i said that we’re done. over, finished. i explained to you why we’re finished very simply–you’re a piece of shit, rafe. and until you’re not, we’re going to stay finished.”

the chance that he would ever stop being a terrible person was minimal. it had to run in his dna–maybe it skipped sarah and wheezie, but the trait definitely passed from ward unto his son.

you’d seen the way his father spoke to him. you were the one he came to late at night when he’d storm off after an argument, drunk, high, or crossed out of his mind. you nursed his bruises, bloody noses, and sore knuckles after their physical altercations. he never had someone truly care for him growing up, and being raised by a monster only turned him into one.

it was easy to look at the broken boy and have your heart ache for him. how could someone be mad at him for lashing out when that was the only way he was taught to express his feelings? it was even harder to nurse your own bruises that resulted in his unhealed, internal ones. which is why you had to put an end to it in the first place.

“there’s no way you think i’m letting you leave me, y/n,” he says dryly. “after all the investments i made in you? you might be crazier than me.” the taller man lets out a humorless laugh as he rakes his nimble fingers through the blonde locks atop his head.

“what fucking investments, rafe? the jewelry?”

you push yourself off your bed and shove past him, the dresser behind him becoming the new target of your rage. yanking open the jewelry box neatly sitting atop the piece of furniture, you ravage it for every ring, necklace, and pair of earrings rafe ever gifted you. turning around to face him, you toss it at his feet in a messy pile, the metal scattering around the floor and knocking against his shoes noisily.

“there you go, rafe! do you want the clothes, too?” you go to your closet door and rip it open, the box full of clothes that rafe bought you sitting neatly in the corner where you left it a week ago after packing it all away. the box scrapes against the hardwood floor as you pull it out of its hiding spot. “here! take it! take all your ‘investments’ back! ”

“y/n-” rafe tries to speak but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone hitting him square in the jaw. he bought that too, and he could take it for all you cared.

“there’s your phone, too.” it took everything in you not to smirk in satisfaction at seeing him wince in pain from the heavy object hitting him directly in the face, but it only lasted a second before you realized it was a bad idea. escalating to physical violence was never a thing you did. “now take your shit and leave.”

a few months ago, you would have never thought of doing anything like that. in fact a few months ago you were too scared to even raise your voice at him, let alone throw your phone at him with intentions to harm him.

it took you two months to even find the courage to break things off with him. you feared what was to come if you were to do something as drastic as that, but you knew that it had to happen eventually. even then you weren’t this bold, and the way rafe remained deathly still in front you stood as a reminder why you never were.

“i know you didn’t mean to do that…” rafe trails off, eyes closed as his tongue pokes though the side of his cheek in poorly hidden vexation. “you’re just angry, so i’m gonna pretend you didn't do that.” he squats down slowly to examine the jewelry laid out at his feet.

he pokes around wordlessly, the sound of the collection softing scraping against the floor taking over the silence of the room. you observe as he picks up a familiar silver piece, blinking rapidly as he rises back to his full height with it pinched between his fingers.

the square-shaped mark on his face where the phone made contact with him appears to be a deeper red as he approaches you, the few feet between you crossed in seconds with his long legs. you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth, breath hitching nervously when he reaches for you. the feeling of the cool metal of the necklace falling into the dip of your clavicle makes you flinch instinctively as rafe clasps it behind your neck.

“you are my shit, y/n.” the taller man hums as his fingers adjust the pendant resting against your chest. “i invested my time, money, and energy into you not only because i love you, but because i expect a return on it. so, unless i’m leaving here with you, i’m not going anywhere.”

rafe’s hand so close to your neck had you frozen in place, unsure of what his next move would be. even after years of being with him, he was still far too unpredictable and unstable to feel easy around when you could feel the agitation dripping from his pores.

“on our first anniversary, i told you i couldn’t see myself with anyone else. on our second anniversary, i gave you a promise ring–” his free hand reaches down for the hand still adorned by the diamond studded ring he gifted you almost a year ago. you never took it off, but right now you wish that you had the strength to. “and i promised that i was going to marry you one day. you were going to be my beautiful wife, you would have my beautiful children, and everyone would wish they were us.”

“why are you–” you abruptly go silent when you catch the look he gives you, blue eyes dark with a calm rage that you’d learned to fear the most over everything. you shut your mouth immediately at the wordless instruction.

“you promised to love me.” he holds up his hand to show the matching promise ring wrapped around his own finger. “you promised to accept that i was fucked up. you promised that you would be there to wipe my tears, and that you could handle all my shit, even if it hurt you. if you think i’m gonna sit here and let you fuck me over–let you waste my time? let you just–just leave?”

he shakes his head at you, both of his hands reaching up to plant themselves on the sides of your face. his palms are warm against your skin, the feeling of his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. you blinked up at him, eyes wide as your heart pounds against your chest. his own eyes were still dark and angry, but you could see the pure love pouring out of them though the seam between his blown out pupils and the blue of his iris.

you inhaled deeply when the blonde leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your mouth. it was hard to remain stoic in your reaction, especially when he pulled away with your sticky, pink gloss coating his plush lips.

“you’re not leaving me that easy.” he whispers softly into the little space between your faces. it was instinctive to gulp out of fear–the barely contained, frightened whimper pushed back down your throat with the action. “if i lose you, it will be by my own hands. it won’t be because you get a little scared when shit gets real.”

rafe is granted silence as you continue to stare up at him with your lips drawn together tightly. he sighs heavily, sensing the fear radiating off of your body. you feel his hands pull you into his chest, one of them dropping to your waist to hug you close to him as he rests his head on top of yours.

“i will fucking kill you before i ever let you leave, y/n. do you understand that?” you say nothing in response, sure that your voice will tremble more than you want it to. you believed every word that came out of his mouth deep down, and the seriousness of his demeanor only justified your sense of foreboding. “answer me. do you understand?”

you remain silent for a heavy second, mouth completely devoid of moisture and heart pumping too rapidly to speak steadily.

“yes, rafe.” you nodded against his chest and you felt him exhale, almost in a way that resembled relief. “i understand. i’m sorry…” you weren’t sure what you were even apologizing for, but it was something you were so used to doing to save your own ass.

“it’s okay, baby, i know.” he plants his lips to your scalp sweetly before pulling away just a couple centimeters. “i know it gets hard sometimes– i know i’m hard, and i’m sorry for that. i’m really trying.”

“i know.” you say weakly, the words all but muffled by the shirt your face was buried into.

you felt him nod above you before he placed another kiss on your head.

“i love you so, so much.” rafe whispers into your hair, the air of his words against your scalp sending chills down your back.

you nod in response, submitting to the silence that weighs heavy on your tongue.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x oc #obx2 #obx1 #outer banks #drew starkey #cleoluvrr fics #rafe outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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insxghtt · 1 year

Text

hot knife — ellie williams x reader

if Ellie is butter, then you're a hot knife.

warnings: fluff, lots of cursing (it's ellie), lesbians being really really gayyyy, ellie and reader are 18

based on a request. y'all needed it, i needed it, we all need this.

You were angry. Well, not angry like when someone tells you something you don’t really want to hear, or when someone messes with someone you deeply care about, or even when someone is trying to tell you what to do. No, this was a different type of angry. Something you have never felt before.

It was like when you have a dog and this dog that you love so much only cares about someone else. Shit, you’re the one feeding it, you’re the one who covers that ungrateful dog with a blanket when it’s snowing outside, you’re the one who loves and would do anything to protect that dog when someone tries to hurt it, or kidnap it, or some shit like that.

Of course, Ellie was not a dog. It’s not like you were comparing her to one, no. That would be just superficial and kind of mean, honestly. You cared about Ellie more than you would care about a dog. Also, Ellie was so much better than that. She was perfect. Every detail of her was just beautiful to you. You weren’t angry at her. You were angry at yourself for feeling like you were invisible every time she looked at her.

Dina.

Why did Ellie had to pay attention to every word she said? Why did she seem so happy when Dina talked to her? Most importantly, why did you care so much? It’s not like Ellie was your girlfriend. She was your best friend. Wasn’t it enough?

Apparently, no, considering how shitty you felt when you saw Dina and Ellie laughing in the park while playing with snowballs. That morning, you were supposed to meet with her. You two made plans to have lunch together. Well, you didn’t plan that, but it became kind of a routine, so you though she would be waiting for you in front of your house like she always did.

Ellie didn’t like to take care of herself. She was used to skip some meals and you were quick to notice it. Of course you would notice it, you were always looking at her. Since the day she arrived at Jackson for the first time.

She was only fourteen then, but fourteen years were enough to make her tougher than the other kids. Tougher than you. You were more innocent than her then and that made it difficult for you two to connect. Yet somehow, you were able to sneak into her life. ‘If you are butter, I can be the hot knife’, you told her one time. That was the first time she laughed in front of you. Since that moment, you made it your goal to put a smile on her face at least once every single day. She deserved it.

It hurt like hell when you realized you were not the only one doing it anymore. Dina was pretty, smart, confident. They made a good match if you look at it from any other point of view that it’s not yours.

“You’re staring”, a voice next to you brough you back to earth. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Jesse.

“You too.”

“Do you think they’re like...”, he made a pause, obviously uncomfortable with the use of the word. “Lesbians... or something?”

You raised your eyebrows and looked at him. “Is there a problem if they were?”

“Well, I... No, it’s just that I...”, he stuttered.

“You are unbelievable”, you sighed.

“Hey!”, Ellie yelled when she saw you. “You!”

She ran to you with a big smile in her face. For a second, you even forgot about that awful feeling.

“I knocked at your door, but I guess you weren’t there anymore”, she stopped in front of you. Her cheeks were pink because of the cold. “Me and Dina went to sleep late yesterday, so I woke up late, and... you know.”

Yes, of course, last night. When Dina and Ellie talked for hours and hours at the stable and you just decided to leave because it was just too much for you to handle.

It was kind of funny how Jesse gulped when he heard Ellie saying that she and Dina were alone for hours. It obvious how much he liked Dina, but she didn’t seem to realize.

“What were you two doing last night?”, Jesse asked.

“They were doing drugs and making out, Jesse, that’s what they were doing.”, you said sarcastically.

“Really?”

“Oh my God...”, you rolled your eyes.

“We were talking”, Dina explained to him while she was getting closer.

He laughed nervously and nodded.

“I’m sorry I made you wait”, Ellie said to you.

“It’s fine.”

You just shrugged and turned away, now heading to the bar where you usually had your lunch. Ellie looked at Dina without really knowing what to do. You didn’t sound fine. Dina gestured for her to follow you and that was what she did.

You entered the bar with her. It was weird how distant you were, but she tried her best to stay positive. You saw Seth from far away and gave him a signal. He already knew you and Ellie pretty well. He didn’t exactly like you, but he liked Maria, Maria liked you and you liked Ellie. That meant free lunch every day.

When you sat at one of the tables to wait for the food, she sat in front of you.

“Listen, I found this movie in one of the patrols and I...”

“That’s nice”, you interrupted her, staring at your hands.

“Okay...”, she nodded. You were not interested in the movie. Alright. “So, I was thinking we could...”

“Did you and Dina have fun last night?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Seth called your name before she could say anything. You stood up and walked to the man behind the counter.

“Thank you, Seth”, you said before taking the two sandwiches.

The man responded with a mumble. You didn’t look at Ellie when you gave her one of the sandwiches, but she still followed you when you walked out of the bar.

“Can you slow down a bit?”, Ellie asked.

It didn’t really make a difference. It took her a few seconds to realize where you were going. Your home. Something was off. You two usually had lunch in the park. When it was too cold, you went to her place because it was closer.

When you finally arrived at your house, you didn’t ask her to come in. No, you entered the door and closed it behind you. Okay, that was just too much.

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, so now you care!”, you yelled too from inside the house.

“What?”, she tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Did you just lock me outside your house?”

There was silence for a few seconds. “No...”

“The door seems pretty fucking locked to me!”

You were being childish, and you knew it. With a sigh, you left the sandwich on the corner table and opened the door. Ellie stared at you, but she didn’t seem angry. No, she seemed... hurt?

“Are you mad at me because I woke up late?”

“Oh, fuck you! It’s not about that!”

“Alright, then what is it?”, she crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.

You had no other option but to just deny it.

“It’s nothing.”

“Really? You think I'm gonna buy that?”

“I don’t need you to, it’s the truth”, you shrugged.

“So, you just ignored me and locked me out of your house for nothing?”

“Maybe I didn’t see you.”

“You did see me.”

“Maybe it was the wind.”

“The wind can lock doors now?”

You really had no arguments, huh?

“Maybe.”

“Stop...”, she whispered. “Come on, let me in? It’s cold.”

You sighed and gave her space to enter you house. When you closed the door, the silence filled the room. Ellie took the backpack off her back and looked for something in one of the pockets. You watched in silence as she took a VHS film and showed it to you.

“This is what I was telling you about...”

“Who the fuck is Donnie Darko?”, you read the name.

“I was hoping to find out.”

Why did she had to look at you like that?

“Well, I think Dina will love it.”

“Dina? Why would I...”, she seemed confused for a moment, but then it hit her. “Wait, are you jealous of me and Dina?”

Jealous. Was that the word?

“Fuck, no!”

“Oh, my fucking God, you’re jealous!”

“No, I'm not!”, you could feel your cheeks burning right now. “Why would I be jealous of you two?”

“I don’t know, maybe you have a thing for her...”

“I do not have a thing for her.”

“You have a thing for someone then?”

Her confusion was making you dizzy. You sighed and sat on the couch of the living room.

“Okay...”, she was still trying to absorb that information. She felt weird trying to picture you with someone else. “Who is it then?”

“Shut up, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I think we are already talking about it, so...”, she looked at you. “It’s okay. You can tell me, you know?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t lie to you, Ellie.”

“But you don’t have to lie... right?”, she said, and you finally looked at her with tears in your eyes. “Oh...”

You didn’t have to say anything, it was too obvious. You were in love with her. The tears started to roll down your cheeks, and you didn’t try to stop them. It was done, you couldn’t go back in time.

“I’m sorry.”

Ellie was staring at the floor. Her silence was terrifying to you. What if she never talks to you again? All your worries were soon replaced by confusion when she let out a laugh.

“You know what’s funny?”, she smiled and looked at you. “I spent a week with this movie in my backpack, scared that if I invited you to watch it with me you would realize I was asking you on a date.”

She left the VHS tape in the center table.

“And I really spent hours yesterday talking to Dina, describing to her everything I feel when you’re around, asking her if it would be too bad if I really did ask you on a date.”

The way you looked at her made her heart melt. It was almost as if you were begging for that to be true.

“So, is that what this is?”, you pointed to the VHS tape.

“I mean, if you’d like that, then I guess it is”, she looked down, trying to hide the tears in her eyes.

You nodded and stood up.

“I do like that.”

She stepped your way, your faces closer than ever. “Okay, then it’s a date.”

You gave her a shy smile and paid attention to every single detail of her. Eyes, nose, lips.

“It’s a date”, you whispered before leaving a soft kiss on her lips.

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whumpsday · 1 month

Text

Catharsis #1: Talking

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker

new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!

After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.

Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–

Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.

New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…

He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.

The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.

Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.

He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.

The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.

Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.

The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”

Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”

He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.

“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”

“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.

“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.

Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.

Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.

It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?

He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.

The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”

“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.

Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”

“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”

This wasn’t working.

Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.

“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.

Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.

He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”

“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.

Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”

“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.

Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.

The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.

The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.

But this wasn’t Cyrus.

“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.

Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”

“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”

At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.

“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.

Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.

He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.

“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”

The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.

Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.

The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”

“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.

“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”

“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”

“Like the number?”

“The number,” he confirmed proudly.

Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?

This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”

“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”

“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.

“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.

“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.

1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”

“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.

“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.

Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”

if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!

catharsis taglist:

@sowhumpshaped

@cupcakes-and-pain

@taterswhump

@softvampirewhump

@whumpspicelatte

@ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumpwillow

@not-a-space-alien

@a-crumb-of-whump

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

#catharsis #whump #my writing #robot whumpee #robot whump #whumpee turned whumper #whumper turned caretaker #defiant whumpee #reluctant caretaker

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

Text

Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isn’t for him.

It’s nice and all, he reckons, for Impulse’s family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even before—everything—Joel’s family hadn’t really been the “big meal around a big table” type, so he’s getting some new experiences here too. And it’s nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.

But like. It’s not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. “Magic brain ghosts” and “evil butterflies” and “Joel still isn’t certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasn’t” puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joel’s whole family is dead, so he gets the sense he’s sort of harshing the vibes, you know?

Still. It’s a nice gesture. He guesses. It’s free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulse’s family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joel’s leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feel…

He’d have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, that’s stupid, because it’s not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. He’s not… friendly.

But.

They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. They’re quiet.

“Thanks, man. That meant a lot to them,” Skizz says.

“Yeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,” Joel says.

Skizz laughs. “It was nice having you there, too. Man, they’re even worse with you! It’s like not knowing you means they’re even more awkward about family tragedy.”

“Trust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,” Joel says.

“Didn’t he ditch you, dude?”

“Haha, yeah, he did,” Joel says.

They stare up at the streetlamps together.

“I was really ready to go for a bit there,” Skizz says. Joel’s hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. “It was like—man, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, it’s like I remembered… I’d miss dinners, dude.”

“I have no idea why, that kinda sucked,” Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because he’s a moron who can’t handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.

Skizz breaks out laughing.

“You’re great, man! I’m glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I won’t go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?”

“Yeah man. See you,” Joel says—

I am thou.

Thou art I.

Thou hath formed a new bond.

With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.

RANK 1!

“What the hell?” Joel says, tripping over his feet. “What? What? Where did—what the fuck that wasn’t Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my head—”

“Dude, are you okay?”

Skizz’s almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.

“Tell me you heard that,” Joel says desperately.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could take you back to the hospital—no?”

“I am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?” Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.

“We can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,” Skizz says.

“I don’t wanna,” Joel says.

“Tough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!”

Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. “Can you cover your ears for a moment?” he says.

“Yeah, sure thing, why—”

Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.

“…Joel,” Skizz says.

“Yeah thanks man don’t worry about it let’s never speak of this again I’m sure it’s nothing. I definitely didn’t have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.

#smallishsona au #joel smallishbeans #skizzleman #a bee fic #WELCOME CHARIOT ARCANA #figured I’d come poke this some more. still getting through the ‘opening tutorial’ part of the game.#this is where you’re railroaded through your first social link so you can learn how that mechanic works lol #I AM bending the rules by having it be skizz instead of the fool thanks for asking #I just think he deserves it.#also skizz being the first male friend also breaks the magician rule #but like. HE DESERVES IT.#and scar isn’t far off I can do what I want.

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neonovember · 11 months

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Hello, uhm, so this MAY be an uncomfortable thing to request I’m not too sure. It’s totally totally okay if it is absolutely feel free to ignore this, but the way you write Carmen is so so comforting. I have this neighbor that lives downstairs from me, I’ve lived in my apartment for two years but the past 4 months with this guy has been hell. I live in the U.K. and the people that own the building and the police don’t view my situation as anything dangerous or serious, despite the fact I have made numerous complaints and even the other neighbors in my building have complained about him. But he targets me the most and bangs on my door at ungodly hours and threatens the most horrible stuff because I’m a woman living alone. I’m honestly terrified but unless he physically does something there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the sob story but usually I always try and just picture Carmy as something comforting to help through this until I can be safe, would it be okay to request something like Carmen finding out about his gf losing sleep and constantly being terrified and deciding to take matters into his own hands, and demanding she moves in with him and helps pack her stuff because he will NOT stand for that shit (again totally 100% okay if you don’t feel comfortable responding)

oh my god anon, I'm so deeply sorry that you have to deal with such a shitty situation, and the fact that you have to wait to be physically attacked before the police can do anything? Fuck the justice system and fuck law enforcement. Don't every feel scared to send a request to make your day or week or fucking month better, it's why I'm here, and the fact that my writing can make you feel even a little better is the greatest gift i could ever ask for. God I just hope you're able to remain safe, call a friend or family to keep them posted in case anything happens, I'm so very sorry honey :(

Broken bones and soup

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: misogyny, violence, feral!carmen makes an appearence, angst, horrible neighbours, angst, teeth rotting fluff, carmy feeding you

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: this was hard to write, i really wanted to do it right by you anon, and when have i ever written carmen without him breaking someones face?

The falling sun encapsulated the cerulean sky, exploding against the horizon in heated shades of orange, crimson and pink. The trail back to your apartment complex wasn’t long, but it gave enough time to bask in the warmth of evenings bathed in sunlight. It also conveniently enabled you to tell yourself you had gotten your sun for the day, rather than having to swallow pills you hated to swallow.

It was muscle memory however, your legs moved with the familiar comfort of the sidewalk, forgetting the stomach turning realisation of what had awaited you back at your apartment.

It had been a couple months, four maybe 5, you didn’t really want to count the days having a violent neighbour moved in directly down your apartment. The other tenants who you've grown to know collectively bristled with the annoyance of a 30 something year old filling the usual peaceful nights with crashes and yells of broken plates and incoherent obscenities.

When you had raised the issue to the landlord and even to the police, you had been shut down with a shrug of the shoulders.

‘We can notice him with a noise complaint, but if he aint hurting anyone we can’t do much’.

That had made you laugh a little then, before you had been close to bawling your eyes out and ripping out your hair. Sure he was loud, your neighbours from the other side of the apartment complex could attest to that, but it was so much more than loud fucking music, and somehow, you had bared the brunt of his violence. It was targeted, you knew it, and your legs began to shuffle at the thought of coming home to another violent outbursts at your door.

You hadn't gotten any proper sleep for the past 4 months, waking up to loud banging at your door, and declarations of brutality he whispered through your keyhole. It was all empty threats, those men in clad uniform had told you when you woke up shaking with fear as he screamed taunts of murder from below, you had run out in your pyjamas and bunny slippers and they had told you they couldn't help you.

There were not empty threats, and this wasn’t the hundreds of true crime shows you had binged, you felt it in your bones, you were a woman living with yourself for god sake, he was going to break down your door one day and hurt you, and you couldn't do anything about it. You felt paralysed by the helplessness of it, forcing yourself to stay up past 12, the burn of your tired eyes forced open by the blue light of your phone, in case he tried breaking in. You had begun to keep a bat near your bed, a knife in the drawer of your bedside, and you felt fucking insane. Noone had made a major problem out of it, and yet you felt like he was one bad day from a murderous rampage.

Carmen could tell something had been wearing on your shoulders, the way your eyes blinked slowly, and the syrup slow movements of your limbs when you had visited the Beef not long ago. You couldn't bear to tell him, your past relationships had taught you enough not to unload all your problems onto another person, but it had gotten bad. You had started getting notices of concern from your boss, asking if you were alright, telling you how your performance had been declining.

You had quickly shut down any looks of concern thrown at you, this was something you had to deal with yourself, you didn’t want anyone, especially another woman to be faced with the brunt of his violence. You guzzled caffeine and energy drinks like it was water, and your limbs jittered with the rush of adrenaline until the peak had dropped and you felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

You braced yourself as you turned the corner into your apartment complex, keeping your head down, and going through the carpack to avoid the hallway that was right next to his door. You felt your stomach drop, your keys pressed between your knuckles and you flickered your eyes up to the door of his apartment. You watched it like a hawk, ready to flee at any sign of opening, and when you had finally made it to the elevator, you breathed a sigh of relief like no other. The air suddenly fills your lungs once again.

Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket, and you reached out to grab it, the screen illuminated by Carmen’s text. You felt a tingle of glee shoot through you, biting back a smile at the thought of seeing him today.

“You still coming today for the family dinner?”

The beef had begun a sort of tradition, every last Friday of the month, they would close early and hold a sort of family dinner right out back near the tables and chairs. Everyone of the crew’s family and friends were invited to join, some bringing a plate or a drink or two. It was the highlight of the month, and you hadn't missed a Friday ever since Carmen and you had become something more than close friends.

You typed out a quick reply with a tongue in your cheek, as the elevator doors opened, you didn't look up right away, walking with your head down as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. It was a fault on your end, you should have looked up, at least then you could have braced yourself as your neighbour stood stationed near your door with a cheshire smile stretching ominously across his face.

You wondered if you could run back into the elevator, but the doors had closed well before and you feared turning your back to him was an even worse fate. You walked towards him, plastering on a smile that didn't look even a little believable.

“Something I can do for you?” You ask, your voice heightened by a mix of fear and false confidence

“Hear you've been complaining about me” The man replies with a smile, his hair slicked back, the shadow of a badly shaven skin spiking up. His shirt reeks of sweat and stains of spilt takeaway and you have to take a tentative step back to escape the stench radiating off of him.

“Yeah, you might not realise it, but you have been a bit- uh loud, and the loud banging on my walls?” You prouch him, and his eyebrows rise in surprise, shaking his head with a laugh that horrified you.

“Am I scaring you?” The man replies

You swallow as your eyes flicker to his burnt hazel ones, they stare down from above, almost mocking in the way they forced you to answer.

“Uh, uhm- well, a lot of us got work in the morning, and I can’t wake up if you're making a lot of noise during the night”

“Oh, is that right?” The man asks, scratching a hand across his jaw

“Well no one's been the one complaining but you” The man replies

“I don't think so many of us-”

“You saying I’m a liar??” The man suddenly shouts, and you can help yourself stepping back a distance quickly

The man watches the way you distance yourself away from him, his eyes flicker to the keys poking out from between your fingers and he bites back a laugh.

“So you are scared of me, liar.” The man spits out with venom, before stepping towards you, caging you to the wall as he whispers near your ear

“You think fucking keys are going to stop me? A little lady like you living here all by yourself?” The man digs his fingers into your sides, until you howl out and retch yourself away from him, you reach for your right side, holding the skin above your rib cage that had begun to swell and bruise.

“See how easy that was? A fucking pretzel in my hand” The man calls out with a smile, before walking back around the hallway corner with such ease and comfort that told you he knew the police wouldnt do shit.

Your hand shakes as you shove your key into your door, you have to hold your own hand to put it in, before shouldering your way through your door with wince, and dropping your bag and belongings to the floor.

You rush into your bathroom, undressing before your eyes flicker to your mirror, seeing the red rash of irritation and the start of a purple imprint of his claws shoved into the skin below your ribcage. You wince as you try to soothe it, the salty tears breaking down your waterline, you can't stop, the wretched sobs of your helplessness echoing off the bathroom walls.

You climb into the shower, sliding down to the bottom as the tears shake through you, you hug your knees to your chest, letting the warm water combine with your salty tears, so they become one, and you know longer now how terrified you are. You stay in the shower like this for a bit, letting the warmth and steam wiggle your body from its stone encapsulation.

You can hear the familiar jingle of your phone ringing from where you had haphazardly left it, and the memory of today's dinner comes rushing in. You had nearly forgotten, and whilst you were terrified to leave your home and go back into the hallway where it had happened, you couldn't let Carmen down.

So you had gotten up, in the same way you had fallen down, and tried to scrub away the smell of his day-old cigarettes and sweat until your skin burned, poking your head through a clean shirt and a skirt that hid the painful purple splotch that had begun to spread across your side.

Entering your quaint kitchen, you can’t stop your arm as it reaches for the brown liquid stored in that old glass bottle Sugar had told you was a century old. You didn't have a little liquid courage to make it past your goddamn threshold.

You downed it in a gulp, reaching for your bag and a pocket knife, just in case. The reality of that decision broke you a little, when did you start needing to armour yourself?

Your phone buzzed from its position edged between the living room couch, it was Carmen, again, telling you he was outside. Carmen had begun to ceremoniously show up to your apartment as the autumn had begun to bleed into the winter nights, and the sunlight had stretched until darkness hit by 5 in the afternoon. Any other time you would have chastised him till the point where he would stop, but now, with the reality of your neighbour, you felt a relief wash through your body at the thought of being close to him. You also don’t doubt he would have shown up anyway, ignoring your requests in the way he does when he thinks it's his responsibility.

You wouldnt say you had a lot of experience in relationships under your belt, but something spoke to you from within, carmen was something special, this was special, sacred in the way destiny was, and you shooke with the relentless fear of fucking it up. And scaring him away with your problems seemed to be on the very top of that list

You shake the thought from your head as you shut the door quietly, take a brisk pace as you walk but kind of run to the elevator. A neighbour you knew well stood near the doors, his dark auburn hair falling in front of his eyes, he nodded to you with a silent smile. He kept to himself most of the time, and you didn't know much about him, just that he always was tugging a sleeve down his left arm, but he always went out of his way to give you some sort of greeting.

The air between you was silent, as you were waiting for the ping of the elevator to drop to your door, and you heard a shuffling near you, your eyes watching the way he coughed and stared at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.

“Heard something out in the hallway, it wasn’t him again was it?” The man replied, concerned about lacing his features as his eyes seemed to be fixated on the way you leaned on one side of your body a little.

“Uh no, it’s- it’s alright, I guess it was my dues you know? Dealing with a shitty neighbour at least once” You reply with a tight smile, trying to poke fun at the very depressing thought.

The man nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, your neighbours had known that he was loud, knew that you had dealt the worst of it being right above him, but they were clueless to his taunts and threats that he said into your door at night. You think the man next to you had an idea though, the way his eyes scanned anything like he was always assessing, always calculating the world around him.

It was also because your neighbour was nowhere to be found whenever he was around, you whispered a prayer of thanks that he was taking the elevator down with you, with his sweatpants and top, it was like he knew, a silent nod of protection.

Before you could open your mouth to whisper a thanks, the doors of the elevator had opened, a tired mom and her two energetic kids passed between you both. It was funny, you could see yourself in her, the drag of dark circles and the hunch of her shoulders mirroring your own.

You knew the very shakily painted on makeup did little to hide the exhaustion on your face and you rushed to enter the elevator to escape the thought. The motion of the elevator moving down nauseated you a little, churning your stomach in the way it always did with motion, but your apartment wasn’t big and soon enough the music of the elevator turned to a halt as the doors opened up to the ground floor.

You could see the headlights of Carmen's car through the automatic doors of your complex, and you gave your neighbour a smile before rushing to jump into the comfort of Carmen and his very, very warm car.

-- -

The car ride to the beef has been silent, just the syrupy beat of jazz from the car speakers and the burn of Carmen’s gaze searing a hole through you, you feared if you caught his eyes and the look in them the entire interaction today would tumble from your tongue.

You couldn’t ruin today, it was tradition, you had just begun to become folded into it. The joy of Tina calling your name for a hug, the talks about the new pastry ideas with Marcus, Sydney’s laughter, it soothes you like a balm, and you were sure the nausea crawling through your stomach would dissipate the second you entered.

But it didn’t, the beautiful lantern lights from outside the Beef glittered against the Chicago moonlight and the smell of Italian meatballs engulfed your senses and you still felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside.

You had said your hellos to everyone, biting back a yelp as Tina’s hand pressed against the bruise on your side, and nodding to Richie’s rambles whilst you felt outside of your own skin.

Your mind kept replaying the scene of him lunging st you, bristling your skin till goosebumps spread through, until your mind was exhausted from fear and well, fucking exhaustion and Carmen had to call your name too many times to rip you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Carmen asks with that soft honey tone he keeps for you.

