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#// straight up. exhausting my post count i did this to stop myself from posting OH WELL

bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

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Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid

#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years

Text

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

Tag 🔖 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @maurine07 @lovingramsey @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @archxxronrookie @jamespotterthefirst @the-pale-goddess @queencarb @fireycookie @qrkowna @coffeeheartaddict @utterlyinevitable @gryffindordaughterofathena @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @mrs-ramsey @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @mercury84choices @lisha1valecha @lucy-268 @stateofgracious @danijimenezv @alina-yol-ramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x noelle

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

if you’re going crazy, just grab me and take me

summary: after the worst year with this fucking family, Ransom proposes on ❄️ chrstmas eve ❄️ it obviously doesn’t go over as well as his emotionally-stunted ass thought it would.

warnings: every god damn word in this thing is a problem. rough smut. choking, anal, hair-pulling, biting, this shit makes the first chapter seem light, i’ll just say that. a lot of fighting. verbal and physical. there’s some fluff but don’t let ransom trick you like he’s obviously tricked me.

word count: this shit is almost 25,000 fucking words 😂😂😂. i dead ass kept being like why the fuck am I taking so long to post this? Then I saw the word count and I 😳🤭🤗😂 someone pls tell me i did not just devote 25,000 words to exposing myself as a weak ass hoe for Ransom. pls tell me this is a fever dream. i can’t.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

a/n: holy fuck, am i a disaster. i apologize, i kept falling asleep and wow, i’m just confused about my entire process for writing this bc it was abnormal af.

part one: x part two: x (however, you don’t really need to read them to understand this mess? pretty sure.)

Christmas Eve:

It somehow felt that the entire hellscape that you were currently living in had simultaneously transpired yesterday but also years ago. That was the common feeling one was left with in times of so much exposure to Thrombeys. It was a whirlwind, but there were the good moments, and then the really bad moments, but then the kind of fun moments… It was a rollercoaster, honestly. One you had incorrectly believed you could cope with.

Meg and Joni had called you in a panic from the ski lodge they’d gone to in Canada. There was talk of stopping all flights, how were they going to get home? And lord, what about their home? Were they really supposed to stay there? Since being cut off, Joni had made some career moves that were smart, but she still had to scale back. They were in a much smaller place than before, one that was only temporary—Joni claimed as much about one million times while signing the papers for it.

Jacob had been the next to call, a hysterical Donna could be heard in the background. They had also been moving into another home because of financial issues. You weren’t sure what the ploy was with having Jacob call. Out of everyone in the family, he was the one you spoke to the least, maybe in competition with his irritating mother. Perhaps that had been the angle, were you really going to leave them isolated with their possibly murderous son in such a small house in an unknown neighborhood?

The answer was no. You weren’t going to leave out any Thrombeys. The Drysdales, on the other hand… You had made your terms quite clear. So, with the news of a quarantine sweeping across the country, these overprivileged people flocked to the house they had once called their own. But it was your house now, and that meant it was well within your right to exclude Linda and Richard.

The night you had told Ransom about it was…quite a night.

March: the arrival,

Your grand idea was to deliver the news quickly, over a drink when he was in the best mood he could be. You casually told him that Joni and Meg would be arriving first, then Walt, Donna, and Jacob.

He stared for a long time before simply stating, “I will not let them in the house.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom—”

He leaned forward, slamming his glass down on the table between you. “It’s not happening.”

You arched an eyebrow. Was he trying to be intimidating? Oh, you would be just terrified if you were an elderly author or poor nurse tasked with caring for the mentioned author. Seeing as you were his girlfriend, he was out of luck on that.

“I will lock the doors,” he declared, standing to place his hands on his hips. “Not one of those assholes is getting in here. You understand me?”

Instead of answering, you grabbed your drink and returned to the magazine in your lap. That was probably Ransom’s greatest source of irritation, when you decided you were done with the dramatics and ignored him.

He scoffed. “The fact that you think this is happening… It just goes to show—you call me a narcissist, but clearly, you are the narcissist! It takes one to know one!”

It takes one to know one? “Are you five?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

With a soft sigh, you turned the page. It was silent for several seconds and you weren’t sure if he was trying to build up to something or if he just had nothing else left to try. Whatever it was, you told yourself you were ready for it. How many years was it now? You couldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Are you only with me for sex?”

And you stood corrected. Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You clearly don’t care about my feelings—”

“Ransom, seriously, shut up. This is happening, okay? Your family is scared right now, you could try being human. This was their home for a time, of course, they want to be somewhere they feel comfort—”

“No, I’m putting my foot down.”

You rolled your eyes again. “You don’t have a foot to put down. This is my house, too.”

“Too,” he repeated firmly. “Too!”

“Ransom,” you snapped, getting to your feet and throwing the magazine on the table. “Stop acting like a child. They will be here tomorrow. I’m going to bed and if you wanted to join me, that would be great.”

He sat back down, a clear indication that that was not happening.

Things with Ransom, since the last argument, hadn’t been as tense as you thought they would be. Majorly, nothing really changed. Well, sex changed. You guys just weren’t doing that, which was major, because of the rate at which it had been occurring. But other than that, nothing changed. He wasn’t ignoring you, he wasn’t not touching you, there was very simple no sex. At all. But was that something you were okay with? Hell no. It was getting old and you were getting fucking tired of it.

“Fine, if you don’t, just know that I am keeping track.”

“Track?” he narrowed his eyes. “Of what?”

“How many nights I’ve slept without you and how many nights you’ve gone without fucking me.”

“After your last indiscretion, did you really expect anything else? Which you still haven’t apologized for, by the way.”

“Apologize?” you scoffed. “For keeping a fucking vibrator? What do you want me to say, Ransom? Sorry that I have yet to give you total control over my body?”

“That is exactly what I want to hear.”

Without another word, you simply rolled your eyes at him and stormed off to the room you had once upon a time shared with your boyfriend. Not that he officially moved out. In fact, he was still sleeping in there and kept his shit in there. But he was not falling asleep with you nor was he was present when you woke up.

You had no idea what he was doing in there and you were trying to be human, unlike Ransom. Everyone deserved privacy. Besides, he’d made you your sunroom and it afforded him a lot of forgiveness. It was this tiny extension of the house that had huge windows and was just small enough to fit your yoga mat, a couch, and about a billion plants. You read there a lot, you also escaped Ransom a few times. You could understand his desire for an office. But as frequently as he was using it? That was scary.

Admittedly, it was difficult to stay mad at him when you walked through the house that you’d almost now completely rebuilt together. The only exclusion being the office. It had been one of those Harlan rooms that you’d never actually been in prior because you were not family. Weeks ago, you watched Ransom remove everything, add new things, but you still hadn’t been inside. He didn’t so much tell you that it was his own personal room, but it was very clear in how he locked the door. Like, all the time.

You had already been prepping for bed, knowing that the discussion was going to be exhausting. You threw yourself straight into bed, not overly optimistic about the possibility that you were going to fall asleep.

Maybe it was the argument, the mention, the acknowledgment that you guys weren’t having sex. Did he even care? It didn’t seem like it. That caused concern for you. You’d always thought that you would be much older when the two of you would be having no sex. You wondered if things were changing, if your relationship was changing.

Officially, it was hopeless. You were not going to fall asleep. You were just about to get back up when you heard him walking up the stairs, you froze, held your breath, hoped that maybe he wanted to end this. Instead, he walked by the room and to the end of the hall, where said office was.

Fine, fuck him. You just had to get up and moving, there was no shortage of shit you had to prepare. Jacob, though terrible, was family, and a teenage boy. You were going to set him up in a smaller room on the bottom floor. Harlan usually had live-in staff stay in that room if they ever fell on hard times. You figured he would enjoy the privacy. Walt might even enjoy not sleeping in the same room as the next Ted Bundy.

Meg’s room was the most used since she stopped by on weekends sometimes when Ransom was gone for the day or stayed out late. They always met in the kitchen when morning came to argue and give you a headache, however.

She probably needed towels in the bathroom. She might even end up wanting different sheets. Jacob would need more sheets. Was there a color you should give him in the case that the little psycho killed someone, if you wanted to prevent stains? Joni’s room had been cleared out except for major furniture so you wanted to get that set before the morning. You had intended to set all of this up at some horribly early hour, but you were too annoyed to try sleeping. What better time than now?

Did you even have food? You would probably need to go to the store in the morning. You would make a careful list and ensure that no one would need to leave the house again because you were not going to let one of these rich idiots get you sick. Food, sheets because as you were walking through the linen closet, you discovered that you didn’t have really any sets of sheets. Then, you would need laundry detergent, fabric softener. Not all the rooms had pillows—

“What the hell are you doing?”

Ransom found you madly scribbling on a notepad in the center of Joni’s room. You didn’t bother to look at him when you answered, “Making a shopping list.”

“May I ask what for?”

“We have no sheets or pillows or food…or really anything, Ransom. Are we fucking vampires?”

He sighed as he made his way to you. “Okay, it’s time for bed.”

“Go away if you’re not going to be helpful.”

“No, get up now.” But he was met with nothing but silence. Instead of trying another round of verbal communication, he effortlessly grabbed your arms and picked you up.

“Ransom!”

He abruptly took your face in his hands. “They’re lucky they even get to be here. You’re not doing a single thing for these people.”

“Stop, okay? This is our house, we have to have these things—”

“No, you stop. Stop trying to do anything for them because no matter what, they’re going to complain.”

You glared. “Are you trying to help? Just go back to your stupid office and leave me be.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “It is time for bed. I’m taking you to the room—”

“I’m just going to sneak out as soon as you leave for your office, so don’t waste my time or yours—”

He abruptly threw you up over his shoulder.

“Ransom!” you shrieked in absolute panic, he had never done this. Dragged you kicking and screaming? Yes. Literally pulled you along the floor by your legs? Yes. This? No, not once.

He was quick to get to the room, worried about how exactly you would react, what you were willing to do to make him drop you. He tossed you down on the mattress.

“You’re such an ass! I have to—”

He silenced you by pulling off his T-shirt.

So, he interrupted you because he wanted to have sex? After he had been withholding it? You feigned an unbothered expression. “Ransom, fuck off.”

He scowled. “Why did I have to find you? Why did life bring you to me? Personally, the meaningless fucking was fine for me, a lot less trouble.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I like being with you?! You’re the worst person I’ve ever fucking met, possibly the worst person on this fucking planet!”

He rolled his eyes. “Get on your knees.”

“You are not serious.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re seriously fucking insane, but you’re not serious in that you actually think that’s going to happen!”

“Get. On. Your. Knees. You can do it on your own or I can do it for you.”

You weighed your options. You wanted to have sex with your boyfriend, you wanted to be close to him. However, if he left you after you sucked him off, you might end up killing him. But what could you do? Ransom was apparently in a mood.

Whatever theatrics that were going to occur tonight were already planned, you realized. If he was going to walk away, he was going to walk away. No amount of arguing or any other behavioral tactics were going to change that. You would hit him, you were sure of that, but at least you could get back to making your home presentable.

You reached back for a pillow and gave him a challenging look. He arched an eyebrow at you as you slowly jumped off the bed, laid your pillow at his feet and got to your knees.

“The fuck is this? You suddenly a princess?”

“I’ve always been a princess,” you declared. “One day, a wonderful man or woman, who’s going to give me an even bigger house, is going to know it.”

He glared. “What the fuck is your problem? Do I need to start paying you to keep your mouth shut?”

You snorted. “You have money?”

And that was, apparently, a line crossed for Ransom. Furiously, without another word, he yanked his pants open and shoved them down with his boxers.

Instead of staring at his cock in front of your face, you looked up at him.

He sighed. “Y/N, suck my cock.”

You shrugged. “Why?”

He took himself in one hand and grabbed your hair in the other. He brought your mouth to the head of his cock and waited patiently. You did nothing, simply kept your gaze on him. Rolling his eyes, he pulled at your hair.

You attempted to keep your lips clamped but he continued yanking until you opened your mouth to cry out. Then, without hesitation, he shoved his cock down your throat. You gagged instantly, hands snapping up to shove at his thighs. He wouldn’t budge, he kept you there no matter how hard you tried to push him away—which, admittedly, since you were so wet, wasn’t very hard—or how many times you gagged.

His free hand touched your cheek. “You’re fucking beautiful like this.”

He could fuck off—as soon as he was done coming, you would walk away. You didn’t even want to be fucked by him anymore. But sadly, you had missed the taste of him, the feel of his skin on your tongue.

When he finally pulled you off his cock, you gasped for air. Then, once again, he was thrusting back in. You were choking on him, eyes watering, throat burning, drooling, sniffling, hands begging to be let up again with how hard they gripped his thighs.

But Ransom only let you off when he wanted. The second time, he allowed you to try to catch your breath. Your head was spinning since you were not quite getting oxygen back fast enough. You were blinking away those tiny black spots appearing behind your eyes. He used one hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks and whatever was falling down your chin.

Then he was bringing you down once more. Holding you in place, he began fucking your mouth slowly, gently, two words that normally did not apply to Ransom. He took his time, he wanted you aching and craving him, and you really fucking were. You thought you wouldn’t feel a thing if he walked away after thing, but now, you knew you were going to set that office on fire if he tried it.

As he neared his end, he grew noisier. You liked that about Ransom, he didn’t hold back due to some insane fragile masculinity thing—no, that was often displayed in less conventional ways. He liked fucking you and he liked letting you know.

He picked up speed eventually, paying no mind to the sounds of you choking every time he thrust in a tad too hard. You didn’t even care, you knew you would be soaking wet, if you just reached down and felt…

He yanked you down when he was coming, buried deep in your throat, reveling in the feel of your throat moving around him, trying not to choke, trying to breathe. “Don’t make a mess, baby, swallow everything I’m giving you.”

You tried, really, you were not just playing your usual game of disobedience. But he really was choking you, so when you tried to swallow, things did not go according to plan. You gagged, nothing was swallowed. A mess you did create. On him, the floor, yourself, the pillow.

Ransom pulled you off and then grabbed your arm to haul you up. His hand still in your hair, he forced you to look up at him, bending your neck back almost uncomfortably. You were still struggling with lack of oxygen and just about fell into him completely, clearly being bratty was not on your mind.

He waited patiently, as if he wanted an explanation. No, you did not intend to do the opposite of what he had told you, but you weren’t about to let him know that. “Baby,” he cooed. His hand slid up from your arm to your neck where some of his cum was sliding down toward your chest. “What was what?”

“Out of practice, I guess. It’s been months since you’ve touched me.” Okay, it had just barely been two months yesterday, but if he could be dramatic, you were allowed as well.

He arched an eyebrow. “Considering you only need to say one word to me, I don’t think you really want it that bad.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

His expression fell. He had hoped you would desperately blurt out an apology, clearly. Without another word, he shoved you onto the bed.

You stared up at him, face composed. “Don’t you have an office to be in?”

“You seem very jealous of that office, baby.”

“Why would I be? I finally get to be away from you.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your shorts and panties. The way he ripped them off you was damn near violent. You both wanted something rough tonight. “Then why is your pussy wet?”

You shrugged. “Couldn’t be for you. I can’t remember the last time you made me come.”

He leaned over, slowly crawling his way up your body.

Without prompt, you reached between your bodies and pulled your shirt over your head, arching a little more than necessary.

He took your forearms and pinned them to the bed. “Tell me how bad you need me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I’m not joking,” you countered. “I. Don’t. Need. You.”

He took your jaw in one hand, forcing you to meet his stare. “Y/N, seriously.”

He really wasn’t joking, but again, neither were you. “Ransom, if you walk out before you fuck me, I will leave you. Do you understand me? I’ll fucking disappear, and you will never ever see me again.”

He smirked. “I understand.”

“I need you,” you breathed, free arm sliding around his shoulder, clinging tight. “I really fucking need you. I need you inside me. You know it’s been too long.”

Smiling like he just won the lottery, he rolled onto his side a little, turning your hips with him. “Yes,” he agreed. “Too long, baby, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t. You felt his tip at your entrance and you held your breath. He was a dick, yes, but you had been absolutely starving for his touch, his attention.

He pressed inside and it stung almost as bad as it had the first time. You turned your head away, hand pressed to your mouth to keep quiet. You hadn’t noticed your eyes were filled with tears until he touched your cheek and you blinked in surprise. You weren’t sure what you were crying about, the pain or the relief of finally feeling him.

You kept yourself turned from him, hoping he would just drop it. Of course, he wouldn’t. Of course, the one time you were willing to give Ransom a pass to be a complete ass, he wouldn’t want to take it.

“Sorry, baby girl,” he cooed. He had stopped, letting you adjust to him. However, Ransom didn’t have an ounce of patience and you knew his restraint was slipping. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it better.”

You also knew he wasn’t sorry. You squeezed your eyes shut until he was buried inside you. Feeling so full was something you had missed but feeling wanted was what you had been longing for. He could say the words, he could give you lingering looks when you were wearing a dress or a tight top, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t convince you like when he just grabbed you and used you to satisfy every sick desire he had.

He grabbed your face and forced you to turn back but your eyes were shut. Instead of trying to get you to look at him, he kissed you. His lips moved over yours until you were finally curling into him, his arm wrapped around your back and pinned you against him.

Intimate, close, slow, but so fucking hard, that was how he made you come the first time. There were no words, just grabbing each other, gasping into the kiss, biting one another’s lips, tongue and teeth, scratching nails, pulling hair. He watched your face as you were coming down, hips still snapping up, fingers brushing along your cheeks.

He rolled onto his back and brought you with him. You hissed at the ache of this new angle, using your knees to pull off just a little. He took your hands and set them to the headboard. The way he stared up at you, like he was worshiping every inch of you, it made your skin burn.

“Ride me,” he ordered.

Hands gripping the bed, your hips began to roll. Ransom stared the whole time, where his cock was disappearing inside you, your moving breasts, your gorgeous, soft body. He used one hand to pinch your nipples alternatively and the opposite hand to focus solely on your clit.

You were breathless, shaking, chasing after that climbing high. You let the headboard go in favor of grabbing his hands, dragging them up to circle around your neck. As he began to apply pressure, you continued bouncing on his cock, unashamedly screaming now that he was stifling the noise.

Watching your eyes fill with tears, hearing those strangled sounds tear from your throat, it was enough to get him there as soon as your cunt started to tighten. He was coming with you, squeezing your neck tighter, so tight you tried to pull his hands off you.

But it was futile, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He threw you down, rolling over so he was on top of you. You wrapped your legs around him, spreading your thighs and taking him in deeper.

He set one hand to the mattress to hold himself up but kept his other hand on your neck. He leaned over, forehead pressing to yours, breathing hotly against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Say what?” you choked out.

“You know.”

You always knew. He had only asked you for this one other time since you’d said it that first night. You stopped caring that he was probably never going to say it back. “I love you.”

His hips finally stilled. You weren’t sure what his response was going to be, but you knew what it wasn’t going to be. Yes, you’d stopped caring, but were you okay with it? You weren’t entirely convinced. But what were you going to do? Leave Ransom? That seemed highly unlikely.

So, you decided to speak before he could. “Even though you’re a fucking loser.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And I guess you’re hot enough to keep around even if that mouth annoys the hell out of me.”

That, you suspected, was as close as he was going to get to ever stating his feelings for you. “Are you going to let me get back to my list?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Not done yet.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Really? You lasted, like, three minutes—”

He gave you a sharp look. “Must be my age, I guess I’ll need a minute before I can go again. But you, baby girl,” he grabbed one of your hands and brought your fingers up to his lips.

You watched closely as he kissed every knuckle before he brought your hand down and pressed your first two fingers to your clit. You shuddered. “Ransom, wait—”

“Since you like getting yourself off so much, you’re going to—”

You sighed. “Ransom, please—”

“And I’m going to watch until I’m ready to fuck you again.”

You pouted up at him. “You said it was time for bed.”

“I changed my mind.” He pulled your legs from around him and sat back to watch you. He pulled one thigh further from the other and gave you an expectant look. “I wasn’t asking, baby.”