You nod with a smile, and Carmen’s eyes shift towards your plate untouched. It was your favourite, a twist on Osso Buco and yet it laid un moving, Carmen knew it, you did too, and you held back tears as Carmen simply nodded, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries.

It was the first lick of the start of something, the both of you, the bloom of a companionship Carmen felt was destined, like it was seared into the sand years before you both had even come into existence. And Carmen was new to this, and that opened up a whole can of worms, he didn’t want to fuck it up, he didn’t want to think about fucking it up, but god did he always seem to fuck it up.

You reached across the table to grab the jar of water, your shirt riding up without you noticing. Tina’s eyes widen at the peek of a purple imprint from under your shirt and she has nearly drops her fucking fork

“Baby? What happened to your side?” Tina replies with concern, her voice is quiet but the tables loud boisterous conversations begin to slow down.

You tug your shirt down, and you burn with guilt like you had been caught with this big secret. Carmen immediately looks towards your side, his eyes scanning the way you since a little as your finger brushes against it.

“Nothing, uh um I fell” You don't even believe yourself

“That looks more than something you get tripping over your feet darling, did something happen?”

“What? What’s she saying honey? What did you see Tina?” Tina’s gaze flutters to Carmen, and there’s a pause like she’s assessing whether it was Carmen’s doing before the reality of who he is hits her. It was ingrained in every woman, and Carmen wouldn’t be an exception. Even for a second.

“Looks like someone’s goddam fist imprinted into her skin”

The restaurant is completely quiet now, and your head falls to your uneaten plate of veal, they look towards you in concern hearing the end of Tina’s words.

Carmen lifts your shirt, and you don’t stop him, the reality of your attack is shown right there in front of him, the imprint of a large hand bruising purple and blue.

Carmen’s eyes burn into the skin, his fists shaking as he remains silent, the rest of the family look on in horror, whispers of “holy fuck?” and eyes seeing the way Carmen practically vibrates, like he’s a second away from exploding.

“..Who did this?”

“It was my fault- I”

“Who did this baby? Who hurt you?” Carmen replies with an exhaled murmur.

“I’m, uh, Uhm- he- oh Carmen” You can’t get the words out, they’re stuck in your throat and you can’t get them out. You feel trapped, your body is sweating like you’re caged, like you're wading through a current and you're losing yourself to the weight of it, your breakdown on display for the whole world to see.

You blink back tears as Carmen tilts your chin to face him, and the look on his face, the look of distraught and fear that blossoms across his features un tetheres the tightly wrapped self control you had formed.

And Carmen scoops you up into his arms so that the entire family doesn’t have to see you break into his shoulder.

His soothing words are like a balm to your distress and he walks you, bridal style to the first aid cabinet, sitting you down on the counter, wiping away your tears as his fingers shake and his throat bobs with a tight swallow. He hastily tugs your shirt, kissing back the howls of pain as he whispers “I know, I know baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

His soft fingers press gently against the bruise as he rubs a heating ointment across it, he wraps a warm compress around it as bandage and his eyes are avoiding your own as he focuses his fingers on your skin.

“Carmen?” You whisper, the hiccups of tears resounding from your throat, Carmen reaches for a painkiller, placing it in your palm with a whisper of affirmation, he gently tips your head back as he pours water into your mouth, and you swallow it quickly, before looking back at him.

“Carmen? Please” You reply, had you done it, had you ruined everything?

“I can’t look at you because I fear I might break, and- and I can’t right now okay darling? I have to find, I have to find who did this, and I need to make it right, hm? I need to make sure your safe because god my heart is outside of my chest and I can’t feel anything but fear” Carmen replies with a tight low voice, his fists shake as he pressed them into the counter beside your thighs, but he looks up to meet your gaze anyway, and he smiles tightly as the tears stream down.

“Oh Carmen, this isn't on you, you couldn't have possibly known” You reply, wiping a hand across his cheeks.

“How can you say that? I am your, I am meant to protect you, and you, you come limping in without me noticing, fucking Tina saw it before I could, and i hate myself for it” Carmen replies, his cerulean blues shining bright against the shine of tears.

“Who did this, someone at work? A guy on the street?” Carmen replies and you flick away from his gaze, hand falling to your lap as your tongue burns with the desire to just say it all.

“You've got to tell me baby girl, you have to know I've got to make it right, I won’t sleep till I do. '' Carmen replies with a pained cry, like his heart is breaking from the thought of letting this go un avenged. And it's the tortured look on his face, it's the shake of his limbs like he wants to destroy and burn the entire world around him till he finds whoever has done this that uncurls your tongue and lets everything out in the open.

“What? This has been going on for months? Why didn’t you tell me?” Carmen replies, his thumb rubbing soft circles across your thigh.

“Didn’t want to scare you away Carmen, i love-i I like you a lot, more than I have anyone and I didn't want to fuck it up and unload all my problems onto you like a dumpster” You reply, and it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, and when Carmen looks up at you in disbelieved confusion.

“Huh? Oh sweet girl, I’m meant to help you bear it all, that’s why I'm here, and the idea of you thinking I'll love you any less, that I won't help you because of something like this haunts me. I’m meant to protect you yeah? That’s my fucking job, and I’ve failed it” Carmen replies with a grunt.

“No one has said anything like that to me” You say, eyes looking up to him, you weren't shocked, but you weren't, were not shocked, never had you experienced this, this burning adoration for another person, this soft warmth that burst through you at the sound of Carmen's voice promising his devotion, promising his unyielding protection. It armoured you more than a pocket knife ever could.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to your head, before shuffling around the kitchen, walking back into the dining tables, hushing out replies of ‘she's okay’ before coming back in with your things under his arm.

“What are you doing?” You reply in question, as he slowly picks you up with an arm, and gently places you back down. His eyes are constantly flickering to your side, like he’s torturing himself with the image of the first time he saw the horrific bruise across your side.

He had never felt true fear until then, the shatter of his heart beneath his breast as he realises you had gotten hurt and he didn't even fucking realise. Nothing had mattered but your safety and he scared himself with how much his body shook with a desire to destroy the person responsible.

“I’m driving back to your apartment, where you're going to grab your necessities, whilst I pay a visit to your little neighbour downstairs. You’re staying with me, for however long,” Carmen replies with a sneer, walking you through the back door, which you were all too thankful for, you couldn't bear to see the look on the crew’s faces if you had to walk back in.

“Carmen you can’t” You reply rushed, as Carmen slid you into the passenger seat, before clicking on your seat belt for you. He cocks his head, before raising his eyebrows

“Oh, I can’t? Honey, the police don’t do their job and my baby get’s fucking hurt. Nah, that doesn't work for me” Carmen replies, before rushing to enter the driver's seat, shifting the gear into drive before speeding down the city streets.

His focused on the road, his face unblinking and he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, you can’t stop looking at him, his gorgeous under the moonlight of the skies, his cheeks crimson from his tears, his cerulean blues calling to you like the sea, and the curl of his blonde hair falling like waves.

The view of your apartment complex comes into your vision as Carmen turns into the carpark in one swift move, you can’t stop the shake of your fingers and Carmen wants to slam his first into the steering wheel when he notices.

“You alright?” Carmen replies “You can stay here, I’ll grab whatever you need”

You want to stay, want to remain in the safety of his sleek tinted windows, but you want to face it too, and somehow that need is more important, he doesn’t get to win, no fucking way.

You unclip your seat belt, opening the door as you turn to him “You going to show me how you protect me or what?”

Carmen bites back a smile, god he was so fucking proud. He could tell you were scared shit less, and yet you fought through that fear, and god you mesmerised him. You were stronger than he could ever be, and he wanted to take that burden from you, carry it himself so you didn't have to.

Carmen jogs to the back of the car, reaching into the boot before the clunk of wood on gravel meets your ears. Carmen nods towards you, as he grips a bat under his arm

“He puts a bruise on you and i break all his fucking bones” Carmen replies, and you can’t stop the joy that image brings you

Carmen walks you to your apartment, waiting outside like a hawk, his bat tight against his grip as he watches the hallways, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you feel infinitly and utterly safe.

You throw your toiletries into a bag, grabbing a few nights of clothes and your work shoes. You eyes flicker around your apartment, it had been home to you for the past 4 years, and yet it felt so foreign to you now, you had grown to attest this place, this place you had filled with so much of yourself, and you hate him so much at that moment, for making you feel this way about a place you had once loved.

You leave your apartment with the door shut closed.

Carmen carries your bag and places them back into the back seat of the car, and as he begins to walk towards the apartment of your neighbour you reach a hand out to stop him.

“Honey, I’ve got to-” Carmen begins before you shut him quickly

“I want to watch” You reply quietly, and Carmen’s eyes flicker, before lacing his fingers into yours, as you both knock on his door.

There's a grumble before the clank of a chain slides open, and his face appears as the door opens to him, you can see the illuminated light of his TV glaring, the floor covered with pizza boxes and beer cans. You see in real time, how his face morphs from anger into fear, his eyes dropping as he sees the way Carmen practically shakes, and the man isn’t able to let out a word, a protest or wail of a plea before the crack of Carmen's wooden bat swings through the air.

-- -

“Are you sure he isn't dead?” You reply, as you dip a washcloth into warm water, wiping away the blood across Carmen’s neck

“He isn’t going to die if I wasn’t the one causing it, besides, if he does, that’s God finishing off the rest of it”. Carmen replies, raising his face so that you cleaned the last of the streaks of blood splattered across his jaw.

Carmen reaches for your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of them as he looks at you in that way like he yearns for you to be closer.

“You need sleep, but first you need to eat, yeah?” Carmen replies, shushing your protests and he carries you to his room in his arms, after he notices the exhaustion in your limbs. It’s dark, illuminated only by the wall to ceiling windows that look into the busy city streets and light up sky scrapers.

The sheets are strewn across the bed, haphazard like Carmen had rushed to get them off of him in the early mornings. Carmen slides you into them, tucking you within the soft pillowy blanket, sitting on the edge as he caresses your cheek softly.

He leaves for a moment, rushing to make you something to eat, his skin crawling with a need to feel you against him, nearly tripping over himself as he walks back into his room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of water.

Carmen sits next to you again, pressing spoonfuls of soup into your mouth and wiping the edges ceremoniously as you rest against the headboard half asleep.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you, like he's trying to memorise every dip and curve of your face, his fingers clutching the spoon tight like he’s going to break if he doesn't hold you against him.

“Honey?” Carmen replies hushed

“Hmh?” You reply, your eyes heavy as the comfort of Carmen's warmth spreads through you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you tell me everything okay? Everything” Carmen replies pained, like the events that transpired somehow still were not resolved, like breaking the man's legs wasn't enough for him.

“Okay” You reply, and Carmen places the dishes onto the bedside table, leaving it to the morning because he can't keep you away from him any longer.

Carmen joins you in the bed, the left side of his bed finally taken by somebody for the first time in a long time. Tugging you against him, Carmen curls your body to lay against his chest, his fingers softly gracing your back, soft circles that had begun to lull you to a sleep you hadn’t felt in months, years even.

The beat of Carmen's heart joins with yours, together and entwined like how it was always meant to be, why had Carmen waited so long? Why had he let time pass without you tucked under him, safe within his arms and away from all the horrors of the world.

It’s only when Carmen notices the shift in your breathing, falling into a soft exhale before he even lets the whispers of sleep grip him within its grasps, his shoulders finally release from its tensed state once he knows you've finally fallen into a sleep that had been kept from you.

“You don’t know how much I love you baby girl, it fucking scares me, but I’ll keep reminding you until infinity if I have to, until you know it deep down like I do” Carmen mumbles out, his eyes falling heavy and you grips you against his chest.

You don’t really know how, but even between the state of sleep and consciousness, you hear him, and you whisper between the space in your bodies, that you already do.

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igotanidea · 2 months

Text

Spoiled: Dick Grayson x reader

Summary: Women's day with Dick.

Warning: a little innuendo at the end, but no worries, minors allowed ;)

***

After knowing each other for a few years they became a couple in June, hence 8th March of a current year was their first International Women’s Day together.

Well- to say the whole truth – it was her first IWD with him, but the point stood.

And Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-way when it came to his girlfriend(s).

Since he might have fucked up Valentines’ day (in his defense he wasn’t entirely sure of how she felt about it since there was never even a hint on her part that she wanted to celebrate it and their relationship was still kind of fresh) it was obvious he had to make up for it, by giving her the best 8th March celebration ever.

“Morning sweetheart.”

At this point she should have been used to him visiting her apartment in the most abnormal morning hours, coming back from his Nightwinging-shit. Regardless, being torn from the sleep by his blue and black silhouette and domino mask, sometimes with the widest, charming, boyish grin and some other with blood and injuries all over was something she couldn’t move past.

“mmhmh….” She muttered rolling on her side in the bed to check the hour. 5 am. 5 am at fucking Friday. “are you hurt….?” Poor girl couldn’t even find any strength to bash him.

“no, not exactly—”

“then I’m sure it can wait for two or three hours? Come on, Grayson. I start my shift at 9 today, let me have some more rest….”

“But—” Dick frowned taking off his mask and studying her silhouette curled under the cover, one leg still in the dreamland. Did she really forget what day was it today?

“Mh. Just shut up and come here….” She mumbled again lifting the hem of the blanket, silently inviting him in and it actually did lift his spirits.

As quick as possible he stripped of his suit and slid into the bed next to her, immediately wrapping arms around her waist pulling her close. Unsure whether it was him looking for comfort and assurance he would always have someone to come home to, or rather him giving her love and warmth and safety – a must have for a woman.

“Y/n….” he whispered in her ear, running fingers up and down her back soothingly, creating the atmosphere of intimacy and love.

“The hell you want?” she snuggled closer

“Best wishes…”

“What…?” she raised her head, searching his eyes, all the sleepiness leaving her at once “you sure you’re not injured? Like – your head for example? My b-day are in September, our anniversary is in June, I didn’t win a lottery, there’s no occasion today so what are you talking about?”

“Y/N! baby!” Dick laughed pecking the top of her nose playfully “come on, think for a moment!”

“It’s 5 a.m. are you seriously asking me to freaking think?”

“What kind of special day do we have in March?”

“World Self-harm Awareness Day?”

“What?” he laughed whole-heartedly “that’s really the first thing that came to your pretty little head?”

“Jerk.”

“Come on baby… Flowers, chocolates, fancy dates…”

“Are you trying to remind me you fucked up Valentines’ Day?”

“It was not me! It was Nightwing’s fault.”

“Oh yeah, right. Blame your alter ego and you’re on a highway to split personality. Seriously what-“ she lift herself, a bit annoyed at his games now and her eyes landed on the calendar on the wall, noticing the date marked in a red circle and an exclamation mark. “Oh….”

“You there now?” Dick smirked

“I hate you Grayson-“ she muttered leaning forward to kiss him softly

“Just wait till you see what I planned for the day.”

***

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Wait? Did I already say that? Too bad.

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Such a shame that the festive day was taking place on Friday, cause otherwise he would lock her inside the apartment keeping her all to himself and spoiling her on the entire day.

But it was obvious from the get go that she was not going to skip a work day and there was no way to stop her (power girl simply liking her work, it was not a crime).

On the bright side – it was the perfect opportunity to extend the celebration on a whole weekend.

Starting from having the perfect evening.

Y/N could only do as little as step inside the apartment, after work, exhausted after all week with her brain becoming a jello, legs giving up, when she was snatched by a pair of strong arms and held close to a broad warm chest. And the contented sigh that escaped her lips was definitely not a sign of complaint.

"Missed you my beautiful woman."

"I can tell." she chuckled in response, glad to be back home to him.

"Now come on, pick up your prettiest dress and we're going out.'

"We're what?" that was unexpected "and what do you mean prettiest dress? I don’t have any dresses-"

"Good thing your boyfriend thought of that too-" Dick grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom where the most elegant and a bit revealing (but still chic) piece of clothing was spread on the bed.