For what felt like the first time in years, you were woken up by your boyfriend with his hand between your legs. You were laying on his chest, he was kissing the top of your head, tracing patterns along your spine and just barely teasing your clit.

All he needed to know was that you were awake and then had you pinned underneath him before you could say a word. Last night was nice but now the sun was shining through the blinds and you could see all of him. The freckles on his skin, the fine lines around his mouth because he does actually smile even if he doesn’t want anyone to know. And all his muscles—ugh.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

You smiled. “I have to get up and start getting ready.”

“No, baby. The only thing you need to do is open your legs so your boyfriend can fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

“Oh, deserve?” you scoffed. “I always deserve to be fucked. What changed your mind?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

Few things did when it really came down to your relationship with Ransom. It was all one huge give-and-take and neither of you shied away from taking advantage of that lack of communication.

He kept you there for nearly half an hour, insisting that you give him just one more finish, but he’d done that nearly four times. The reason you were able to escape was that there was someone at the door. As Ransom when to see who it was, you ran for the shower.

You were surprised when he joined you. One of your favorite things in your entire relationship was taking showers with Ransom, but it rarely happened. Whether that be because you were always on a time limit when you were getting ready or because he woke up later than you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“I miss taking showers with you, you’re warm.”

He turned to kiss your cheek. “You going shopping?” he muttered against your skin.

“Yeah, we don’t have anything either. We’re out of your favorite cookies, you know.”

He hummed. “Okay, just be safe. Wear a mask and try not to touch anything you don’t have to. Put everything in the back of your car, I put hand sanitizer in there so use it before you touch anything inside.”

You scoffed as you looked back, eyebrow arching. “You sound scared.”

He shrugged. “Well, you know… I just don’t want you to get sick.”

You smiled a little.

“Because I don’t want to have to take care of you.”

“Ugh, Ransom!” You brought your hand up to flick his forehead, but he caught your wrist and used the opposite hand to turn you around.

His arm slid across the small of your back and he picked you up to walk you to the shower wall. He pinned you against it completely, the shower head was almost directly over the two of you. Instead of attempting to watch him, you closed your eyes and pulled him into a kiss by his hair. He angled his hips up and easily thrust inside you.

Your mouth dropped and you gasped, he used that as his chance to bite down on your lip. You were sore between your legs, but the ache was a reminder that Ransom had put aside his pettiness because he had wanted you so badly. You brought your leg up to hook around his hip and used that as your leverage as you began to roll your hips.

He shuddered and bit harder on your lip still trapped between his teeth. He only let it go so he could turn down and press his mouth to your shoulder. “Slow baby, fuck me slow.”

You did as he directed. You slid off his cock and then slid back down, using all the restraint you could muster because you couldn’t wait until his broke. You couldn’t wait for him to grab you and take charge.

His hand slid between the two of you and he began pressing down on your clit, just slightly.

“I could kill you, Ransom,” you blurted out. “You better not ever go so long without touching me again.”

He nodded. “I promise, I will not.”

If you had a question about his tone, it died when his hands finally grasped your hips. “Tell me what you want.”

“Hard,” you pleaded. “So hard, please. I want to feel you all day, I want it to hurt until you’re inside me again.”

And goodness, did he make it hurt. He fucked you until you could no longer stand, until you weren’t able to coherently tell him that you weren’t sure you would ever be able to on your own again.

He had to set you on the floor of the tub when he knew it was time to get out. You weren’t sure why, and if you had been in a better mindset, you would have remembered the importance of always asking Ransom questions about his actions. However, all you could do was stay still, a little dizzy, vibrating pleasantly all over.

It somehow felt like hours but only seconds that he left you alone. When he was standing you back up, you still didn’t have the good sense to ask what the hell he was doing, but you absolutely melted when he pulled you from the shower and wrapped you up in a warm towel. A towel that had clearly just come out of the dryer—this man, that he could be so perfect and just chose not to be, deserved to be in jail. Yeah, the murder thing was a strike against him, you guessed, but this? Unforgivable.

When you got back home, there were several cars that you had never seen. Somehow, despite not getting an inheritance, the Thrombeys still knew how to make money. Which just made the whole Harlan thing even more annoying. Why all the dramatics? Rich people didn’t get poor the same way poor people got poorer. It was merely a showing of greed.

But you could not dwell on things like that, otherwise, this whole thing was going to go bad much quicker than you had suspected. You also couldn’t be the one that made it go bad. You weren’t an actual Thrombey or a Drysdale—and never would be since you fell in love with the least committal one of them all. You, despite extending your home and kindness, needed to be a lot more behaved than Ransom.

As you were bringing in the groceries, you glanced at the cars. There were five in total and you shuddered to think Jacob was driving. He was about that age, of course, but still, yikes. Meg and Joni probably showed up separately, which meant Donna and Walt did as well. Okay, weird, but you long ago stopped trying to guess why these people did what they did.

You wrestled with the front door for a moment and the noise of it brought in Joni and Meg. The older woman was completely decked out in crystals, unsurprisingly, you had just read an about how crystal shops were doing particularly well at this time.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

“Thank you so much for letting us stay here,” Meg immediately responded, taking some of the bags from your hands.

Joni followed her daughter’s lead. “Yes, honey, let us help you.”

Okay, suspicious. These people rarely did a thing that would constitute as the simplest of work—save for Meg, of course. “Thanks, but Ransom really should be helping me.” You gently pressed the door back with your leg, not shutting it completely but trying to keep the cold at bay. “Ransom!”

“He’s in the kitchen,” Joni informed.

“Great, we can head that way.”

On the walk there, you found Donna and Walt were in what was now one of many family rooms. They greeted you a tad overenthusiastically—regardless, you couldn’t stop, you’d just deal with it later.

“You didn’t need to go shopping for us,” Donna said.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you assured. “We needed a few things, I thought I’d get it done all at once so you guys wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

As if given a cue, they all began to thank you again. Again, you would need to deal with this when your arms were less full and there weren’t about a million bags in the back of your car.

You led the way to the kitchen, Meg and Joni on your tail. “Was the trip over here easy enough?”

“So weird,” Joni claimed. “People are literally going insane. I went to my usual crystal shop before I got here…”

Typical. She proceeded to tell you about how she had an “altercation” with a woman for a tiger’s eye finished into the shape of her animal spirit guide—which you were forgetting at the moment, a swan or something.

You stopped trying to recall those past conversations in case she quizzed you about what your animal was—she had stressed the importance of finding it and you promised you would the next time you saw her—when you saw Richard and Linda sitting at your kitchen table. Ransom was at the counter, a glass of whiskey in hand.

You merely glanced at them before turning to him. There were no words at all for the rage you felt at that moment. Joni had stopped speaking and was working to get the bags she’d taken from you onto a flat surface so she could grab the rest.

“Y/N!” Richard greeted. “Thank you so much for letting us stay here.”

You lifted your eyebrows at Ransom.

“She obviously didn’t know, Richard,” Linda pointed out. “Because she’s been trying to steal my son away since the day that she met him.”

You turned to her. “Are you—?”

“No, no, no,” Joni interjected. “She didn’t mean that!” She set the last of the bags down and touched your shoulder. “She’s joking!” She turned to Linda. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course,” Linda claimed, unconvincingly with a smirk that you had come to recognize as smug. Not that you’d seen it much on her, but her son, on the other hand…

Speaking of Ransom, he looked beyond exhausted. Only, he wasn’t, he was just trying to convey that because it was clear that he didn’t intend to have this discussion with you. It never was a discussion, because, for some reason, he made all the excuses in the world for his mother and would obviously choose her over you.

Suddenly, in your mind, things all fell into place. Richard and Linda probably got here after all the others, the rest had been set to get there around noon. He’d kept you in bed to stop you from getting home before them because then you could keep them out of the house, you could have caused a huge scene. Now? It was clear that you were outvoted, the rest of the family probably would have thought of you as unreasonable if you kicked them out now.

Fine, it was all fine. You weren’t going to argue about this, not then. It would give Linda joy to see you have a complete meltdown. Ransom had already humiliated you enough by doing this completely behind your back, you weren’t going to give her anything else.

You turned to the counter to grab his keys. “Well, then you get to go back to the store.” You threw the keys at his chest, probably harder than you should have, and turned to head back out to your car.

It was silent until you exited the room, then Linda felt the need to voice her opinion no one asked for. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t marry her. She’s shopping for essential items the day company was planned to arrive?”

You turned right back around but Meg was there to usher you back outside. She knew you needed a moment of fresh air and a moment away from Linda. Meg was a rather sympathetic person, she understood completely where you were coming from. In her mind, you were right and Ransom was so wrong for what he did, and Linda was wrong as well. But she also told you, this was how this family went. Linda was at the top now that Harlan was gone. If you sincerely wanted to be with Ransom—and she was confused about that—you would have to suck it up.

That much you agreed with, to an extent. It was clear that you were never going to be able to fix these people completely, but you were trying to create boundaries. Linda could not hit your boyfriend, her son. But how was she going to learn that if Ransom didn’t give a damn? She wasn’t.

You were suddenly wishing you’d accepted the invitation from your parents to stay with them until this all settled down. You had been too scared, however, because of the distance that seemed to be growing with Ransom. Now, you just felt like an idiot.

He lied to you. He did this behind your back, and he used intimacy to distract you from his plans, and that was absolutely disgusting. You couldn’t get over that. You felt used, by the one person you’re supposed to be able to trust more than anyone else in the world.

“Meg, can we have a minute?”

You turned away as soon as you heard Ransom off to your side. If you had a minute with him, you would probably murder him.

“Um,” she started, shifting awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” you assured. “Can you start putting away the groceries, please?”

“Yes, I will do that,” she eagerly confirmed. Meg liked to feel helpful, she often felt guilty about her privilege and wanted to be anything but another typical Thrombey. It was refreshing given all the other extreme personalities you would have to be living with for a while.

“I bought enough sheets for every single bed in the house for the next ten years,” you informed. “Those are fine. We’ll just need more food, probably—”

Ransom reached out for your arm, but you jerked away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey—”

You finally turned to him. “I am not talking about this. You lied to me, you did this behind my back—”

“She’s my mom—”

“And I’m your girlfriend!” you hissed back. “And I am so fucking tired of this and you. Last night, you had sex with me to distract me so you could fucking sneak your parents in here. Who does that?!”

“That’s not why I had sex with you—”

“Really?” you demanded. No, you wouldn’t be having this talk, it wasn’t happening. Turning away, you sighed, “It doesn’t matter. I’m done talking to you about this, I’m serious. Do whatever the fuck you want, Ransom. That’s what you always do anyway. I’m done caring.”

“Look, we can’t be fighting with these people here—”

“You should have thought about that before you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie—”

“I’m having a really hard time right now not running you over with my car,” you asserted, “So I’m going to go back inside. I just need you to go to the store for me, okay? Please, can you do one thing, literally, Ransom, just one thing to help me feel, like, 10% less stressed about all of this?”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go to the store.”

“Great.” You started to pull out more bags from the car.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I don’t know yet.” Hell no, but you weren’t going to tell him that. With full arms, you stormed around him and back into the house.

Later, when he got home, he discovered that you had moved out of the bedroom. Yes, you had moved your shit to another room, locked it, and acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

April: the parents’ bedroom,

It was six in the morning, you had just failed at finishing your yoga routine due to your pounding headache. You’d thought a smoothie would make you feel much better, but see, that was with the condition that everyone else was still asleep.

Not the case.

Joni and Richard were currently in the middle of a debate about anti-maskers. Joni, surprisingly, given all her healing crystals shit, thought anti-maskers were idiots. Richard, on the other hand, believed this was a free country and people should have the right to choose anything and everything because “that’s America”.

You had a blender full of ingredients and when you finally got to turn it on, it was comparable to an orgasm. If only because you and Ransom were back to a no-touching arrangement. You could barely stand to look at him.

They seemed unbothered by the blender, their argument only getting louder. You went to the cabinet to grab some pills, anything that would make your head feel better. Could anything with these people? You weren’t overly optimistic about that prospect.

You took your place back at the blender, leaning down to fall into the pain of that instead of the politics conversation. They did this often. Last week, it was whether people should vote this November. Prior, it had been traveling bans, canceled events, whether unemployment should be giving people as much as they are. Linda and Walt interjected sometimes, even Meg because she couldn’t remain silent on a few occasions, but you, Ransom, and Jacob all but steered clear of it.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and stood up straight. You didn’t want anyone knowing you weren’t feeling well. Richard and Walt always acted like you were dying, Joni would start with her crystals and lectures about the importance of meditating.

Thankfully, it was just Ransom. He had been out, he was wearing a scarf, a heavy jacket, and his pale cheeks were flushed red. He nodded out of the room and you followed because silence seemed too tempting.

“What is it, Ransom?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I need a reason to speak to you?”

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your fingers to your temples. He wasn’t being serious right now, was he? He wanted to have a conversation right now? You felt on the verge of death.

He touched your shoulder again. “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache. Not a big deal.”

“Not trying to be an ass—”

You opened your eyes. “But you’re so good at it.”

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Ransom,” you sighed, shrugging his hand off.

He caught you before you could turn away. “Hey.”

“Ransom, please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk much either.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He shrugged. “You know I know how to make you feel better when you have a headache.”

You hummed. “Sex? Why? Are you trying to distract me again? Were you hoping I wouldn’t notice your inability to wake up at a reasonable hour for me, but how willing you seem to wake up at 5 in the morning to have coffee with your mommy?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he insisted. “And she heard me come downstairs.”

“Yes, great cover. So convincing.”

“I do not wake up to have coffee with her every morning. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He glared. “It’s because I hate sleeping without you.”

“You made me sleep without you—!”

“That was not what you think!”

You narrowed your eyes. “It wasn’t a temper tantrum over the vibrator?”

“No, okay, stop. We’re not going back, okay? No talk about the past, we need to talk about now. You’re the one that made me promise that I wouldn’t withhold sex—”

“I’m not withholding sex, Ransom, I just have no desire to be around you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Doubt that.”

“If you’re having issues sleeping, maybe you should ask your mommy to read you a bedtime story and—”

He pressed his hand over your mouth and started dragging you across the room.

Immediately, you started screaming at him. What the fuck? And you continued to do this until you realized he was leading you to Richard and Linda’s room. Eww, if you didn’t want to talk to him, you certainly didn’t want to talk to her.

But despite your struggling, he forced you into the room and slammed the door before you could escape.

“What the hell?” you demanded.

“This fight is over.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous because I care about you? I’m done, I can’t do this anymore. My parents want me to stay with them and I think I should—”

His eyes widened at you. “This is your god damn house—”

“You clearly don’t think so! I had one condition, just one fucking condition. I wanted her to apologize for trying to physically assault you and somehow that makes me the villain in this situation?”

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“You went behind my back, Ransom.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Wow, was that an actual apology? It didn’t matter. One apology a month later was too small. “Look, it’s too late, okay? I’m exhausted and I just want to go home—”

“This is your fucking home!”

“No, it’s your mother’s fucking home and it always will be if you let her do whatever the fuck she wants!”

“She apologized!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed.

He reached into his pants and yanked out his phone. Easily, he found one of the last texts that they had exchanged and turned it to you.

Don’t tell your psycho, fragile girlfriend but I am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way that I did. I understand that it was out of line, it will not happen again. Can we come over? You know I don’t want to be alone with your father.

It took three seconds to go from partially angry to very, absolutely, completely outraged. You smacked the phone out of his hand and it clattered to the hardwood floor. “I’m going to fucking kill you, Ransom!”

He threw his arms up. “For what?!”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me this earlier?!”

“She would have known that I told you.”

“And?!”

“And,” he began, “I…don’t really know what I thought would happen.”

You shoved at his chest and he didn’t even have the energy to step back simply to make you feel better. He didn’t move an inch because you shoving him was like a cat trying to push a lion. “You are such a fucking mommy’s boy! I’m done with this whole thing, I’m done with you!”

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am! You can’t make me stay here, you can’t make me—”

“You love me!”

Your eyes widened. He made you tell him you loved him, never said it back, and now he was using it against you? “You are dead! Do you understand me?! I’m going to run you over with your fucking Beemer! Then I’m going to get a new boyfriend and I’m going to let him fuck me in that stupid fucking car!”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and your hands flew back to scratch at his forearm. He shoved you back onto the bed and made the mistake of rolling over to attempt to get away from him. He grabbed both of your wrists and managed to get them into one of his hands, then yanked down your yoga pants.

“You are tearing them, you ass!”

And then he smacked your bare skin hard enough that it echoed, loud enough that you were sure anyone in the kitchen could have heard it. Your entire body burned with humiliation, but you loved the pain. How had you survived so long without him doing this?

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered.

“Are you seriously trying to fuck me in your parents’ room?” you snapped.

“No, I am going to fuck you in my parents’ room,” he corrected. “What? You’re not into this anymore? This wouldn’t be the first time.”

“They sleep here,” you reminded. “This is weird given your obsession with her.”

“I changed the sheets this morning.”

“Are you fucking serious? You’re her maid now?”

He smacked you again and you pressed your face down to muffle your scream. “No, I just always knew that I was going to fuck you here today.”

You waited until the pain subsided before you turned your face, Ransom was still working the yoga pants down, a task that seemed impossible with only one hand. “Where were you today?”

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“None of your business.”

“Yes, it is my business, you fucking dick! If you’re not going to let me go home—”

He spanked you again, harder now, it seemed like an angry action, not just a retaliating one. “You are home, this is your fucking home and if you suggest otherwise again, I fucking swear—”

“What?” you demanded. “You’re going to tattle to your mommy?”

“I should fucking strangle you,” he growled, and before you could say anything, his hand was at your pussy. He scoffed. “You are seriously this wet? You have so many fucking issues.”

“One issue,” you argued. “You.” But that was a lie and he was more than right. You could hear him moving his pants out of his way and you were nearly shaking with the need to feel him.

Abruptly, he shoved his cock inside you and you both moaned as you adjusted around him. It was loud, obscenely loud, there was no question about what you two were doing, and you honestly didn’t care anymore. Had he gotten bigger? No, that wasn’t possible. You were pretty sure it wasn’t.

You felt him moving to tear off his coat. “Don’t you dare throw that coat on this floor, Ransom.”

But he did and he did it so eagerly, like he wanted to irritate you. The floors were hardwood, Linda had her dogs in the home, and their fur got everywhere on Ransom’s clothes. He hated you, you hated it because he just threw things away—didn’t even donate them because he’s such a beast.

Next, you felt his scarf around your wrists and started struggling.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You’re lucky I’m not fucking gagging you.”

As his hips began rocking just slightly, he grabbed your jaw and turned your head back. His lips found yours immediately and while you two were sharing a sloppy, unskilled kiss, he began driving his hips into you as hard as he knew you needed him to.

His skin was slapping against yours noisily, the bed was creaking, moving on those extra hard thrusts. He spread your legs out as wide as he could and held them there, fingers digging painfully into your skin.

Things became very clear to Ransom at that moment. You were underneath him, completely at his mercy since you were bound now. You were pouting, pretending that you didn’t like this, and he wanted to fuck that disobedience out of you. He sat back up, holding your hips as he kept steadily moving in and out of you. “I’m going to fuck your ass.”

You blinked once, twice. “What?”

He never pulled out, but he did lean over and start yanking on the drawers of one of the bedside tables.

“What are you doing?” No, he wasn’t going to actually…fuck you there. He’d never done it, he’d never even asked about it even though you brought it up a few times. He’d located your plugs that one time, he knew you were into it. But nothing. Why now?

“I know he has to have something,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to think about your parents like that.”

“Oh, no, just think of my dad like that,” he joked.

You shook your head. “Eww.”

“Oh, eww?” he checked. “Since when? You realize you can never talk about fucking him again, right? Looks like you’re going to have to provoke me in other ways now.”

“I didn’t mean ‘eww’ like that,” you claimed, “I meant ‘eww’ that your mom isn’t fucking him, and I definitely should be, because he totally deserves it for being such a great husband and father, but sadly, I’m here with you instead.”