"Grayson...." no matter how much she tried to deny her own instincts there was no way to stop herself from running fingers over the soft silky fabric and delighting in its sensation on her skin. She could only imagine how it would feel having that masterpiece hugging her body.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" she turned to face him, her eyes showing all the adoration of the gift. "But - I can't accept it. I mean - I'm sure it was--"

"Don't you dare saying it."

"But-"

"I bought it for you, you hear me? Because you deserve it, because I love you, because you're my woman and I’m your man." he grabbed her by the waist spinning her around and pulling to him. The fact that he was towering over her, holding her so firmly and giving her that man-like look silenced all her words of opposition. “Accept it, okay? Accept the fact that there’s me in your life now.”

“Right. The great, famous, handsome Dick Grayson the Wayne prodigy”

“Did you say handsome?” he smirked causing her to roll her eyes “seriously Y/N, I’m in your life. To stay. So the sooner you get used to unexpected gifts and surprises and being treated like a woman the better.”

“You still fucked up Valentine’s day.”

“You’ll be reminding me of that till the rest of my life, won’t you?”

“Of course.” She ginned playfully leaning to kiss him “I’m a woman. We collect such thing to use them as a potential argument in a quarrel.” She winked and this time it was him who rolled his eyes at her antics before silencing her with a proper make out session.

***

Clearly the dress was not enough for him.

Clearly taking a private Wayne jet and flying to NY was not enough for him.

He had to make a reservation at the most exquisite restaurant in the country. With the table in the secluded part of the spot, on the balcony with the perfect view on the night skyline, illuminated by the millions of little bright flickering lights.

And despite all that wonders all over them his eyes were focused solely on her.

From the way she looked in that dress (smoking hot, cause he knew what he was choosing after all), through the way her eyes were shining, hair flowing and cheeks flushing all the way to the fact that she finally allowed herself to relax and not overthinking all the stuff about expenses or being demanding.

Dream come true.

Living a fantasy when he grabbed her hand over the table and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles looking deep into her eyes.

Getting lost in their own private paradise when after the dinner they were just standing next to the railing, enjoying the peace and calmness, his arms around her waist, her back to his chest, not caring about problems, stuff to do or other people.

It was not often they could indulge and Dick was not going to miss the opportunity of being free for one night, able to plant little soft kisses on her neck, whispering soft words of love and feeling her body so close to him, while the a sign on the hotel room door clearly announced that guests requested privacy.

The silkiness of the sheets paled in comparison to the softness and delicacy of her skin and lips.

And the silence that was punctuated by her soft sighs and breathy words couldn't have been more perfect.

His woman.

Her man.

World could wait.

After all what could it do in a clash with a blooming love?

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

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writeyouin · 3 months

Text

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

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ruskaroma · 9 months

Note

First time with John Wick plssssssssssssssssssss

I truly think that the first time with John would be loving yet rough. I’m sorry, but that’s just how I paint him out to be.

He’s a killer, so it’s no surprise that his hands are naturally heavy and rough. He would touch your body with those large, dangerous hands, forever tainting it with his cruelty and brutality, making you submit yourself to his mercy.

For a man with few words, John sure does have his ways to make you shake and crumble under his touch while he says the most filthy, diabolical shit that could make even the devil blush. For some reason, he just finds you so beautiful wrecked and fucked that he can’t keep his words to himself.

The first time the two of you had sex, it was because he was jealous. You knew he was jealous but he didn’t admit that he was, and that was enough answer for you to get fucked as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment.

It was a miracle that you managed to make him come with you to a company party even though all he did all night was stand beside you like he’s your bodyguard. Well, in a sense, he was your bodyguard, but his particular outfit that night got your co-workers wondering how the hell you were able to afford one.

John had kept his hand on the small of your back the majority of the night, like that was enough to show everybody that he was not only your bodyguard but also your very loving boyfriend who tolerated everyone in that room just for you.

But when he left to go to the bathroom and came back to a sight of another man being too friendly to you, John only realized that the whole “hand on the back” wasn’t enough to shoo those motherfuckers away.

John settled himself beside you again, but this time, he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his warmth, pretending like the other man beside you wasn’t there, because John could really not bother to care.

“Have I left you for too long?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

John didn’t answer after that, but he did glance at the man who was already staring at him and his actions the moment he arrived. He also didn’t introduce himself, the man simply didn’t deserve it.

“Uh, is he your boyfriend?” The man interjected, and you felt John’s fingers twitch gripping your waist.

“Oh–uh, yeah, he is,” you replied sheepishly, then turning your head to smile tightly at John who was just raising a brow at you. “You probably thought he was my bodyguard, eh? Everyone’s been saying that the moment we arrived.”

“Yeah, I thought that, too,” he laughed awkwardly.

The conversation soon died out. Maybe it had something to do with the man just feeling really awkward because he truly didn’t know John was your boyfriend, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that John had been staring at him dead in the eyes threateningly while you weren’t looking.

When the two of you were on your way home, John had been dead silent with his hand on your thigh the only thing indicating that he’s not as mad as he made himself out to be and he was just really jealous. You know a jealous man when you see one, you just didn’t think you’d see John being jealous first hand.

“Come on, babe, you really not going to speak?” You whined from your seat, grabbing his rough hand to your softer ones as you placed a kiss on the back of it. When you didn’t get a reaction, you pouted childishly. “Jooohhnnnn. Babeeeeee. Babyyyyy.”

John still didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re for real ignoring me because you’re jealous? Really, John? Bit childish, isn’t it?”

Then, his eyes narrowed as he ripped his focus on the road and onto yours. “I’m not jealous.”

“So that gets you talking?”

“Because I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, sure.” You nodded your head like you’re convinced, and you saw John turned his attention back on the road again. You took this opportunity to continue poking at him. “I mean, it was kinda your fault that he assumed I was single.”

John hit the brakes too hard than usual at the red light, and that was enough to prove your theory that he was, in fact, jealous.

He looked at you offended, and it was kinda hard to believe that you were getting to see that expression on his face first hand considering he rarely ever shows any emotions.

“You know I’m not very big on PDA,” he grumbled under his breath. “I thought my hand on your back was enough. Clearly he didn’t get the memo.”

“So you are jealous?”

Again, he didn’t respond. For a very dangerous well known assassin, John was sure as hell a bit childish when it came to you, but you liked that about him. That only meant he trusted you enough to feel vulnerable around you, show you a side of him he never showed to any one else.

John parked his car in the parking lot and the two of you walked in comfortable silence. You had your arm tangled with his, walking side by side until you reached the elevator. It was only then you had felt the touch of his hand on your ass.

“Well, well, well… Is John Wick finally making the first move?”

Maybe teasing him was a bad idea, because your smirk was immediately wiped off when you’re thrown against the wall and creating a loud bang.

“John, holy shit, I don’t wanna pay for the damage–”

“Shut up,” he growled under his breath, ducking his face down and inhaling your scent, opening his mouth to suck the skin, his sharp teeth bruising your neck that you yelped and wrapped your arms around his broad back.

“J–John, please don’t fuck me here–I wanna get fu–fucked on a real bed for our first time–”

Before he could even answer, the elevator’s door opened and he hauled himself off you in a matter of seconds. An old woman walked in, not bothering to look at the two of you as she pressed on the button to go up. You’re one floor above, you and John were just sharing side glances the entire ride.

When you reached your floor, John was the one to grip your wrist and pull you out of the elevator, already getting your keys in his suit pocket while you trip and giggle following behind him.

“I’m so excited–”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Are you kidding? I’m about to get fucked by my boyfriend for the first time in our relationship, of course I’m excited.”

Once John opened the door, he pushed you inside in no time and slammed it behind him. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

“What?” You pouted, growing confused.

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you don’t deserve my cock?”

And instantly, you flushed at the words that came out of his mouth that you couldn’t reply anything other than a gasp when he launched himself forward and pressed his lips to you. His beard tickled your chin as his hands went behind your thighs, lifting you off the floor and wrapped your legs around his body.

“I was holding myself back for so long, I was doing so well, I was waiting for the moment to fuck you in a bed of roses like you deserve, but that guy just had to come in and ruin all my self control,” John said against your mouth, pressing his hard cock in his pants against your already wet cunt as he slammed you against the wall.

“I d–don’t want a bed of roses anyways,” you breathed, moaning at the feeling of his hot, throbbing crotch against your own, wanting nothing but to just pull it out and shove it inside you and ride him all night long, but it seemed like John had another idea of how the night would go. “Please, John, just–just fuck me, come on, I know you want to–”

“I don’t like how that guy was looking at you earlier. Like you were some piece of meat,” he nipped at your neck, you felt another wave of wetness drip out of you just from his voice. “Just want to mark you up, bruise your neck and body just so everyone would know you’re fucking mine–”

“Oh god–”

And that’s how you found yourself with legs spread on the bed with John between them. His right hand was around your throat, his other was gripping your hair hard, and his cock was pounding in and out of you like there was no tomorrow.

He’s so fucking big – so huge, so large, Jesus Christ – and you swore you were squealing like a pig. Your cunt was so sloppy and wet, the sound of your wetness squelching around John’s cock was making you so dizzy and lightheaded, not to mention when he was tightening the hand around your throat every few seconds, you were keening and moaning like a whore as you rambled all your dirty thoughts.

“Oh god–oh god, John, please–please, you feel s–so good–” you moaned, nails digging at his back as the bedpost slammed against the wall with each thrust. “Wanted–wanted this for s–so long. So big and huge and–fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” John commented, letting his eyes wander between your bodies as he watched his thick cock plummeling inside your tight little cunt, clit puffy and sore from him sloppily eating you out earlier and he couldn’t be any more proud. You were so sensitive and reactive, every touch delivered a noise out of you. “Cum on my cock, princess. Make a mess all over my dick and I’ll fill you up so deep you’ll feel me until the next week.”

That was the line that threw you over the edge. Head thrown back and screaming, you held onto his back as you came around his cock, knowing the night was only just beginning.

#john wick #jw #concept #ask #john wick x reader #drabble #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #keanu reeves #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick smut #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves smut #my works

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ichorai · 3 months

Text

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part six.

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

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

words ; 13.8k

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

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, major character death, heavy angsty shit, sexual jokes and general foul language, business talk, roman is so in love, connor gets a bit of spotlight for this chapter </3

a/n ; sorry i'm taking so so so long w this series! uni keeps getting in the way of my writing HAHA but i hope you guys enjoy :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Bidding wars had never really been fun for you. It was always emails upon emails, calls after calls, Logan yelling, Gerri scrambling, negotiations, bargains, deals—it was all too much.

But this… even you had to admit, this was fun.

Maybe because it was the first time you were working against Logan and not for him. And being around the Roy siblings reminded you of your childhood—a time where the four of you got along for the most part, even with the bloody noses and scraped knees and the yankings of hair.

Buying Pierce had been something you were starkly against while you were working in Waystar, but with this new thing that the Roy siblings were crafting, you had complete faith that Shiv, Kendall—hell, even Roman, would keep the news station’s values in check.

And, though you weren’t entirely proud of it, there was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline, when the four of you raised your bidding price to a healthy ten billion as a closing offer, knowing there was no way Logan could ever consider outbidding that.

Nan Pierce accepted with little pushback, much to Logan’s fury.

Your godfather yelled at the four of you through the phone later that day, but there was no fear sitting within your stomach, like there usually was when he got angry. No, you were laughing. Kendall and Shiv and Roman—they were stifling their own smiles down at the screen, too.

That night, you stood on your balcony, a lit cigarette loosely balanced between your fingers. You weren’t at all a smoker—in fact, you hadn’t had one ever since you joined Waystar. It was an unprofessional look, in a sense. Not something you wanted to be associated with.

The goddaughter that smelled of cheap cigarettes. Wasn’t that an unattractive thought?

But you didn’t have to worry about that anymore, did you? Honestly, you weren’t quite sure yourself. You’d just assumed you were no longer part of the company, but knowing Logan…

He always had something up his sleeve. Maybe he’d wait until the siblings lowered their guards to snipe you in the back of the head. Or lure you back with meaty bait.

You took a short drag, faint grey wisps falling past your lips as you breathed out.

“You smoking now? Doing a little smokey smokes?” came Roman’s voice from behind you, making you turn your head with a slight grin. “Since when?”

“First one since I was a little baby teenager, I think,” you replied. Roman leaned onto the balcony railing beside you, shoulder pressing flush against yours. “They taste disgusting. Here—”

You took a drag—a longer one, this time—leaned forward until your lips were just a whisker away from his, and blew the smoke into him. He inhaled deep before jerking forward to kiss you, nose nudging yours in his fervor.

“Yeah. Fucking disgusting,” he mumbled against your lips, as if wanting to propel you into something more than just kisses.

Your eyes lit up with amusement, but you pulled away, leaving a lingering kiss on the side of Roman’s nose. The cigarette wasn’t at all used up, but you put it out on a small ashtray you had taken with you.

“I just wanted to try,” you said. “Was wondering if I’d like it after all this time, now that I have the freedom to.”

There was a curious glint to Roman’s molten eyes. “And do you?”

“Nah. Like I said—they taste disgusting.”

“Some people like disgusting,” he off-handedly said, and you shot him a pointed look.

A breezy laugh, lost to the wind. “Yeah. I might know someone.”

“You’re a goody two-shoes, you know that?” he commented snidely, but his eyes were far too soft for his words to strike harsh. “But it’s good. We need someone like that. The company, I mean.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, his hand lacing with yours. He began tugging you back inside. “Me too.”

Connor wanted the four of you to come to his wedding rehearsal at a fancy restaurant downtown—he texted you multiple different addresses, each text telling you to disregard the last one. Then, he called you (called Shiv first, but she was on the phone, passive-aggressively bickering with Tom), and told you exactly where he was. Apparently Willa wasn’t very happy with the venues they’d booked. He sounded sad—it was always easy to tell when he was sad.

And so the four of you set off for him, though not without Roman’s constant complaints. Spending some quality time with their eldest brother was the last thing the Roy siblings wanted to do—they had far more pressing matters at hand.

Sandi and Stewy, for one. They wanted to veto the acquisition for more dollars squeezed from Matsson’s hand. Roman was starkly against the idea, not wanting to blow more bullets into his father. Shiv and Kendall were far more willing to listen, though Kendall eventually backed down. It was appealing, you had to admit, especially because you hated Matsson’s guts, but you wanted to put business aside for the moment. Spend some time with Connor—after all, he was going to get married soon. If that ever ended up happening, that is.

Once inside the restaurant’s halls, you caught sight of Willa hurrying down the wide staircase by the entrance, looking a bit frazzled.

“Oh, hi!” she said, slightly breathless. “So you’re here now, huh?”

“Hi, Willa,” you greeted, embracing her with a loose hug before stepping back. “Are you… going somewhere?”

“You standing up my big bro?” Roman quipped from right behind you. He was joking, but Willa only frowned. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

There was a nervous laugh from both parties.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah, I’m just—I’m having a little drink. Away.”

Both you and Roman spared each other confused glances.

“Is the dinner rehearsal thing over? He still up there?” Roman asked.

The blonde fiddled with her phone, nearly dropping it. “Oh, uh, the rehearsal isn’t—it’s not done, no.”

“You’re leaving your own wedding rehearsal?” you gently questioned.

She smiled, though it came off only sad and tired. “I think they can manage. I’m not vital from here.”

Roman squinted at her. “Yeah, well… I mean, normally the bride is generally considered—correct me if I’m wrong—I think the bride is pretty vital in a wedding. Don’t you think?”

“Well! Yeah, but… I should go, though. Have a think about it all. I’m in a bit of a fuzz.” She laughed again, though it looked like she wanted to cry.