“You’re such a fucking brat and—got it.” Ransom rarely moved fast, preferring to act like the cocky ass that he was, making it clear that he had all the time in the world to do whatever the hell he wanted. Because you were never going to say no. But now, he was acting like he was in a race.

Your body tensed up as soon as you felt the sharp cold against your skin. Ransom took his fingers and spread the gel over your skin, you gasped when you felt one of his fingers teasing your hole.

He did this a few more times, just making sure that you were properly prepped before his first finger dipped inside you. He set his free hand to your back when you tensed. “Relax,” he ordered. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you assured. You’d done this in the past, liked it, but it had been a long time since.

He started pumping his finger in and out and you began to squirm. You were trying to stay still and quiet, trying to hide how good he was making you feel, but he knew. When you pressed your hips back, he added his second finger and you winced.

His fingers already had you feeling so full. That was what you loved most about being with Ransom, you felt almost incomplete whenever he wasn’t in you. Your body was made to take his, to mold to him completely.

“Here’s how this is gonna go, baby,” he began. “You’re going to start sleeping in our bedroom again. Because I am the only man on this planet who can touch you like this and you’re going to stop being such a brat and taking that for granted.”

You scoffed. You were taking him for granted? Of course, every day you didn’t wake up on your knees for him was probably ‘taking him for granted’.

“Yes?”

You nodded, cheek pressed to the mattress. You didn’t care about winning anymore, you needed to be fucked. You lifted your head to look back at him. “Yeah.”

He pushed his third finger as slowly as he could.

You kept your attention on him, watching as his fingers disappeared inside your ass. As he moved his fingers back and forth, he started to tilt his hips. You were hyperaware of everything, you knew where his cock and fingers were, the wall between your two entrances was thin enough that you could feel it all.

He always thought of you as an insatiable, greedy little thing but even he was surprised when you said you wanted more. You wanted his cock, not his fingers, and he figured you were ready for it because you were soaking his length and the sheets.

As he positioned himself over you again, he pulled his cock out of your pussy and you whimpered. He brought his cock up and spread the fingers inside your asshole to open you up for him. You had never experienced Ransom gentler than when he pressed just the tip of his cock into you. You observed in awe, mouth dropped, panting, desperate, soaking. You knew when you were going to feel him, but you were not prepared at all. His cock was bigger than any plug you had used and you were aching.

He groaned when his fingers were out and all that he could feel was you squeezing the hell out of him. “Fuck. Think you can get on your knees for me?”

You nodded but made no moves to do so. He did instead, lifting your hips, and then grabbing your upper arms to keep you there. You pressed your hips down, swallowing more of his cock, whining and moaning at the painful stretch of him.

“Fuck yourself,” he told you.

You were shuddering, body screaming at the uncomfortable angles you were moving. You pushed your hips up until you felt the head of his cock and settled back down until it felt like it was too much, over and over until he knew that your muscles weren’t capable of continuing.

“Almost there,” he promised, lips at your ear. “Almost taking all of my cock, baby.” He let his hands slide down a little, toward your elbows for leverage, and then he started thrusting. He was careful not to go too deep, listening to the sounds you made because words were not your strong point when he was inside you.

You leaned over a bit, unable to hold yourself up completely. You were hovering over the pillows, his hold on you tight enough that you weren’t worried about falling forward. You were practically choking on a scream when one of his hands moved around you to your clit, immediately feeling lightheaded.

You folded over more and Ransom released your arm to grab your hair. Since you weren’t strong enough to hold yourself up completely, he was yanking on the roots of your hair. Your thighs were quivering because you were using them as your only source of balance, and all of that distracted from the painful stretch of his cock driving into you more and more each time.

Your pleasure was slowly climbing. By the time you were coming, your pussy was dripping onto the sheets, you were sweating, shuddering, gasping for air that you couldn’t seem to get enough of.

And he was only halfway inside you. He shoved two fingers into your cunt and used his grip on your hair to shove your face down on the mattress. All his weight pressed down on you until you were flat on the bed, trapping his arm between you and the mattress.

He left you with some space to work, you rode out your high by fucking yourself on his cock and fingers. You were drowning in the sensations, overwhelmingly full of a man that you knew would eventually drive you crazy.

When your body fell limp, he released your hair and grabbed your hip, guiding you to another devastating orgasm. “You still doing okay, baby?”

For a moment, you could only respond with a moan. His thumb brushed over your clit and you gasped. “Daddy, please, please, please—!”

“You think you deserve it, baby?”

“Please make me come,” you begged.

He waited until you were finishing around his fingers and finally, shoved his cock in completely.

You buried your face in the bed, screaming, sobbing, crying his name. He brought his hand from your hip to your hair, petting and shushing you, and that was all you ever needed from Ransom.

He gave you only seconds before his hips were rolling, his fingers pumping in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit. He paid no mind to you, he simply used your body, no matter how much you were shuddering and shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

It was almost immediate that he pulled out after he finished and climbed off the bed to pull you with him. Your legs were shaking, but he held you tight to keep you up. He turned your back to him so he could watch his cum drip out of your ass.

When he turned you back to him, he gathered his cum from the inside of your thighs and ran his hand across your mouth. Fucked out, covered in him, you never looked more beautiful.

“This is your home,” he told you. “If you say it isn’t again, you won’t be able to walk for a very long time. Understood?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m convinced yet.”

Ransom tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing and went to the door just to lock it. Was it weird that you thought you might get something out of Linda pounding on the door while her son was absolutely pounding you?

May: the anniversary,

It was Linda and Richard’s anniversary and that meant that everyone living in the house had to celebrate because the Thrombeys were starting to face withdrawals from not receiving enough attention from others.

Joni and Walt had decided to cook dinner that night and it surprisingly did not end in disaster. There were some presents, the family was trying their hand at online shopping and as the days ticked by, more and more packages were showing up every day.

The night was ending with a game of charades, something you and Ransom elected not to take part in beyond watching. The first team was Meg, Walt, and Richard. The second team was Joni, Linda, and Donna, and Jacob was the referee. They needed one, every single game because they were oddly competitive and whenever things got too aggressive, they were given a card, from green to red. Red meant disqualification, you’d only seen it happen twice in all these years, but it was great when it did happen.

You couldn’t help but watch Richard and Linda. They’d been married for so long now, so you didn’t understand why Richard had had his affair when he did. She wasn’t overly young, she had no money, it just didn’t make much sense to you.

You were on Ransom’s lap in the chair in the corner of the room. He had been drinking all night, so you chose not to. You guys were a better team when you were coordinating like that. He was always weird about his parents, you figured that was why he’d been off all day.

“Do you think you could ever forgive someone if they cheated on you?” he asked.

You turned to him, eyebrow arched. “I would murder you.”

He scoffed. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Ransom.”

“If I were going to cheat on you, I would have already done it. I meant in a general sense.”

“I don’t think you love someone if you cheat on them,” you reasoned. “So, would I forgive? Maybe, I guess, whatever that even means. But would I stay? Hell no.”

“Right?”

“You talking about your parents?”

“It’s so weird, isn’t it? I mean, not really. Men are men and don’t they all eventually cheat?”

“You are playing with fire having this conversation with me.”

He scoffed. “I just don’t get it, why would she stay?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It seems like you all have your, like, comfortable environments. You don’t really want to leave them…at least she gave him that killer black eye.”

“Yeah,” he recalled with a small smile. “But…I don’t know, I don’t completely blame him, either.”

“Ransom,” you warned.

“No, I’m not saying it’s my mom’s fault, but…she doesn’t exactly love him either. Maybe he thought she used to.”

“Maybe she did.”

“Yeah, maybe…I don’t know, if you’re blackmailing someone essentially—”

“She’s not blackmailing him.”

“He has no money,” he insisted. “He’s terrified. She holds it over him constantly.”

“Ransom, right now, choose. Me or money?”

He turned to you. “No hesitation, I would choose you.”

You were almost surprised to hear that, you thought…you had always thought you were Ransom’s second love, honestly.

“What? Were you expecting something else?”

“I don’t know.” You didn’t want to make him think you thought so low of him. It was a pretty vile accusation.

“You do, that’s fine…because I do believe that if we didn’t have money, it would tear us apart.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” you argued.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You love your diamonds and this house. And I like spoiling the hell out of you… I know those are simple things, but to have to work for things? We couldn’t make it.”

“Well, he obviously wasn’t that scared, or he wouldn’t have cheated. That was my point. You’re acting like money is the most important thing, if it was, he wouldn’t have risked it.”

“True. I don’t know if I would be able to deal with it.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your cheek against his. “Ransom, baby, you’re jealous of inanimate objects and you once fucked me every day for a week and didn’t let me come because you thought I was talking to my ex.”

“It depends how it started, that’s all I’m saying. People aren’t perfect, you know.”

“I am,” you declared.

He scoffed. “You let me fuck you while you were dating that ex.”

“You coerced me,” you argued. “I was innocently in my own room and you just showed up—”

“So, you’re saying I seduced you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Can we go to bed? I don’t think there are going to be any fistfights tonight.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know you were looking forward to that.”

“A bit,” you admitted.

“I’ll tell you about the time my mom tackled Joni at my high school graduation.”

You gasped. “I love when you tell me stories.”

Ultimately, things had gone back to normal with you and Ransom. He was sleeping with you more nights than not, he was in his office much less, things seemed to be in a much better place.

June: the affair,

Until June rolled around.

Then all his office shit started up again, the late nights, the insane number of hours. You tried to be understanding, but then he was abandoning you at family dinners and there was the time some moron rear-ended you and you had to call Walt because Joni and Meg weren’t picking up their phones because it was five in the morning, and Ransom wasn’t either because Ransom wasn’t a reliable boyfriend.

He had been apologetic, and you were just relieved that it had been an overall easy situation, so you didn’t hold it against him. Not until you had to borrow his phone to call yours because you had once again misplaced it. You were, once upon a time, a very organized, together person. Then the Thrombeys moved into your home.

You saw dating apps. Dating apps! On his fucking phone. You had no idea how to react, so you just didn’t. You made the mistake of letting everything grow, everything just pile on top of one another until you were at your breaking point.