Nodding, you said, “Take care of yourself, Willa. Let us know if you need anything.”

She pursed her lips, eyes soft with appreciation. The two of you had never been quite close, but there was a mutual understanding between you. To be the pedestals of Roy men, the unnamed crutch, the woman on the arm.

With that, she hurried away.

“Fairy tale wedding, huh?” Shiv said, eyebrows raised. “Should we even go up? Seems like the rehearsal is over.”

“She said it wasn’t,” you replied, shrugging. “We should go see Con.”

Roman crossed his arms. “Yeah, Shiv, we really should. Why? You got something better to do than see your own brother before his wedding?”

“No, it’s just—we’ve got quite a lot to discuss, that’s all.”

It was Kendall’s turn to query, “What? Sandi and Stewy? They’re baiting us. Just let it go, Shiv.”

“I think they could really help us! We overpromised on Pierce!” she hotly defended.

“It’s a mind game,” Roman agreed with Kendall. “Just—fuck ‘em, okay?”

The redhead looked at you, but you shook your head. “Let’s just go see Connor, okay? We can hash it out after making sure he hasn’t got a gun barrel in his mouth.”

“Sure. Fine,” Shiv said, though it didn’t seem all that fine to her, judging from her pinched expression.

The four of you traipsed up the stairs, spotting Connor instantly—alone, surrounded by near-untouched platters of expensive food.

“Found him,” Roman sarcastically commented, pointing a finger at his oldest brother, who cracked a fond smile.

“Finally,” Connor said. “Took you guys long enough.”

Roman gave him an embrace from the side, saying, “Hey, bro. Hugsy.”

To the other side, Kendall patted his shoulder, another hand thumping on his chest. Shiv only barely leaned down to hug him, telling him, “Dad screwed us.”

“Yeah,” the eldest said. “I heard. But look at you guys—the Rebel Alliance.”

You were last to give Connor a hug, squeezing him tight, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “How’s the rehearsal been?”

A non-committal noise slipped past his lips. “Been good. It’s been okay.”

Roman made a strange, wincing sound, sucking air through his teeth. “Sure. Yeah, I believe you.”

Keen to change the subject, Connor surveyed his siblings—and you—with narrowed eyes. “So this is how it is, huh? Battle royale. Me and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Strange, you hadn’t quite recalled Connor being so in with his father’s business plans. And… the fact that Logan hadn’t shown up to the wedding rehearsal at all.

“You okay, man?” Roman queried, genuine concern slipping over his features. He was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “We bumped into Willa on the way in. She seemed all…” He drew up his hands to his face and shook his fingers about.

Pointedly, Connor dropped his gaze down to the table. Untouched food left and right. “Yeah. It’s alright. I think it’s fine.”

“You sure, Con?” you asked, slipping into the seat beside him, Roman on your other side.

“Yeah, well, I guess she just—she stood up to do her speech, and then she froze. Said that she couldn’t do it.” There was a laugh, dry and unpleasant and somber. “Then she went to the bathroom for forty minutes with her so-called friends.”

Roman wrinkled his nose and squinted his eyes at nothing in particular. “Oh, no, no, that’s—that’s totally fine. Don’t you worry about that. Just toss her another ten grand—or a snowmobile. Teeth-whitening vouchers.”

Unhappy with the meaning behind his brother’s words, Connor pushed himself away from the table, heading off to speak to Willa’s mom.

Tossing a glare in Roman’s direction, you sighed out, “Was that really necessary?”

“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Slumping into the chair across from you, Kendall huffed out, “This is so fucking weird.”

“Do we regroup at my place?” Shiv asked, still standing, impatient to leave even though they’d just gotten there.

Tilting his head, Roman incredulously said, “Shiv. Come on. He’s… he’s looking a little rough. Don’t you think?”

“Well, sure. I’m sorry that Dad fucked us and I’m sorry that we’re late. But we do need to decide fast.”

“The Sandi and Stewy deal?” you queried.

Shiv let out a frustrated exhale. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think we’re already decided, no?” Kendall said, lifting a shoulder in half a shrug. Roman nodded in agreement.

“Are we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments.” Shiv tapped her foot against the hardwood floors impatiently.

Glancing over at Connor, who was trying his best to console Willa’s mother, you bobbed your head, hesitant. “It could potentially ruin Matsson. The deal. I’d like to see it.”

Groaning a little too loudly, Roman said, “Sandy’s just a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just coming along for the ride. Can we not do this right now? It’s a fucking—it’s a packet of horseshit.”

Trying her best to stay calm, Shiv perched herself on the edge of the seat next to Kendall. “Okay. And what if I want to talk it through? This would help us.”

Kendall arched a brow. “I think we should just rise above it.”

“Yeah, okay, but maybe Dad is not on it like he used to be—and maybe he’s underplayed his hand, and the board are all just hand-fucking-picked Japanese plastic cats just waving it through,” Shiv argued.

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” you added, trying your best to sway Roman by nudging him gently. He merely rolled his eyes and prodded you back, but said nothing more.

It was then that Connor came hurrying back, carding a hand through his hair. He tiredly sank back down into his seat. “No luck. Still incommunicado. I just really hope she’s okay.”

“I’m sure she is,” you told him, rubbing a hand over his shoulder. “She just needs space, is all.”

“Yeah.” As if he’d flipped a switch, Connor straightened and plastered on a smile. “So, what do you guys say? A little bit of karaoke?”

All three siblings grimaced.

“Or would it be possible,” Roman began, scratching at his jaw, “to do anything other than that, in the entire universe?”

“I think karaoke sounds nice,” you offered. Honestly, you weren’t too keen on doing karaoke when your mind was abuzz with a million other things at the moment, but it was Connor, and he seemed so down about Willa at his own wedding rehearsal, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. It was like kicking at an already-wounded puppy.

Connor grinned. “Nice! One in the bag. Come on, you guys. Don’t leave us hanging.”

Shiv looked near ready to bash her head against the table. Kendall was glancing down at his phone—texting someone.

Roman rolled his eyes and groaned again, even louder than before. “Ugh. Fine! We can drink, though, right? I’m not listening to you sing sober.”

Clearing her throat, Shiv said, “Well, I just, we kind of have—other engagements right now—”

“Oh, sure. Everybody’s busy,” Connor crooned. Though, if you looked close enough, you’d see the unmistakable hurt in his eyes. Why didn’t his baby sister want to spend time with him?

“Come on,” Kendall said with an urgent hand slanting over Shiv’s shoulder, phone gone for now. “Let’s give him a drink.”

Clapping his hands, Connor stood up again. “Great! But—not any of your stupid places. Somewhere fun and real and—away from all the fancy dance. A real bar with, uh, with chicks, and guys who work with their hands in grease—sweat dripping down their backs and blood all over their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong,” Roman piped up, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Sounds hot,” you said with a genuine laugh. “Let’s go.”

The bar itself was atmospherically ambient, the lights warm and unharsh, the chatter light and friendly, the television playing a football match at a soft volume. You smiled—it’d been a while since you stepped foot into an actual bar full of people who weren’t aristocratic assholes.

Normal people doing normal things. What was that like?

Roman, on the other hand, looked particularly uncomfortable, shoulders stiff and expression taut. He was only here for his big brother, but his saint-like kindness only wore so thin.

Kendall ordered drinks for the lot of you—whiskey on the rocks for himself, a sealed soda for Shiv since she didn’t trust anything from the bar’s “tainted” nozzles, a fancy beer for Connor, a vodka tonic for Roman, and a strawberry margarita for you. He snorted when you asked for it, rolling his eyes to the side.

“You and your strawberries,” Kendall said, before heading off to call the bartender. You weren’t quite sure if his expression was fond or derisive. Perhaps both.

You sat beside Connor, peering over his shoulder, where he was staring at the screen with heavily knitted brows.

“Is that—is that Willa?” you asked, eyes widening upon seeing him zoomed onto a map with a tiny blue dot. “Are you tracking her?”

“Jesus, Con,” said Roman, laughing his high-pitched laugh. “That’s low, even for you.”

“What? I have her location shared,” the older brother said, earning quizzical looks from the three of you. “It’s a factory setting.”

Shiv made a noise of amusement. “It’s not.”

“Well…” Connor’s eyes darted back down to his screen, zooming in impossibly closer. “I’m reassured she’s definitely not on her way to Cuba.”

From his other side, Kendall appeared, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Well, her phone isn’t.”

Connor decided to ignore the comment. “She stopped moving, so… I guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure!” crooned Roman. “On another man’s dick.”

The rest of you sighed, and you shook your head.

“On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick, is all I’m saying,” Roman reassured his eldest brother, patting his shoulders.

“Can we not?” Connor softly said, though he was smiling down at Rome. Even though his words hurt, just the fact that he was there for him cheered him up just a little bit. “Okay? I’m feeling—I’m having certain anxieties, alright? I want to have a good time!”

Once Roman muttered a quick apology, you bumped him off to the side so you can press up next to Connor again, staring down at the blue dot, still unmoving. “I’m sure she just needs a breather. It’s a big deal, y’know. Marriage.”

“I know,” said Con, sucking in a deep breath. There was a profound sort of loneliness to his eyes. “I just thought—I thought it was enough. All of it. It was enough for her.”

“It will be,” you said, nudging him. “Eventually. Just give her time.”

The drinks came then, and you hummed contentedly after taking your first sip. “Fuck. Why don’t they ever have shit like this at the fancy events we go to?”

“Because it’s diabetes in a cup,” Roman replied, but he plucked the glass from your fingers to snag a sip for himself. “It’s literal sugar water. Barely any alcohol in here.”

“Well, I’m not looking to get wasted,” you said, before snatching it back, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “You drank so much!”

“Nuh-uh, there was barely anything in there to begin with!”

“Roman, it was filled to the brim two seconds ago, what are you talking about?”

Before the two of you could divulge into a round of childish bickering, Connor abruptly straightened in his seat. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t make sense—is that a drug thing?”

Kendall cleared his throat. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You sure?”

Roman snickered. “It is. It’s a drug thing.”

“Maybe she’s getting a pet fish,�� you unhelpfully supplied. “A little pre-wedding gift for the two of you?”

Frowning, Connor said, “Now she’s at a dry cleaner’s.”

“Probably getting her panties cleaned from the new dick’s cum,” quipped Roman. The absurdity of the statement made you laugh unexpectedly, but you quickly quietened when Connor stared at the two of you in horror.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, as if he were a parent scolding a naughty toddler.

“I’m not saying it’s your cum! Your cum, I’m sure, is very washable.” Roman droned on to an incredulous Connor some more, but your attention was drawn to Kendall, whose phone began to ring, and he quietly excused himself from the bar to take the call, face twisted into unmistakeable dread. You briefly wondered who he looked so anxious to talk to, but the thought was quick to banish from your mind entirely when Connor prodded Roman in the shoulder and said your name.

“Okay, that’s enough from you. Y/N, can you tell him to stop? Tell him to stop.”

“Stop it, Roman. Don’t talk about your brother’s cum, you weirdo.”

Rubbing his palms together, Roman shrugged the matter away entirely. “I’m starving. Anything to eat in this shit shack, or what?”

By the time Kendall came back, the rest of you were crowded into a small booth with a dingy little light hanging a little too low over the table. There was a platter of cheesy nachos in the center, which Shiv eyed with distaste. Roman was still looking over the menus, sarcastically wondering aloud from which creature they’d clipped the wings off of.

“Who were you talking to, Ken?” you asked. “It wasn’t Frank again, was it?”

Kendall’s eyes darted from your face down to the floor. “Uh… no. No, it was—it was Stewy.”

Something about his demeanor screamed that he wasn’t telling the entire truth, but you kept quiet, watching him with just barely narrowed eyes.

“Oh, great. What the fuck does he want now?” Roman hissed, peering over the crinkled lamination of the menu he was holding.

Kendall leaned forward slightly, regarding Shiv with a pointed stare. “Actually, guys, can I… can I show you something? On the comparables. It’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction. Just a few moments ago, Kendall wasn’t at all interested in Sandi and Stewy’s pitching. What changed his mind?

Nodding in satisfaction, Shiv added, “Yeah, see? It makes you think. Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be. You know, he’s being pushed around by Matsson—hell, even by Kerry. Giving shows to his girlfriend? That’s just—it’s an embarrassment!”

Loudly, Connor exclaimed, “Fuck, she’s in the East River now! She’s in the—oh. Wait, no, she’s just on the bridge.” You popped a nacho in your mouth and glanced over at Connor, who was squinting down at his phone.

“Looks like she’s going on a little trip,” you hummed. “She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay, not to be dicks, Con, but is it okay if we do a little breakout chat, just the four of us? We won’t be long, like—two minutes max,” Shiv said, expression serious and unyielding.

Rolling his eyes, Roman gestured to his oldest brother. “Hey, just—fuck it. Why don’t we fold Con in?”

“Well, he’s not on the board, so—”

“Yeah, but he has a share. If the deal falls, he loses his payout.”

An incredulous frown pulled at his lips. “Excuse me?” Connor said.

“Oh, okay, so Shiv wants to get us mixed up in some drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow,” Roman told him, pursing his lips in an exaggerated fashion.

Holding her hands out, Shiv shook her head. “Uh, no. All we’re aiming for is a small delay. We all want the deal to go through.”

“Right,” you said with an amused snort. “Sure.”

“I, uh… I think I agree,” said Kendall.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Oh, what the fuck? Seriously?”

“It’s just—looking at the numbers… it’s compelling.”

With a grand scoff, Roman shook his head. “It’s compelling? Wow. You’d find a bag of peanuts more compelling, Kendall.”

You placed a hand over Roman’s jolting knee. “Rome, why don’t we just hear them out?” His eyes met yours, hesitant and conflicted. “And think—wouldn’t it be fun? Fucking Matsson in the ass?”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, you freak,” he scoffed, crossing his arms.

“So you guys are just gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor asked, mouth parted in surprise. “Oh, man. How long will a renegotiation take?”

Shiv’s lips twisted downwards, though it was more of a smile than a frown. “It’s a play. More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

It was then that Roman’s phone, facing upwards on the chipped table, vibrated thrice. The screen lit up with a text notification.

Dad.

All the siblings had seen it, and Shiv rushed to angle the phone towards her. Roman slapped her hand away, yanking his phone towards his chest. Hiding it.

“What the fuck?” Shiv asked, wary. “The fuck is Dad messaging you for?”

Roman stood frozen, reminiscent of a deer in headlights. “Uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him? Stupid question, Shivvy.”

Kendall stared at his younger brother blankly. “You’re not gonna read it?”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah, I’ll—I’ll read the damn thing. Sure.” A swipe of his phone, a kink to his brows. “It’s just a check-in.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shiv said, skeptical. “A check-in? Oh, yeah. Classic Dad. He just loves to check in on us, see how we’re doing.”

Backing down, Roman fessed up, “Okay, fine, I sent him a text on his birthday. Just saying, you know, happy birthday, sorry we missed it—”

“I’m sorry, wait a minute!” Shiv exclaimed. “You texted him first?”

Roman frowned. “It was his birthday, yeah.”

“We said no contact until he apologizes!” she angrily pointed out.

“Okay, so then never?” Roman shot back, scowling.

With a tilt of your head, you said, “It was just a simple happy birthday, right? That’s harmless. Right, Roman?” You pressed your foot over his, enough so he could feel the pressure, but not enough to hurt him.

“Yeah. That was it.”

“Nuh-uh. I want to see your phone,” said the red-head.

A flicker of panic flashed across Roman’s eyes. “Oh, really? Show me yours, then! World’s biggest WhatsApp group of people sharing pictures of your snatch. No, thank you. Fuck off, fuck you.”