Linda liked to poke at you and normally, she couldn’t. Because normally, Ransom was around. Because Ransom knew how his mother was and he knew how you were, and he just didn’t want anyone to end up dead.

That changed one morning when you were making pancakes and she came in for her early morning coffee. She asked where Ransom was and that was really the start of it because she did know. She found it hilarious that Ransom had his own office and never let anyone else in. She hated that she wasn’t allowed in but was placated that you weren’t either.

But you told her where he was anyway because you were attempting to be civil. She pointed out how much time he was spending in his office and you pretended it was common, she then asserted that that was how Richard was behaving during his affair.

And honestly, why hadn’t you thought of it before? He had to be having an affair, you always heard him typing in his office. He was clearly on some website, probably some BDSM chatroom, and you were going to fucking kill him.

It all made sense now, last month when he’d asked you if you would forgive cheating. That was just Ransom being Ransom, he was trying to guess your reaction if you ever found out. Well, you hadn’t been exaggerating, you would kill him.

You stormed up to the office and started pounding on the door. The rest of the family was going to hear you, but they were smart enough to know they better just mind their own business in their rooms.

“Ransom!” you yelled after minutes of no answer. Again, you were met with silence and that was when your irritation became fury. “Ransom, I will kick this fucking door down! You know these doors are old and weak and I can do it!”

Long story short, the doors were stronger than you thought, and you could not do it. The low point of your life was probably having to crawl to Meg’s room and ask her to call their super-expensive home doctor because you had done something terrible to your foot.

Ransom showed up three hours later after you had been all wrapped up and the family was fawning over you. You were being forced to sit on the couch and they would not stop asking you if they could get things for you. You were already wearing three different crystals, Walt had made you hot chocolate, and Jacob was checking his horror movie collection for your favorites.

“What the hell happened?” Ransom demanded.

You glared at him. “Where were you?”

“I was out for a walk.”

“And you didn’t take your phone?” Richard pressed. “We were calling you non-stop.”

“I left it up in my office,” he informed, moving to your side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“She tried to kick down your office door,” Linda answered.

Ransom gave you an incredulous look. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” you retorted. You never argued in front of the family because you and Ransom were a team. Yes, you fought, but you never wanted to give the family insight on the cracks in your relationship because you knew they would exploit them.

“Enough,” Meg cut in. “No arguing, Dr. Fields told her to take it easy.”

“You had to call the doctor?” he questioned. “What did you do?”

“Fracture,” Linda informed, “Not that big of a deal. Please, continue arguing.”

Everyone else glared at her while you and Ransom glared at one another. It was then that Jacob reappeared with one of the Saw movies. Typically.

August: the book,

You had taken to sleeping in Meg’s room with her because Ransom was a demon, but he wouldn’t try to enter her room. Ever. So, you comfortably stashed yourself away there every night and stayed there most mornings until noon. She didn’t mind. You’d gotten her a tv in there, so you watched Netflix a lot.

You had yet to confront Ransom with your accusations because you were scared. This family was obscene, being part of it was insane, every single person here was terrible in their own right. But you liked talking to Meg, you liked gardening with Joni, you liked reading the newspaper with Walt in the mornings and talking about the crime section. Even Jacob wasn’t the worst company, he liked to watch Dateline with you.

Ransom was convinced that you were just mad at him because you fractured your toes and couldn’t do yoga for a while. You were fine with him believing that because then you would have to have the conversation.

It was an odd situation to be in. You were sure he hadn’t physically done anything, but you weren’t sure if that should make you feel better or worse. He was connecting with someone and after your conversation, it was clear that he also believed you couldn’t cheat on someone you love. Given that he’d never said he loved you, you were rightfully concerned.

Did he ever love you?

Did you just spend almost 7 years with someone who was never going to feel that way about you? Did you throw away all those opportunities with someone else? Did you stupidly choose Ransom over your family?

Did you let this happen?

You had said you couldn’t forgive it, but now you understood why Linda did. If you love someone, you just don’t want to lose them. You hope that they don’t betray you, but what about when they do? It’s not easy to just leave.

You still loved Ransom, you always would. You didn’t want to lose any of the relationships you formed with the family, but it was different with Ransom. You didn’t want to, obviously, but you also couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine a life without him, you couldn’t imagine moving on, you couldn’t imagine being with someone else.

What did that mean?

You weren’t sure about the long-term answer, but short-term, it meant that you were going to pretend. He wasn’t cheating, he didn’t have dating apps on his phone, he didn’t even have an office as far as you were concerned.

Nothing. Everything was perfect.

Until Jacob’s birthday. You weren’t aware of it before, but unsurprisingly, he was a fucking Leo. You made a mental note to investigate the astrology of certain serial killers Jacob reminded you of, but you would do that with Meg later.

You were helping Walt and Joni cook this time. Apparently, they were the only Thrombeys that knew how to cook and were pleased to have another addition to the small team. It wasn’t a particularly difficult meal, lasagna with garlic bread, but it was Jacob’s favorite.

The plans had been made the week prior, Ransom was going to do one thing for you. Just one, you asked for so little. He would pick up the cake at noon and hide it in the second kitchen. Hide because Jacob wasn’t aware this was happening. He didn’t like to be the center of attention and if he knew this was happening before it was actually happening, he would do anything he could to stop it.

But come 2 PM, three hours after the cake was set to be picked up, you received a call from the bakery. You had let them know that your boyfriend was going to pick it up and you left his name with them and everything, all Ransom needed to do was show up.

The woman on the phone informed you that that didn’t happen, and they were about to close because of pandemic hours. You promised you would be in before she needed to shut the doors and since you were comfortable with your window of time, this was done. Over. First, you were going to yell at Ransom.

You quietly made your way to his office and listened with your ear pressed to the door. You didn’t make a sound until you heard him typing, then you started banging on the door with both hands.

It was seconds later that he answered the door, a confused look on his face over your apparent urgency. He looked like he’d pulled an all-nighter and smelled like a lot of alcohol. “What?”

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

“What? What do you need?”

You tried to open the door, but he held it in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You were getting into that office because you were going to find out what he was doing, he was not going to continue to lie to you. You kicked his shin and when his leg buckled, you shoved your way in.

“Hey!” He hurriedly shut the door behind you. He did not want anyone else getting in.

It looked like a normal office. There was a full bookshelf of titles that you couldn’t read because your anger was blurring your vision, there was a desk, a laptop, chairs, a bar cart, not a thing out of the ordinary. What the fuck was he doing in here all day?

There was only one logical answer. You finally turned to him, hands on your hips. “Who is she, Ransom?”

“What?”

“I know you’ve been cheating on me and I’m not going to play this game with you! I just want to know who the fuck she is!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yes, I’m out of my fucking mind! I’ve been living with your psychotic family since March, dealing with their shit on top of yours, and you are now cheating on me! Please explain to me how anyone else wouldn’t also be out of their mind!”

“I’m not cheating on you!”

“Really?! Then what the fuck are you always doing up here?”

He paused at that.

The camel’s back broke. This was officially over. You turned around and rushed to his computer. He only took a second before he realized what you were doing and followed you there.

“I swear to everything above, if you are in some pathetic chatroom—”

He leaned over you just as you reached for the laptop and slammed it shut. “I’m not cheating on you!”

“Then let me see your fucking laptop!” You didn’t care that he had his hands planted on it, you still grabbed the opposite ends and tried to pull it out from under him. It wasn’t a logical plan since he was much stronger than you, but you weren’t necessarily operating on logic.

“You are crazy,” he asserted.

You moved your hands to the top edge of the laptop and threw your entire body back into Ransom. More than anything, it probably shocked him into moving back. Had you known that it was going to work, you probably would have been better about keeping your footing. Since that wasn’t the case, you both ended up on the floor and for a split second, the laptop was only in your hands.

You dove forward, just inches from the door.

Ransom rushed after you, grabbing your leg to pull you back down.

You knew he was going to get you under him, you wrapped your arms tight around the laptop and started screaming. Joni or Richard might feel inclined to call the police if they thought the two of you were honestly fighting.

Ransom slammed his hand down on your mouth as he crawled over you, knees pressed to your hips to keep you pinned there. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

You didn’t say a word and you didn’t let your hold on the laptop waver for even a second.

“If I move my hand, you better not scream again,” he warned.

Obviously, you were going to. As soon you could, you yelled, “Call the police, he’s going to kill—!”

Ransom covered your mouth again, eyes wide at you. “You have lost it!”

It was then that you realized you needed to do something. He had the upper hand, and he was going to get the laptop away from you if you did nothing. You started swiping at him with both elbows and knees, never catching anything, but making him nervous enough to back off a little.

Fuck it, he was done trying to be reasonable with you. He moved his hand again, but only to start fighting with you over the laptop again.

“Let it go!” you shrieked.

“You let it go!” he countered. “It’s mine!”

“Not anymore, cheater!”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you!”

“If you have some online BDSM girlfriend, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“What? What the hell goes through your mind!?”

“You’re constantly in here and you won’t let me in, and you never tell me what you’re doing, you never tell anyone else either—”

“Because I hate my family,” he reminded.

“And clearly, you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you, you’re being childish.”

“Tell me her name, Ransom, or so help me—”

“I’m not cheating!”

“I saw the dating apps on your god damn phone!”

“I am not cheating!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“I’m writing a book!” he hissed.

You froze. He was what?

He kept his voice quiet, “That’s where I was a couple months ago, the meeting that I told you was none of your business. I only had a few chapters, but I got a deal out of it—”

“Get off me.”

He blinked in surprise and then hurried to do so, helping you up, no longer interested in stealing away the laptop.

You held onto it because you weren’t yet sure if you were going to use it to cause severe bodily harm to him. He was writing a book and didn’t tell you? You didn’t know he was interested in writing at all. You didn’t know he could sit down and write more than one entire sentence. He was always moving around, throwing himself into mindless activities.

A book?

You were hurt. Getting a book deal was major and he didn’t tell you he was trying for it, but then he didn’t even tell you that he’d gotten it. He had this huge thing in his life that he kept separate from you and that hurt your feelings.

“That’s was the apps were,” he explained. “I was doing research. Honestly, I’ll let you see the profiles, they’re not even pictures of me. I haven’t spoken to anyone either, it’s just very basic—”

You held the laptop out to him.