“Roman, come on,” Kendall said. “We have to trust each other.”

Memories of Kendall forcefully taking Roman’s phone from you in Hungary briefly crossed your mind. You pursed your lips. He’d been hiding things from you then, who was to say he wasn’t hiding things from you now?

Relenting, Roman tossed his phone onto the table, almost hitting the platter of nachos. He was growing angrier by the second, frustrated by his siblings' shoes pressing against his spine. “Fine, take a good look. I don’t give a shit. It’s just dick pics, anyway. He’s got a real taste for ‘em now.”

You leaned over to read along with Shiv and Kendall. It looked fine to you—since it was just a simple birthday wish, but they seemed much more harsh in their critique.

“This is more than one text, Roman.” There was a crease between Shiv’s brows.

“Okay. What is it? Two, three?”

Kendall rubbed the faint stubble over his jaw. “It’s a bit warm.”

“Warm? Why, what did I say?”

“Take care.”

Scoffing, Roman’s eyes rolled up to the dingy, low-hanging light. “What was I supposed to say? Happy birthday, hope you fall down a flight of stairs, shithead!”

“I feel a little bit weird about this betrayal, if I’m being honest,” Shiv said in a steely tone.

“Betrayal?” Roman parroted, almost offensively. “The betrayal of happy birthday, Dad. Take care!”

“You know what?” Kendall chimed in. “I’m feeling a bit betrayed, too.”

Upset, Roman just about slammed his phone back down on the tabletop. “Wow. Great. Fucking family guilt-trip fest.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “It’s not illegal to say happy birthday, guys. Relax, okay?”

Connor nodded. “It’s hard. It’s been hard on everybody.”

The five of you sat in silence for a bit longer. Has it been hard? Or did it just feel like it because all of you had been so accustomed to getting everything handed over on a silver platter?

Finally, Shiv swallowed heavily and said, “You know that he advised Tom on the divorce? Gave him a Dad trick—went and spoke to every pit bull in Manhattan and tied them up. I got Mommed.”

You frowned. So much had happened in the past few months, you’d sort of even forgotten Shiv and Tom were heading for divorce. “Tom did that? Jeez… I’m sorry, Shiv.”

Roman blew out a breath, mildly relieved that the heat was taken off of him for a moment. “I mean, there’s probably one more horrible motherfucker lawyer around somewhere, but, uhm… that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Shiv refused to meet either of your gazes. She didn’t want to be reduced to… Tom’s ex-wife. A shadow of her mother.

“Guys, I just feel like we need to stick together,” Kendall said, firm. We should push back, and we should all be on board. We squeeze them.”

Equally level, Roman placed his hands on the table. “Okay, but, we want to do Pierce, right? We want an out?”

“Yes. But just with a bit more money,” Kendall agreed.

“Yeah, that’s the thing—I don’t think Matsson will go up in price,” Roman argued. “He won’t! I know this, because I’ve spoken to him. I really think he might walk.”

Good, you wanted to say, but you bit down on your tongue.

Both Shiv and Kendall began poking fun at him for not calling Matsson’s bluff.

Exasperated, Roman rubbed his knuckles along his hairline. “Okay, it just sounded like he meant it.” He didn’t look happy with the prospect of blocking the deal. He wanted to be a traitor to his Dad without being a traitor. To have his cake and eat it, too.

Shiv and Roman fell into another argument about whether or not Roman cared over conflict—that he was scared of his own Dad and wanted to back down like a coward.

Quelling his riled-up siblings, Kendall motioned for them to quiet down. “Honestly, though, guys. I think going with Sandi and Stewy is the best thing for us to do. As a team.”

Shiv nodded in agreement. “It’s a play. Buys us a couple weeks and more money.”

“He’ll get it,” Kendall said, trying to sway Rome. “It’s what Dad would do in his prime.”

And was that the goal? To try and imitate the beast to scare him off? A moth with false eyes to ward away predators?

Roman squinted at nothing in particular. Then, he angled his face to look at you. You hadn’t at all realized that your features were immobilized in uncertainty.

“What?” Roman asked, knee knocking against yours.

“Your Dad’s going to hate us if we pull this.”

Roman laughed, high and nervous. The idea made him nauseous. “Seems like he already does.”

“No, he… he loves you. All of you. But this is… he’ll hate that he loves you, sure, that’s always been the case. But this time… he’ll hate you if you’re the reason he can’t win.”

Something sick twisted within Roman’s gut. He seemed to go all pale and wide-eyed.

“It’s just a play, though,” Shiv said.

“Just a play,” Roman echoed, sounding unsure. “It isn’t real?”

Kendall nodded. Shiv, too.

“Fine. Yeah, fuck it. I’m in.” Roman caved, and the two smiled at him. You squeezed his knee.

With a sharp exhale, Connor huffed, “God damn it. God fucking damn it! You ruined it. You ruined it all.”

Roman apologized, but it seemed to fall upon deaf ears. Kendall tried to calm him down by asking his brother what he wanted to do. After all… it was supposed to be his big night before the big day.

“I wanted to get married tomorrow,” he said, cross. “I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with Dad. I wanted to get my fucking money out. But you guys fucked it!”

Feeling mildly guilty, your other hand came up to rub Connor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, really. You’re an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire. What can we do to make you feel better, Con?”

Several moments passed by in silence as Connor thought about it. What did he want? A giant bowl of ice cream so large you couldn’t see around it? A perfectly-tailored suit from the most expensive store he could find? A vintage bottle of whiskey and a nice book to sit with? They all sounded appealing to him.

“I would…” he finally started, “I’d like to sing one fucking song at karaoke because I’ve seen it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.”

Roman just about banged his head on the table. You flicked at his ear, before turning back to Connor. “Karaoke. Yeah, we can do that, Con.”

The room was illuminated with hazy shades of purples and blues, the lights hidden behind indents in the wall. It looked modern and sleek—an upscale to what was typically seen in the movies. Connor didn’t hesitate to make a beeline for the karaoke machine, fiddling with buttons and remotes and smiling to himself when he managed to get it up and working without asking for help. Shiv and Kendall wandered around cautiously. Roman was quick to toss himself onto the long, spacious couch, hanging off of the seats as if he were melting. You curled up beside him with a pleased hum, nose brushing over his lower cheek, scratchy with barely-there stubble.

There was a bit more dilly-dallying—Connor was concerned about Willa’s blue dot disappearing completely. The siblings were quick to brush him off, reassure him, tell him he wasn’t going to ever do better than Willa. The usual.

You sipped on a glass of champagne that Kendall handed you. There was more chatter—amicable and light and teasing. You poked fun at Kendall’s lame hat whilst Shiv plainly told Roman that his shoes were a size too large for his feet. That his feet were small and dainty and he would fall over if they were any smaller. More drinks, more giggling, more stories. You learned that fresh-faced college Kendall once puked on Stewy’s bed and cried at the foot of it after drinking too much. You told the siblings that you once slept with Angelina from accounting during your first year at the company, to which they responded with shocked snorts. There was a point where Roman grabbed your face and kissed you and kissed you until the rest of the siblings began faux-gagging, and Connor complained that it was like watching his siblings make out. Goddaughter-and-son incest, he’d said.

It was fun, maybe. The closest to fun you could have with Roy siblings.

And it was gone in a second, like a candle snuffed in a hurricane.

Logan was coming. Connor invited him because he loved him and he loved all of you and—

It hurt. Simple as that. It hurt to see the people he loved so… so torn.

The smiles melted away, and the laughter buzzed down. It was tense again. Family turned business once more. Connor finally put on a song to sing while he waited for his father to come, but your ears rang with white noise, so you didn’t quite register which song he was brokenly following along.

You were scared, you realized. Scared to face the man with the knife in his back. Roman worked his jaw and he complained some more. Not that you really heard what he said.

At some point, his phone began to ring, vibrating in his pants, pressed up against your leg. You raised a brow and scooched back so he could take it out to check.

Logan. Dad. Of course. Roman’s hands shook, but only a little bit. Enough for you to see. Shiv grabbed it and hung up for him, not liking how long he hesitated. You stared at the black screen for a bit longer, your own fingers twitching.

Connor continued to sing. He finished three songs—maybe four—until the door creaked open. No knocks.

Colin came in first, then your godfather, then Kerry. He nodded, almost polite, with a casual greeting hanging in the air. It was eternally strange, the way Logan smiled at you. Warm, maybe. You didn’t know.

“Shit,” Roman said, almost amused, mostly… unprepared.

Chancing a glance to Shiv and Kendall, you noticed their stiff upper lips, their frozen postures.

“Can we go somewhere else?” Logan asked, glancing around the large room. “These lights, er…”

Shiv shook her head in exasperation. A roll of her eyes. “We’re not going anywhere.”

There was little resistance to Logan. “Fine,” he easily acquiesced. With that, he took a seat in a velvet black chair, across all the siblings and you. Kerry jerked to sit next to him, which made Shiv recoil with a sneer.

“We won’t be needing you, Kerry. Thanks.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, this here is a family fuck-fuck.”

There were a few glances around, Logan and Kerry looked at each other but neither moved.

“Let’s get this figured out, and I can let you get back to your fun,” said Logan, ignoring them.

“Might be a wasted trip,” Kendall sardonically replied, tongue sharp. “Wanna give us a blast of New York, New York and fuck off?”

“I wanted to say something,” their father said.

Shiv retorted something else, and Kendall snickered under his breath. The buzzing in your ears grew louder.

“I guess I just wanted you there, a bit,” Logan said. “At my party.”

It was a play. Was it? Yes, of course. But if it wasn’t…

But it was.

“Holy shit,” Kendall crooned. “Did Dad just say a feeling?”

“Well, you know. I thought maybe it would be nice,” said Logan.

With exaggerated motions of his hands, Kendall exclaimed, “Oh, fuck! Now it’s all coming out! Oh, my God, Mr. Melodrama here! It’s like a fucking telenovela!”

Connor gestured between Kendall and his dad. “Come on, guys. He’s trying.”

Logan smiled, calm. “Y/N, dear,” he began. Your eyes snapped up to meet his and your spine seemed to grow rigid. “I had a lovely chat with your father. He was… surprised that you’re no longer holding Waystar together. Wouldn’t it be a shame, considering all the money he’s invested into the company? You’re setting millions on fire.”

The siblings all looked at you, curious. You swallowed, finding your throat painfully dry, despite all the champagne you’d been sipping prior to Logan’s arrival.

“If they expected me to stay at Waystar my entire life, they were always bound to be disappointed,” you responded, careful. “I won’t be tied down.”

A twitch of the old man’s mouth. Down or up or perhaps it hadn’t moved at all. “A shame. You worked so hard to compose acquisition branch details on Pierce just under a year ago. So much paperwork.” He shook his head. “And all of you—you knew I wanted Pierce ever since then. When I lost out, it wasn’t a good feeling.”

Fed up, Shiv finally leaned forward and hissed out, “I’m sorry, can we just cut the shit? It’s obvious why you’re here, Dad!”

Unsuspectingly, Kerry chimed, “Your father wanted to address the personal stuff and not just launch into business.”

Shiv’s jaw clicked. “Well, see, this isn’t personal, Dad. This is a business decision. This is about the money.”

Logan bobbed his head. “Look, you’re smart to ask about the money. You are. But Matsson—he won’t go there. You haven’t been around this, but I’ve got done a good deal and you’ll get enough to do whatever you want. I do ATN, you do Pierce. It’ll be a fresh start for all of us. It’ll make things better, and it starts there. All you have to do is… vote yes and support the deal.”

There was an uneasy shift next to you—Roman looked torn.

“You can separate the personal from the business,” Kerry offered. “Reset your dynamic as a family.”

Shiv snorted. “Oh, super! It’s gonna be just like how it used to—summer vacay and road trip musicals!”

Hesitant, Roman supplied, “It just… it may be more complicated than that, dad.”

“I guess you’re still in the honeymoon phase,” Shiv told Kerry, cold and sarcastic. “Getting your own show on TV… amazing.”

The dark-haired woman glanced around, seeming to shrink further into her seat.

“No?” Roman asked, his attention piqued. Anything to latch onto to make everything feel less—tortuous. “You’re not going to be on TV now?”

Shiv laughed. “Has he fucked you on that?”

Kendall nodded. “That’ll happen. The fucking. But congrats on losing your betrayal cherry—”

“Enough!” Logan said. It wasn’t loud, but heavy with finality. Your pulse skipped a beat, scratching down your ribcage almost painfully. Logan looked tired. “I though you’d be interested in an apology, but that’s enough.”

Incredulous, Shiv held a hand out. “Wait, what? An apology? We missed that, I think.”

Logan fixed an intense stare over all his children. “Look, I don’t do apologies. But if it means so much to you, then… sorry.”

In all your years of living, you’re not sure you’ve ever heard Logan apologize before. Was it genuine? Was it real? There was a long, terse silence. Roman stared at his father with his mouth slightly agape. You wrapped your arms around your stomach and stared at the door. Connor was looking down at his shoes. Kendall aimlessly observed Logan, finding that the apology he’d yearned for so many years of his life seemed to fall incredibly flat.

Shiv just about glared at her father in a challenging fashion, lips pursing tight. “There is nothing you could say to me now that I would ever believe.”

“This deal push could be worth a hundred mil to us, Dad,” said Kendall. “How many sorrys do we get for that?”

Kerry was starting to say something, but Roman butted in, looking incredibly troubled. “What are you actually sorry for, Dad? Are we actually doing this? Because I think, you know… seriously, what fucked all of this was when… it all happened with Mom in Italy.”

Logan averted his gaze to the carpeted ground. “Yeah, okay. I’ve had certain thoughts about that. With the best of intentions, I got the structure of the holding company, and the ownership structure of the family trust. There is a lack of clarity, and maybe you got a—”

“Amazing,” Shiv deadpanned, cutting her father off. “You sure you’re not having a seizure?”

For the first time in a very long time, Connor raised his voice at his baby sister. “He’s trying, Shiv! You said you were interested in an apology!”

Shiv glared at her father again. In a less harsh tone, she asked, “Anything else, Dad?”

There was a long pause. You wondered if Logan was haggling for words.

“Come on, Dad,” Kendall goaded. “What are you sorry for?”

It felt like bullying, almost. In a severely twisted way.

Kendall continued on, “Are you sorry for fucking ignoring Connor his whole life?”

“Bit strong,” protested Connor.

“Hitting Rome when he was a kid?” Kendall pointed at Roman, who shrugged.

“Oh, no—I mean, everyone hit me. I’m fucking annoying.”

You frowned at Roman’s words, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Having Connor’s mom locked up?” Kendall continued on.

Something twisted in the eldest Roy sibling’s expression. “Can we not do a whole show trial here?”

Finally, Shiv hissed out, “Okay, what about advising Tom on my divorce? Yeah? I mean, that took effort. That was above and beyond.”

“Tom asked me for advice,” said Logan. It didn’t go past everyone’s notice how he ignored all the rest of the hurtled accusations. “I recommended someone he could speak to. You weren’t around. If you’d been around, I would’ve offered you the same advice. But I can’t help you if you don’t see me.”

Shiv was hurt. It was clear as day, even if she refused to show it. She built up a wall, a front, brick by brick, and spun her hurt feelings into a low-flamed fury.

“Bottom line is, if we ask for more money, Matsson walks. I know that.”

“No!” Shiv asserted. There was something firmer in her tone this time. Angrier. “You don’t know that! You don’t know him! You don’t fucking know everything! Just because you say it doesn’t make it true! Everyone just fucking agrees with you and believes you so it becomes true—and then you can turn around and say oh! You see? I was right! But that’s just—that’s not how it is. You’re a human fucking gaslight!”

The silence that stretched across the room was thin. You were afraid to breathe, and so you bit down on your tongue.

Logan nodded and nodded. The brothers were quiet.

And so you felt compelled to say something. Sick with nerves, but compelled nonetheless. “Matsson has been fucking the company since the very start of negotiations. It’s only fair if you… bite him back.”

Logan watched you. There was something in his eyes that seemed to soften, but it was near imperceptible. Maybe you were simply seeing what you wanted to see. “I can’t take that risk,” he finally said. “Look, I just wanted to get us all together. What you kids don’t realize… this is a good deal. The world likes it. It makes sense. But deals have a habit of disappearing because pricks like Matsson get pissed off or snubbed. This… this is fucking real.”

You turned your head away and stared at the door once more. You wanted to leave. Crawl into bed and stop thinking about it all. Beside you, Roman was biting down on his thumb. A nervous habit.

“Okay, I think I can speak for everyone when I say this… go ask him for more money, Dad.” Shiv narrowed her eyes at her father.

“Why?” Logan asked. Are you not satisfied with what you already have? was the unsaid, lingering question hanging in the air.

Kendall tilted his head up. “Just good business sense. Gotta make our own pile. Right, Dad?”

“Yeah, I just have to listen to my gut. I just gotta go with what my gut says,” Shiv piled on.

“Oh, come on. Jesus.” Logan pulled at his face, tired. In a span of five, maybe ten minutes… he seemed to age a decade. Finally, finally, the nice mask slipped. He leaned back in the velvet seat and spat out, “You’re such fucking dopes.”

Roman’s nose twitched and he shifted so he could lean further into you. You let him.

“You are not serious figures,” Logan went on. “I love you… but you are not serious people.”

His eyes were glassy for a second, but you weren’t exactly sure, because he stood up and hurriedly strode out of the karaoke room the very next second. No goodbyes. Kerry followed close behind him.

The hazy purple lights were beginning to make you nauseous.

Everybody sat in silence for a little while longer. Let the conversation marinate. Shiv poured herself a drink and smiled into the rim, expression victorious.

“How was it for you guys?” she asked the group. “Fucking Dad, that is.”

“Amazing. Just over too soon. I could’ve kept going,” Kendall admitted.

Roman abruptly stood up, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. He made a noise of disgust.

“Rome, we’re kidding, man,” Kendall said.

He began to pace around, like a caged animal. “No, I know. It’s fine. It’s cool.”

Connor also stood up, shrugging on his jacket. “Well… I’m going home. ‘M tired.”

“G’night, Con,” you said. He reached over the couch to give you a one-armed hug from behind. “She’ll come home. Willa.”

“It’s fine,” Connor said.

Kendall arched a brow. “Really?”

“Yeah.” There was a nod and a tap of his shoe. “The good thing about having a family that doesn’t love you is that you learn to live without it.”

Shiv’s face crumpled. “What? Con, that’s not—”

With a shake of his head, Connor scoffed. “You’re all chasing after Dad saying, “Oh, please, love me, love me, I need love, I need attention!””

“I think that’s the opposite of what just happened,” Shiv argued.

“You’re needy love sponges,” Connor pressed. “And I’m a plant that grows on rocks and lives off insects that die inside of me.”

Shiv laughed, Roman huffed, and Kendall stayed silent.

“If Willa doesn’t come back, that’s fine. ‘Cause I don’t need love. It’s like a superpower,” he said. “And if she comes back and doesn’t love me, that’s okay too. I don’t need it. Thanks for the party.” With that, he stepped out of the karaoke room.

You jolted out of your seat, ignoring Roman’s questions as to where you were going. You rushed out the door after Connor, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste.

“Connor!” you called out. The older man halted in the middle of the dimly lit hallway.

“What? I’m not looking for pity, Y/N—”

You shuffled forward the last few steps and put your hand on his elbow. “Con, I just… I wanted to say—” You shook your head and wrapped your arms around him. “You’re my brother. I know you are. And… even if you don’t need love or whatever you were on about in there… I’ll still love you anyway. Okay? I don’t need you to need my love. You’ll have it.”

There was a momentary pause before Connor jerkily moved to pat your back and hug you back. Loose, but solid.

“You’re just a kid. A kid with my kid brother,” he said once he pulled away, rubbing his palms up and down your forearms. His eyes seemed to be watery and tired, but he laughed right from his belly. “I love you, too, kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

The two of you grinned at each other.

“G’night, Con.” He let you go when you stepped back. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” Connor nodded. “Big day.”

He walked off, and you watched him go. When you heard the door open, you turned to see Roman peeking his head out.

“Hey, Rome,” you greeted. “I love you, you know that?”

His eyes roamed over your face, and he smiled back. It was lopsided and slight. “Mmkay. Yeah, me too, fuckface. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Should get home.” You craned your neck to lean forward, affectionately pecking his cheek. “You coming with?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. Eyes to the ground, then to the walls. Not on you.

“Not… not yet. I’ll come in a bit. Just need to grab something from my place first.”

His place was barren. Everything in his place, you had in yours. You probably had more of his clothes in your closet than his own. You regarded him with a curious look, but decided not to press further.

“Okay, Rome. You have the key. Just don’t jostle me awake when you climb into bed.”

He guffawed. “I’ll sleep on the floor then, your royal majesty.”

“Thank you.”

“I was joking. Just so you know. You prick.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to sleep on the floor, anyway. A waste of body heat.”

He kissed you then, surging forward to chase after your lips. You hummed in pleasant surprise, but kissed him back with just as much vigor. His lips were a darker shade of pink when he pulled away.

“See you at home, Roman.” After a final pat on his cheek, it was your turn to walk off.

Roman wrung his hands nervously. There’d been a text to his phone while you were out talking to Connor—from his Dad. He glanced back at the door, where Shiv and Kendall were still speaking to each other inside. He rolled his shoulders and began to slowly walk out of the building, careful not to bump into you.

He was going to go pay his father a visit.

The top spot at ATN. Was it a tempting offer in it of itself or was it just tempting because his father was goading him to lick off the silver platter?

When he told you, and of course he told you, you just about blew up—in the most professional, stick-in-ass way possible—warning him not to take the offer with a strained voice and wide eyes. Not even consider it. ATN wasn’t where he wanted to be. His father was offering him a cyanide pill, obscured by a layer of fucking strawberries and cream.

The next morning, he numbly got dressed for Connor’s wedding. Got into the car after you, pinching your thigh once he clambered in next to you. His father called him on the way there, much to your dismay, telling him to come with him to meet Matsson, despite Connor’s wedding being literal hours away.

Roman turned him down. But he didn’t turn Logan away when he told Roman to fire Gerri since, apparently, he was beginning to lose faith in her.

You were pretending not to listen to their conversation, but he knew you were. He could tell by the way your jaw seemed to twitch at the prospect of cutting Gerri loose.

“Shit,” he breathed out once Logan hung up on him. “That’s fucking… bullshit.”

You drew your eyes away from the window, regarding him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t do it, Rome.”

Everything felt crowded and tense all of a sudden. Roman squared his shoulders defensively. There was a stinging quip on the tip of his tongue, but nothing seemed to come out other than a rather passive, “Mmh.”

The rest of the drive to the wedding venue was silent. But your hand came to lace with his, and that made him feel just a bit better.

Once there, about half a dozen cameras swarmed the two of you coming out of the car, taking several candid shots, much to your irritation. It was only expected, what with Connor being in the run for president and the whole wedding being a PR move, anyway. But you gave them a smile nonetheless, made a show of kissing Roman’s cheek and walked off to greet other work acquaintances and wedding guests. From the corner of your eye, you could see Roman trying to talk to Gerri with a rather terse look on his face. You tried not to pay him any mind. He was digging his own grave.

Half an hour later, the wedding planner announced for family and friends to start boarding the boat. The few businesswomen you were chatting to kissed you on the cheek and told you they’d see you soon. You waved them goodbye and made your way onto the boat. Kissed and hugged and congratulated Willa. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress, even if she didn’t appear all too happy wearing it. After a short conversation, you moved on into the boat.

It was lavishly decorated, screaming luxury and American patriotism. There was a concerning amount of blue and red strewn everywhere. They weren’t being very subtle, were they?

You made your way onto the second floor, greeted by Kendall in a pair of sunglasses.

“Hey, loser,” he said, nudging you in the side. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied, giving him a quick once over. “You look shitty. Hiding your terrible eyebags behind those shades, are you? Not doing a very good job, by the way.”

He seemed unfazed by your jab. “You excited for the wedding?”

“Neither Connor nor Willa seem too hot about it,” you told him with a mild grimace. On your way to the boat, you heard Connor yelling at his wedding planner about the cake being inadequate.

Kendall shrugged and pulled a nonchalant expression. “It’ll blow over. They’ll be fine.”

“I know. It just feels so… fake. All of it.” You jerked your head toward a frilly blue, red, and white banner.

“Yeah, well, yours won’t be,” he said, scrutinizing you behind those ridiculous shades of his. “With Rome, I mean.”

“Wow! Yeah, well, we aren’t quite there yet, I think.” You laughed and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “Besides, I can’t guarantee that you’re even invited to this hypothetical wedding. Who knows? I can never tell with you guys. You’re always five minutes away from ruining each other’s lives or being best friends.”

“I’ll crash your wedding if I’m not invited. It’s my baby brother, dude. I have to be there,” he said. You couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not.

“Good to know,” came your lighthearted retort. “I’ll be sure to save a slice of cake for you.”

With that, you bumped your fist into his bicep and walked off. Then, you spotted Roman out on deck, phone in his hand. You stepped out just in time to hear him bark out, “Don’t listen to this if you don’t want to—but I’m not… I’m not, uh, totally okay with… are you kinda just being shitty with me, Dad? ‘Cause… your son is getting married, and you can’t fucking just keep expecting me to bend over for you and being cunty, so I’m just asking. Yeah—that’s the question, actually. Are you a cunt? Okay. Give me a buzz.”

There were a few seconds of silence after he hung up. You approached him from behind and slung both your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, fuckface,” he said. He sounded tired. Distressed.

“Hey,” you quietly said in reply. “I’m proud of you.”

“For calling Dad a cunt?”

“Yeah.” You huffed out a laugh. “I really am proud of you.”

Roman leaned back against you and hummed. “I just got on this boat and I already want to fucking leave.”

“That’ll break Connor’s heart.”

“I know. I’m his favorite brother.”

“I think Shiv is his favorite brother, actually.”

The two of you laughed, and he didn’t bother arguing back.

“Come on. I think Kendall and Shiv are looking for you,” you said, tugging him inside.

The two of you greeted the three other Roy siblings, where Connor was giving a rundown of his plan for Logan.

“Okay, so the idea is that Dad will pop by, be dockside, and you guys will just be up here. I think that’s cleanest,” Connor told all of you.

Shiv pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Oh… okay. You really think he’s going to pop by?”

“I spoke with Kerry,” Connor said with a smile, crossing his fingers. “He’s hoping.”

With a nod of thanks, he gave you and Roman both a quick hug, before rushing back downstairs to be with his wife-to-be.

“Well, someone’s gotta tell him,” said Shiv. “We should tell him.”

“We should,” Kendall agreed. Both you and Roman nodded.

“Well, Shiv, you are his favorite,” you offered.

The woman’s face regarded you as if you’d just stabbed her in the back. “No, come on—really?”

“He likes you,” Kendall insisted.

“Fine,” she sighed with slitted eyes. “I’ll be the wedding Grinch. Fuck you.”

The three of you watched her go with muted snickers.

Then, Roman’s phone began to buzz. He fished it out of his pocket and let out an annoyed groan upon seeing Tom’s caller ID.

“Oh my—ugh,” Roman hastily pressed on the green answer button, “Hello? Fucky-sucky brigade, how can I help you? Yeah?”

You leaned onto the fancy leather couches next to Kendall, who was staring out the window, watching the gentle waves roil over the surface of the harbor. “Hey, Ken?”

“Mmh?”

“I’d invite you, you know.”

Kendall’s eyes left the waters to look at you. “What?”

“To my wedding. Before I said I couldn’t guarantee you a spot—but I’d want you there.”

Something akin to gratitude flashed across his face. Before he could say anything, Roman’s panicked voice echoed over, and the both of you snapped your heads towards him.

“What?” he said into the phone. “Tom, what are you—?”

“What?” Kendall asked, immediately on his feet. “What’s happening?”

You followed suit, the two of you hovering over Roman’s sides.

His palms grew white over the phone. “It’s—uh, Tom. Apparently Dad’s sick. Uh, what do you mean he’s sick? Sick, like—Tom? What’s going on? Are you still there?”

“Where is he now?” you asked, brows furrowed. Roman could only shake his head, equally clueless, pulling the phone away so he could put it on speaker.

“Is he okay?” Kendall immediately asked. “Who’s with him?”

There was a lot of rustling and rummaging. It felt as if your heart had crawled its way into your throat.

“It—it seems bad. Very, very bad. I’m so sorry to call you like this,” Tom’s voice crackled through.

“What?” you croaked. “What is it, though? Like, a fever?”

“Can you put him on the phone?” Roman asked. His voice shook and his brows were pulled tightly together.

Again, Kendall asked the same questions, “Who’s there? Tom, what’s going on? What happened?”

“Ah—” You could practically see Tom scratching at his head. “He was short of breath and he went into the bathroom. And, well, uh, someone heard something and we were concerned, and they went in there.”

Kendall used his hands to gesticulate to nobody in particular. “They broke in?”

“They broke in, yeah. They had the key and they got in, but he’s not responsive.”

“Not responsive?” you parroted, eyes widening. This was far worse than just… sick. “Like—is he conscious?”

The brothers started to blurt out a multitude of questions, concerns exponentially heightened.

“Is he talking? Can he talk?” Kendall asked.

“Is he breathing?” Roman’s shoulders were hunched over, as if he was trying to shrink in on himself.

There was a brief pause. Uncomfortable and festered with fear.

“They’re doing chest compressions,” Tom’s voice pierced through.

Your lungs seemed to contract in panic at his words. The room felt all the smaller.

“Oh!” Roman exclaimed in a mixture of both shock and anguish. “Fuck.”

Kendall only pressed on with his queries. “Has his heart stopped?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you guys have the machine on board? The heart thing?” Roman asked.

“The defibrillator,” you said, clutching both your anxious, wringing hands to your chest.

How had the day turned on its head so quickly?

“Is Siobhan there?” Tom’s voice was patchy and unclear. It was hard to hear over Kendall’s barrage of frustration.

“No, she’s not,” said Roman.

“Karl said that maybe he’s breathing,” Tom claimed.

Leaning forward, you hissed out, “Karl isn’t a medical professional, Tom. Who’s trained in there?”

“The, uh, the people. The attendant. I’ll put you on speaker—here’s, uh, Karl, here—”

The older man’s voice buzzed through, “That captain has been informed. The cabin staff are receiving medical advice from their service.”

Both Kendall and Roman barked questions over each other. Faintly, you heard an additional third voice in the back of the call.

“Is that Frank?” you asked.

Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, so—Frank thinks you guys should speak to him. And I can—I can hold the phone near him if you’d like.”

Roman bit down on his tongue, angry. “Why does Frank think that, Tom?”

“I guess if it’s a last chance, you know. I think it’s the last chance.”

A shudder and a glare from Roman to the phone. “What the fuck do you mean, Tom?”

“You think he’s gonna die?” you whispered, eyes stinging as you stared down at the screen, watching the seconds of the call tick by.

“He’s… he’s not in good shape. They’re doing chest compressions.”

“Well, should they be doing that?” Roman just about yelled at the phone. You placed a hand on his hunched shoulder.

Frank began talking again, “They’re getting advice, they know what they’re doing. But I think you should talk to him. I’m not sure he’s breathing.”

The two both spluttered angrily. In denial, in frustration, in utter devastation.