He slowly took it back from you, preparing for any other extreme reaction you might have. What he wasn’t expecting was complete silence, he figured you must have been confused by this. It was rather sudden, even for him. “You going to say something?”

You debated for a long while. You wanted to ask why he was pushing you away. You wanted to ask if it was because he didn’t think you were supportive, if he just didn’t want you to know, then you wanted to know why that was. What had you ever done that made him think he couldn’t tell you about this?

“I have to go get Jacob’s cake.”

“Shit!” He ran his hand down his face. “I completely forgot—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Then you were rushing out, ignoring the curious looks from the family on the way.

October: Ransom’s birthday,

It had been seven weeks since you found out about the book and seven weeks since you last had an actual conversation with Ransom. That was your doing purely, and he made the attempts, but you ignored them.

Linda was thrilled. This was different than when you and Ransom were fighting, because fighting indicated that you had the desire to win, he had the desire to win, but then that meant a resolution would follow. If you were ignoring him, what did you want? She hoped it was the end of the road for the two of you.

You weren’t sure. About anything. But you just had to go day by day and listen to yourself. Up to now, you weren’t sure what you wanted to do. As time went on and you were left to wallow in your hurt feelings, you were wondering if maybe this was the end.

Seven years and he didn’t tell you he was writing a book? That was insane, that was inexcusable. You didn’t get to have any part of your life not completely exposed to Ransom and you were okay with that. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same.

Seven years, a nearly dead modeling career, no skills, no aim in life. You had no idea how you would start all over. You had no idea how you would live your life without being Ransom’s girlfriend. It was practically a title, like the queen, and you loved it. You loved him.

But he didn’t tell you about the book! How could you get over that? Well, you could talk to him, but you were not going to do that. You just weren’t ready because you would want to know why and all the answers that were playing out in your mind were not going to make you feel better.

It didn’t matter, or more correctly, it couldn’t matter. Ransom’s birthday was coming up and Linda was trying to fight you on everything.

It was October, the worst of the pandemic was over, wasn’t it? No, you didn’t think so and anyone with two solid IQ points wouldn’t either. She wanted some family over, some of his friends—Megan, you had heard her mention to Richard. You didn’t want a single person in your house, no one outside of the family.

She suggested going to a restaurant then, but you knew Ransom hated when they threw him parties like that.

She wanted him to have a red velvet cake and you knew that Ransom hated red velvet. He preferred lemon, but he told you that you were never allowed to get him a lemon cake because he would eat it all. He was fine with chocolate, didn’t hate it, didn’t love it.

If you weren’t going out, then she wanted catering from his favorite restaurant, and a minimum of 30 people over, the house was big enough for it. It wasn’t even his favorite restaurant, the one she wouldn’t stop talking about, you knew for a fact Ransom did not like 30 people, and the house was not big enough for it.

On top of all of that, she kept asking you what you were going to get him. She just didn’t want to get the same thing. Why would that happen? Why would she get him the same thing as you? You had no idea, but she insisted on knowing. Problem was, you didn’t have an answer to give her. You had no idea what you were going to get Ransom.

Three days before his birthday, Ransom found you on the floor of the kitchen with an icepack pressed to your forehead. It was three in the morning, you had most of the lights off, only your phone and laptop providing light. Even in the dim kitchen, he could tell that you had been crying, eyes puffy and red, tear tracks down your cheeks.

He had been in his office, more writing. He’d only come down for a glass of water, sure that no one else would be awake at such an odd hour. This was the first time in a long time that he had seen you alone, and this naked. Usually, you were surrounded by the family, Joni being the greatest culprit. And since you still weren’t sleeping in the bedroom, he hadn’t seen you in your tiny shorts and bralettes.

He sat down at your side, setting his hand on your thigh. “Hey, is everything okay?”

You tossed the icepack onto the floor. “I never got stress headaches before your family moved in.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

It was silent for several moments after that, you were thinking about how you wanted to approach this topic. It was clear now, in your mind, why he hadn’t told you about the book. “I never listen to you.”

He turned to you, eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

You were already crying again, tears rolling down your face. You had felt terrible these past few weeks and you were finally beginning to understand why. “I don’t listen, I’m a terrible listener.”

“No,” he protested. “You’re not a terrible listener—”

“I have no idea what to get you for your birthday. I never know, I never get you a good present.”

“Yes, you do,” he argued. “And you don’t need to get me anything—”

“Of course, I do!” you blurted out. Was he insane? This was his birthday, you couldn’t not get him something for his birthday. “This is why you didn’t tell me about the book, right?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Because I don’t listen,” you explained. “Why would you tell me about it if I wasn’t even going to listen, right?”

“Baby,” he sighed, “That’s not why I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, honestly—”

“You didn’t tell me you were writing, you didn’t tell me you were trying to get published, and then you didn’t tell me about the book deal.”

“I know…I was going to.”

“But?” you prompted. “How could you not tell me about any of it?”

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

“Because of fucking Harlan. He’s the world’s best mystery author, for whatever fucking reason. I was worried that you wouldn’t think I should do this. I was worried about how it would look. I don’t want to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps like the rest of my pathetic family.”

“So, were you just never going to say anything about it?”

“Well…maybe. There’s something else… I wasn’t sure I was going to use my name, so it was completely possible that I could keep you from ever finding out about them. And if you ever got suspicious, maybe publish a few of the others under my real name.”

“Others? What are you talking about?”

“So…my book deal is for, at the very least, three books. In a series. If they do well, I can do others, with the possibility of keeping this series going…whenever I feel inspired to do so.”

“Okay…what’s the series about?”

“A woman.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“A very mean woman,” he clarified. “She’s a black widow, you know, marries rich men, murders them, takes the money…and I’ve sort of been using your name.”

Your eyebrows slowly rose. “You’ve been writing about me?”

“No,” he immediately protested, then sighed. “Okay, a little, but she’s beautiful. I mention that a lot, I promise.”

Yes, you were relieved. But was he completely off the hook? You slapped his shoulder. “Are you serious?”

“Hey,” he held his hand to the skin that you had just smacked. “Ow, maybe don’t hit me just days away from my birthday if you didn’t get me anything.”

“God, Ransom, I was really hurt.”

“I’m sorry about that. Really, I know I rarely ever apologize and sometimes, I don’t mean it, but I mean it now.”

“Well, can I read some of it?”

He smirked. “I don’t know, baby girl, you haven’t been behaving lately. You tried to break into my office, hurt yourself, and then did break into my office to steal my laptop. You thought I was cheating on you.”

“I saw dating apps, Ransom.”

“After we talked about my parents—”

“You lock yourself in your office for, like, 20 hours at a time—”

“And some BDSM chatroom? Because you’re normal in bed?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating, but you should have told me about the book. Which you apologized for, so it just cancels out. Let’s do what we usually do and just pretend it never happened.”

“You told Joni to call the cops,” he reminded.

You shrugged. “I miss Wagner, he probably would have been over here immediately.”

He snorted. “Okay, we both made mistakes, but you’re right.”

With his agreement to move on, you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please?”

“I’m not completely convinced yet,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you kissed him. “Now?”

“You’re getting closer.”

You scoffed and kissed him again, reaching into his sweatpants to pull out his cock. It didn’t take long to get him hard and as soon as you did, you used your other hand to pull your shorts aside. You broke away from the kiss to watch his face as you slowly slid down his length.

His hands gripped your hips and he nodded. “Yeah, you can have whatever you want.”

You smiled. “Perfect, let’s get it now.”

He snorted. “Wow, now you’re a fucking comedian?”

“Well, you’re an author,” you retorted.

He nodded once. “You have a point. I vaguely remember what I wrote, want me to tell you?”

You nodded. You wanted to hear it in his voice, you were going to demand that he read it to you anyway.

“Her first husband was a writer,” he informed.

You lifted your eyebrows. Was that supposed to be clever?

“He often wrote poetry about how devastatingly beautiful he found her.”

You rolled your eyes a little, turning down to stare at his chest. He was wearing a shirt, but you could still see the muscles through the white material. “How did she kill him?”

“Scared him to death, she is very scary.”

You bit your cheek to prevent a smile.

“His fault, though. He was never healthy, did a few drugs he shouldn’t have. Drank too much, never ate right. He had a weak heart anyway.”

You hummed.

He wrapped his arm around your back and rolled you over onto the floor underneath him. He pulled your thighs apart before placing both hands on the floor for balance. Slowly, he pulled out and drove back in hard.

You gasped his name, arms winding tightly around his torso.

“He loves her skin,” he asserted.

You nodded encouragingly, you wanted him to tell you everything. “Mhm.”

“Loves how soft she is, especially her thighs, and he loves how she bruises.” He was steadily rocking his hips, speaking just loud enough that you could hear him over the wet noises of his cock sliding in and out of your body, but quiet enough that you were sure no one else would hear.

You reminded yourself you were downstairs, on the kitchen floor, it was important to remain quiet. Ransom’s family had caught you in a lot of low moments over the years, but this would take the cake. You turned your head, burying your face in the bend of his neck.

“He loves her neck, how perfectly it fits in his hands. He loves her lips, how they look wrapped around him, or when she’s smiling—”

“You wrote that?” you breathed.

“This isn’t some school-book-report shit like what Harlan was publishing.”

“Those weren’t children’s books,” you felt inclined to point out.

“Well, mine have sex.”

You snorted. “You’re going to write about other men fucking me?”

“A woman here and there,” he explained. “That’s why they have to die such horrible deaths.”

You laughed briefly, pressing your mouth to his shoulder when you worried you would moan.

“He loves her legs, how tightly they wrap around him.” As he spoke, he lifted your legs one at a time, pressing them to the sides of his body as a cue to hook your ankles together. “He loves her arms, how easily he can pin them above her head.” Again, he did just that and you were forced to lay flat on the floor, clamping your mouth shut to stifle the noises spilling out.

After managing to get both wrists in one hand, he placed his opposite forearm off to your side and set all his weight there. You could feel it in the way he got heavier against your hips, trapping you between him and the floor, controlling every aspect of how he was going to make you come.