“We just heard that he was breathing two seconds ago, Frank. You shouldn’t be doing CPR on someone who’s heart is still going! What the fuck is going on, Frank?” Kendall gritted out.

“I’ll put you by his ear,” Tom said. “I’ll put you right by him. He’ll be able to hear you if—if he can.”

If you hadn’t been so hyperfocused on the call, you would’ve realized that your entire body began to simultaneously tremble and tense, like a plank of wood caught in a hurricane.

“Uh, you might wanna get Shiv, so she can—”

“Yeah, we’ll—we’ll get her,” said Roman.

“Okay, I’ll put you by him now.”

“Is he okay?”

“No, Rome, he’s not okay.”

“You can speak now. Go ahead.”

There was a blistering silence. Roman gestured for Kendall to take the phone first, but he shook his head. He turned to you, but you weren’t even looking in his direction, clamoring for your own phone to try and contact Karolina. Your hands seemed not to work in coordination with your mind, because you struggled getting your phone to unlock, and then struggled even more to open up the right app to get to your contacts list.

This left Roman to speak to his maybe-dead dad on his own. He hurried around the room, as if there was going to be a corner on this wretched yacht that would make this somewhat easier to say. He ended up crouching by the end of the leather couch.

“Hey, Dad. I, uh, hope you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” Was he reassuring himself or his father? “Because you’re a—you’re a monster, and you’re going to win. ‘Cause you just—you just win. That’s what you do. And you’re, uh… you’re a good man. You’re a good dad. A very good dad. Uh… you did a good job. No—no. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do that.”

With that, Roman unceremoniously stood up and shoved his phone right into your palms, tugging away your own. “It’s your turn.”

Your shaking grew all the worse, but you put on a brave face and held it up to your face.

“Oh, uhm—hi, Uncle Logan. You, uhm… oh—I wasn’t prepared or this, you know, I would’ve… I would’ve, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have…”

It occurred to you that you managed to say absolutely nothing in the precious few seconds he had left. This sent you spiraling into another bout of anxious trembling. You only barely registered Roman’s own shaking hand on your side.

“You were so—such a big role in my life. So important. And—and, and, I really couldn’t have done anything without your help. Thank you. For everything. I… I love you, Uncle Lo. Really, I do. And I love your kids like my own siblings, and—and Rome, I’m—I love him. I promise I’ll, uh, I’ll take care of him. I just—uhm, I can’t really, there are just so many things you…”

Your nails scratched over your chest as you heaved out a shuddering breath. Realizing you couldn’t finish, you made your way over to Kendall and handed the phone to him with teary eyes.

“Okay,” Kendall said with the phone by his nose, blinking helplessly at the ground. “Hang in there. Yeah? Uhm…”

“It’ll be okay,” Roman softly whispered to him.

“It’ll be okay,” Kendall repeated into the phone. “We love you, Dad. Okay? We love you. I love you, Dad. I do. I love you, okay? Uh—and… it’s okay. Even though you fucking… I don’t know. I can’t—I can’t forgive you.”

You sniffled and wiped a stray tear with the sleeve of your dress.

After a few final words, Kendall handed the phone back to Roman. Tom’s voice crackled through again, asking for Shiv.

“Ken’s gonna get Shiv,” Roman said, voice small and child-like. Kendall nodded and staggered his way out of the room.

There was more commotion on the other end of the line.

“What’s going on now?” Roman asked.

“I, uhm—there’s, I’m not so sure—” Tom’s glitchy voice replied. “I think he’s gone, Roman.”

“What?” you asked.

“I think—I don’t know, I think there might not be a pulse, they’re not—”

A few seconds passed, with only scuffling noises on the other end. Shiv and Kendall appeared through the doorway just a minute later.

“They think he’s gone,” Roman told his sister as he handed the phone to her. “They think he’s dead.”

“What?” Shiv asked, her eyes welling up almost instantaneously. “No! I… I can’t have that.”

Tom spoke a few words to his wife, telling her that he was putting the phone back by Logan’s ear. Shiv strode away to ramble to her father in a semi-panicked fashion. She called him Dad at first, which spiraled into whisper-cries of Daddy, and angry curses intermingled with a multitude of I love yous.

You tugged at your face, aching with all the tension you were carrying. Roman’s hand was on your arm, but he left your side half a minute later to take the phone away from Shiv, who seized up with incoherent noises through blurred tears. He hugged her, but she didn’t return it, frozen on the spot.

The siblings all asked him more questions.

“Is he okay at all?” Kendall asked.

“He’s not okay, no,” replied Tom. “He’s not.”

Shiv sucked in a shaky breath. “Is he gone? Tom?”

A brief pause.

“They say his heart stopped and his breathing stopped, too. For a while, maybe.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean he’s dead, medically!” Roman asserted. “Right?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it did mean exactly that.

“I don’t know,” came Tom’s calm voice. “They’re still doing chest compressions.”

Kendall began to order Tom around, then Frank, then Jess. Something about getting the best doctor in the world. The best airplane medicine expert, whatever that meant. He disappeared out of the room to go up to the deck. You took a seat on the couch and sank your face into your palms.

When Kendall returned, his face was solemn and set in stone. “Frank thinks he’s gone,” he said.

Roman sank down on the ground, right by your feet. Shiv took a seat next to you.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” Shiv sniffled, looking up at her big brother.

“I—Shiv, I did. We did,” Kendall said.

“No, but I was right out there. How long was it happening before?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m—I wasn’t thinking—” Kendall shook his head.

Roman drew in a sharp breath. “There was no time. I promise you, there was no time at all.”

Kendall took his little sister’s hand and repeated his apologies. The sight made more tears spill over your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, guys,” you hoarsely said. “He’s not even my dad.”

“No, it’s…” Roman patted your knee. “He was. He is. Kind of.”

“It’s just—on the phone Tom said that Kerry spoke to him. Quite a bit,” Shiv said, voice bitter.

“I don’t know,” said Kendall. “I don’t—we don’t know if he could hear us.”

Another sniffle. Shiv nodded a bit. “Yeah. I’m just sad, I guess.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably, looking up at his siblings and you with large, worried eyes. “Uh—do we know if he was on his phone at all? Like, if he checked his messages or anything?”

Faintly, you recalled Roman leaving a voice message for him. Right. Roman had called his father a cunt. And you’d said you were proud of him for it. Nausea pressed fervently against the inside of your stomach. Roman drew in a sharp, stressful breath.

“Rome, it’s okay,” Kendall assured him. “We’re okay. You did good.”

The words didn’t sit with you well. You did good—as if it were one last performance before the curtains closed. The circus monkey and the ringleader.

“Yeah, I know,” he quickly replied. Roman’s expression crumpled. “I don’t know if—I just don’t know. Like, if I said… I just feel like I didn’t—did I even say I loved him?”

Kendall nodded. “I think so, yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” Roman asserted. The grip he had on your knee tightened. “Do you know?”

“Ro, hon, I’m—” The words lodged in your throat as you reached out to brush your knuckles over his cheekbone. “He knows.”

“No, but I really don’t think I did—” Roman jerked away to lean closer to the phone Tom was calling through. “Tom, could you put me back to his ear for—ergh, fuck it. Never mind. I don’t know. Maybe just keep the line open.”

If Tom replied, you didn’t hear.

Instead, you glanced out the doorway, where you saw Connor speaking to some other wedding guests. He didn’t know.

“Oh, fuck. We need to get Connor. We need to tell him,” Roman said, following your gaze. “Can you do it, Ken? I don’t think I can. I mean, I could, I definitely could, I just—”

Kendall nodded solemnly, and stood up. Shiv offered to go with him, rising to her feet and drawing in a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to maintain her long-gone composure.

“Thank you,” Roman said from the ground. He crossed his legs and leaned against the side of your shins. In turn, you placed your hands on his shoulders and squeezed reassuringly.

“I don’t remember the last thing I said to him,” you mumbled, voice filled with irritating tremors and warbles. “In that karaoke room. I don’t remember any of it, and I wasn’t even drunk or anything, I just—”

Roman pressed his cheek against your thigh, shutting his eyes. “I think you were okay. I don’t know. Maybe he heard us. And you have such a nice voice, y’know? Maybe it was good for him. If he heard it.”

The two of you sat in stuffy silence for a few minutes more.

The three other siblings came to fetch the two of you sooner than you would’ve liked—whisking all of you upstairs to a more secluded room. Connor had tears in his eyes when all of you filed in, face wrought with anguish. “What happened?” he asked, sounding utterly devastated.

Roman apologized over and over again, but made no attempts to explain to him. Instead, he reached forward to grab at his oldest brother’s arm in a strange sort of semi-hug as Kendall filled Connor in on what happened.

“Well, actually, we don’t really know that he’s gone,” Roman asserted to the rest of you, drawing away from them.

Both Kendall and Shiv began to clamor over the likelihood of Logan’s death. They seemed surprised that Roman was clinging onto such hope that he was alive. You watched Roman with such sad eyes that when he looked at you, he found himself growing even more upset.

“What?” he asked you crossly, brows drawing together. “Why are you looking at me like that? He—he could still fucking be alive! We don’t know! Are you going to trust, what, like, fucking Frank and Karl’s word on it? Don’t look at me like I’m crazy!”

“Right, well, you sound delusional, Rome,” Shiv tried telling him. You could tell she was trying to lay it easy on him and be nice, but it didn’t quite sound that way.

The siblings argued some more. Roman kept denying that Logan was dead, while Shiv gritted out that he’s gone.

“All I’m saying is that we don’t know for sure. And—and until we do know, it’s just not a very nice thing to say, is it? So just fucking stop!” Roman yelled the last word out, and it ricocheted across the room like a bullet would.

They all fell silent for a moment.

“Okay,” Shiv said. She looked to be on the verge of crying again. With quiet, reassuring words, Connor wrapped an arm around his little sister and let her lean against him.

“Roman,” you said, making his eyes snap to you. They were red and looked so tired. You were sure yours looked just the same. When you spread your arms as a non-verbal invite, he surged forward and buried himself into your embrace. The two of you held onto each other as if you were both lifeboats for one another in this vast sea of fucking nothing.

Kendall, disillusioned, went back to staring out the window.

“He didn’t want us together,” Roman choked out, forehead drooped onto your sternum. “He fucking—he told me to end it, and I didn’t listen, and I just never listened to him…”

Both your hands rubbed up and down his back. “I know. I know, Rome. I love you even if he didn’t want me to.”

Your words made Roman’s shoulders curl closer to his chest. Closer to you. “Fuck. Me, too, okay? Me, too.”

Half an hour later, the boat began moving away from the dock, much to all of your chagrin.

Hugo had also come into the room, acting as a liaison. He told the lot of you that the plane-folk were starting to draft a statement to release to the news. The siblings angrily called them to ask what was going on—which did little to sway them.

Not too long after, Gerri came in to offer her condolences. Her presence made Roman all the more turbulent, and he lashed out at her, telling her to fuck off.

Shiv asked her godmother if maybe they could stay up in the air a bit longer to give everyone some more time to think—and Roman told her to fuck off, too. At that point, you stepped in to say that it’s probably best not to delay the inevitable. Thankfully, Roman didn’t tell you to fuck off at that.

“Just to say,” Kendall said once both Hugo and Gerri hurried off to answer calls and get more information, “every single thing we say and do today… it’s all going in the memoirs, going in the fucking congressional record, it’s coming up at board meetings, it’s going in SEC filings.”

“God, Kendall,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “Your grief is not a fucking spectacle, okay? It’s not—none of this is meant to be a performance. You can… you can be a fucking human being for once, okay?”

“No, but, listen, I’m agreeing with you,” he said, holding out a hand. “If we tell them to circle the plane around to buy us time, then some fucking rumors start up, and we get crucified for being cold-hearted, or—I don’t even know. We’re highly liable to misinterpretation right now. What we do today will always be what we did the day our father died. So I’m agreeing with you, Y/N. We shouldn’t delay the inevitable.”

Nose flaring, Shiv shook her head in a frustrated manner.

“So, you know, let’s grieve and whatever,” Kendall continued on, “but not do anything that restricts our future freedom of movement.”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding in agreement. “Okay, Kendall. We’ll be careful.”

The siblings stepped out to discuss drafting statements themself, and you told them you’d arrange transport off the boat to the airport, where they’d be landing.

Before you reconvened with them, however, you dropped by to see Connor one last time.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a frown that felt strangely childish, enveloping him in a hug. “I’m sorry your dad died, and I’m sorry I won’t be here to see you get married. Everything’s gone to shit and I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said, rubbing your back comfortingly, not unsimilar to what you did with Roman. “It’s okay, kiddo. I appreciate you coming here to tell me.”

You pulled away, using the back of your palm to brush away your tears. “I got you, uhm—as a wedding present, I got you an oil painting kit. It’s not much, but I thought it’d be fun to try it out with you one day. I guess I just didn’t think—I thought I’d be able to give it to you after the ceremony, but… I don’t think I’ll be around. I’m sorry.”

Connor nodded, and smiled at you sadly. “It’s like you haven’t changed at all in twenty years, you know that? I feel so fuckin’ old.”

“Have a happy wedding, Con,” you told him. With that, you turned on your heel and headed off, breathing out a sigh of relief upon seeing a smaller boat right by the one you were on, ready to take you back to land.

One boat ride, one helicopter flight, and one private car later, you arrived at Teterboro Airport, where their plane touched down. Logan was announced dead at arrival. Roman balked and nearly puked up what little he’d eaten on the boat—you rubbed his back and told him everything was okay as he dry-retched nothing in the airport bathroom. There were already dozens of news reporters and journalists flooding the entrance-way for the impromptu press conference the Roy siblings were holding.

Before the sun was down, the news was spilled at the hands of Shiv. It was short and concise, over in no more than a minute. Questions, questions, and more questions—none of which were answered.

“Are we going to go see him?” Roman asked once it was all over. The plane was in view.

“Do we have to?” Kendall replied.

“I mean, he’s not going to be angry if we don’t,” Shiv replied. The rest of you smiled in silence.

Then, Kendall opened his arms, and the four of you leaned into a brief group hug. You kissed Shiv’s cheek and told her to get home safe. She nodded and took her leave.

Roman jutted his head in the direction of the plane. “I’m gonna go see him. You coming, Kendall?”

The oldest scuffed his shoe into the concrete pathway. “I’m gonna—I’ll watch him come down from here.”

“Okay,” said Roman. There was no surprise in his tone, but it lacked any sort of harsh judgment.

“I’ll come with you,” you told Roman, taking his hand. “If you’re going to go see him, I’ll come with you.”

“Didn’t expect anything less,” he replied, eyes soft and sad.

With a nod of goodbye at Kendall, the two of you left him to stand by the airport exit.

“Do you think he would’ve been okay with us being together eventually, though?” Roman asked after a while, growing increasingly nervous as you neared the plane. Even now that his father was dead, he was still grasping for his approval.

There was a moment of contemplative silence. You wondered if you truly knew the answer to that, or if you were simply feeding into the kind-hearted caricature of a man Logan often didn’t live up to.

“I think so,” you replied. Roman squeezed your hand. “I think he would’ve been proud of us for sticking together, even if he didn’t want us to at first. He would’ve respected you for it, eventually, because you didn’t take his shit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You beckoned to the stairs leading up into the plane’s cabin. “You ready?”

“No.” Roman’s jaw squared. “I’m scared, I think. But I have to go see him. You don’t have to come, you know. You don't have to be so fucking good all the time. You can just leave if you want to.”

With a contemplative hum, you nodded once after barely giving his words any thought. “I know I don’t have to be here. I know it all, Rome. But I’ll come with you anyway. Anywhere you go.”

Roman raised your conjoined hands, kissed your knuckles in an appreciative manner, and led the way inside.

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