He stared down at your face for a moment, watching you struggle to keep your composure as he was fucking into you harder now. He leaned down and your eyes fell shut, he kissed over both eyelids and said, “He loves her eyes, even when she’s looking up at him, demanding something, a new diamond necklace, a car, but won’t actually say the words because she’s so fucking spoiled.”

You smirked and he felt it, and his hips snapped up harshly to get it to stop. It only worked for a moment. You were smug, Ransom was pouring his heart out to you and confessed that he liked that you were spoiled? You would never let him live this down.

“He loves her cheeks,” he started kissing across your face and you couldn’t help but smile, “Especially when she’s doing that.” He stopped to pay special attention to your nose, “And he loves her nose, even though she hates it. And he loves when she pouts,” he lowered his mouth to give you several chaste pecks, until you were pouting because he wouldn’t just kiss you.

With a scoff, he finally let you kiss him back. It didn’t last long before he was on the move again, pressing his lips to your chin and proclaiming the fictional character’s love of that, then your jaw, your clavicle, and once he tore your bralette out of the way, your breasts.

As he continued to move down, he was sliding his cock out by the inch and you were trying to stop him from getting too far, you were desperately pulling at him with your legs, but Ransom was much stronger than you.

“He loves her stomach,” he muttered into your skin as he descended and finally, his cock slipped out. Because of that, he had to let your wrists go but you knew better than to try to move them.

“Ransom, please—”

“And he loves her hips.” As he pulled down your shorts, he kissed the skin he exposed, almost frantically alternating between left and right. Once the shorts were down, he spread your thighs and looked up at you. “And he fucking loves her pussy.”

You let out a strangled, high-pitched sound as he dove down and wrapped his lips around your clit. He stared at you the entire time as he sucked for a few seconds, then flicked his tongue back and forth, only to repeat the pattern until you were crying and squirming, staying in the position he had placed you in.

When he knew you were close, he pulled back. He only set small kisses to your aching center, hands moving up and down your hips, your stomach, your thighs. “He loves how sweet it tastes, he loves how fucking tight it is, how it feels like his cock was made to be inside it—”

“Ransom, please,” you blurted out. Your arms were stinging with the desire to reach down for him, but you knew that would change the path of this entire night. You just needed to be fucked. Simply. Intimately. None of the elaborate shit you both usually tried.

In seconds, he had made his way over you and was inside you again. You wrapped yourself around him, arms and legs, and held onto him tight enough that you were sure he wouldn’t be able to get away again.

“He loves every fucking inch of her,” he stated. “Because she’s his, she belongs to him and she’s never going to belong to anyone else.”

You scoffed. “But she kills him?”

“Well, she’s a complex woman.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not complex.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“I just want you and this house, and I want all of this shit to be over so we can get rid of your family.”

He kissed you shortly. “That makes two of us, baby.”

There was a difference between loving something about someone and truly being in love with someone. You’d always loved things about Ransom, but it took you about a solid year to confidently admit that you were in love with him. He could say that he loved everything about you, but that was not him finally saying it.

“Does she love him?” you wondered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “He thinks so.”

“Does he love her?” This wasn’t asking for too much. Ransom could hide behind this fictional creation of his and say yes, and you would never ask again. You just wanted to hear it once, that wasn’t unfair.

He considered his answer for a long time, breaking eye contact to look down at where his fingers were hovering over your shoulder. He began to trace shapes there, still contemplating. “Sometimes…she thinks so.”

“But does he?” you pressed.

Again, more silence. He was trying to gauge what he could get away with. He always knew this was going to wear on you eventually, but he never thought it was going to be during one of the times he was inside you. How could you not feel how he felt about you? “I think—”

“Are you fucking serious!?”

You immediately knew whose voice that was—Linda. Shutting your eyes, you let your head rest back on the floor. The headache you had been crying over earlier was returning.

“RICHARD!” She turned out of the kitchen and began storming back to her room. “Richard, wake up! You need to talk to your son! Is there no place in this house anymore that is sacred?!”

Ransom sighed deeply and you looked up at him. “Well, do you want to make you come first before we go upstairs?”

You shrugged. “Okay. Hurry up, we don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

November: thanksgiving,

Ransom was on his best behavior, you theorized that was because he didn’t want you to again ask him for more of that insane basic human emotion. Whatever, you could not dwell. There were people dying in this world, and you wanted to waste time crying over your boyfriend who gave you everything you wanted, but just wouldn’t say a certain word to you?

Well, the answer was yes, but it was Thanksgiving and the Thrombeys had about a million and one weird-ass family traditions. That meant you were short on time to be pouting.

It was a freezing, perfect day. It had snowed all night and the house looked like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Yes, this was going to be a complicated day with a lot of personalities that were butting heads because everyone had been together for way too long, but you were feeling festive. You wanted to make the best of the day and you planned to force the rest of the family to follow your lead.

The start of the traditions was donating money. You were the one who brought it up as soon as Richard tried to skip down the list. It always started with donating. Harlan would write checks for half a million dollars and let every member choose where they wanted to donate, the past three years you were included in that. Harlan always liked you, probably more than he liked some of his actual family.

“I’m just not sure,” Donna was saying, “We haven’t made much money this year.”

“Are you kidding?” Meg demanded. “Your husband’s publishing company is still seeing sale increases.”

“Because of the death of the author,” Linda pointed out. “Meaning, we should be a lot more frugal. The money will not be coming in the same way that it was.”

“This is not up for debate,” you snapped. “Everyone pick a god damn charity. Harlan insisted on this every single year, and we are going to continue it. Unless you all would like to provoke his ghost to come murder us. He died in this house after all!”

“It’s money,” Ransom pointed out. “We have more than enough, some people don’t have any.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “My son is just trying to get you to have sex with him.”

You glared.

“Mother,” Ransom sighed. “This isn’t a discussion. Just pick your damn charity.”

“Donna, it’s fine,” Walt promised. “Meg’s right, we’ve had a great year. And Y/N is right, Dad always wanted us to do this. I will start with my usual charity, Homes for Our Troops.”

“Fantastic.” You took the check as soon as he handed it over. “Donna?”

“American Cancer Society, of course.” She held it out for you and then looked to Jacob. “I think this year—”

“I have a charity picked,” Jacob informed.

Everyone fell silent. Likely, everyone’s immediate suspicion was Trump’s request for donations since he was still insisting the election was fraudulent. However, no one said anything because no one wanted to be the first victim of Jacob’s impending murder spree.

“Can’t I pick my own?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you answered. “You can, because everyone can pick their own charity.”

“Yeah,” Walt echoed. “Of course.”

He wrote the name down and slid the check across the table to you.

Ransom’s hand tightened on your thigh, a reminder not to let anyone antagonize you this holiday.

“Canines for Disabled Kids,” you read. “Jacob, that’s really great…I didn’t even know that was a charity.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I like the idea that they can have dogs as friends and don’t have to make human friends. Humans are so stupid.” Then he returned all his attention to his phone.

“And we’re back,” Richard muttered.

Donna’s head snapped in his direction.

“Okay,” you interjected. “Joni?”

She chose a foundation interested in ending childhood obesity, received a snide comment from Meg about how even her acts of kindness were vain, and you intervened before it became bigger than that. Meg chose an organization that works to stop childhood prostitution, Linda went for homeless youth, and Richard selected Make-A-Wish Foundation. Walt felt the need to sarcastically commend him for his originality.

“Enough,” you said before Richard could respond. “My dearest Ransom, what have you chosen?”

He smiled at you. “Animal Legal Defense Fund. Their tagline is: all our clients are innocent.”

You nodded. “They are. All animals are innocent.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Can we move on?”

“Okay, mine is—”

“I can’t believe you don’t have a problem that she’s basically brainwashing our son,” Linda interrupted, turning to Richard.

“Linda, please,” Richard sighed.

“My charity,” you spoke loudly, gaining their attention once more, “Is Planned Parenthood.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she demanded. “You want to donate your money to abortions?”

You glared. “That’s not all Planned Parenthood does, but…yes, I do. Babies suck, if a woman doesn’t want to have it, she doesn’t have to.”

Joni nodded. “I agree, completely. I’ve been learning in my group about how we are only placed on this earth to offer up our vibrations to one another. Our obligations do not exceed that. We don’t have to be anything! Not a mother, not a wife—”

“Oh, shut up!” Linda barked.

“Mother, calm down,” Ransom dismissed. “I don’t believe for a second any of you have not either had an abortion or been an accessory to one in the past.”

“I would never!” she gasped, pointing a finger at him. “And you better not ever let her!”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that happening. I’ve been thinking about eliminating that possibility, surgically—”

Linda’s mouth dropped.

This was, of course, untrue. Ransom would, first, never sacrifice any part of himself for that reason. Second, the matter had not been discussed yet. You guys weren’t even thinking about marriage, so of course, children weren’t being brought up. But that morning, Ransom woke up in the mood for chaos, and maybe you sort of did, too.

“I wanted a second child,” she told Richard, “You said to stop after Ransom because he was “perfect”.”

“I did say that,” he muttered to himself, a look of pure regret on his face.

You smiled at Ransom. “You are perfect.”

He kissed you, gaining disapproving noises from most of the table.

“I will never be a grandmother!” Linda yelled, burying her hands in her hair and resting her shoulders on the table.

You glanced at Ransom.

He nodded toward the kitchen. “Now that that’s done, let’s start cooking.”

Joni and Meg were currently searching the entire house for the Christmas decorations. They always ended up getting put in the strangest places and since you and Ransom had moved in and not known where they were, you moved basically everything. It was possible that you were going to have to make do with the decorations you and Ransom had been using for the past five years at his house.

You had, however, purchased a lot of lights because the Thrombeys loved their blue lights. Tacky, you wanted the yellow lights and made sure to buy enough that even a single blue light needed to be on that house. Ransom was excitedly awaiting his mother’s reaction to that.

Every year, Richard and Walt would put lights on the house while the dinner was cooking. Ransom should have helped but no one actually thought Ransom would lift a finger, so no one wasted their breath. He was only helping you cook because, as mentioned, he was pretending to be a good boyfriend.

But he was a monster, a true monster that was currently squashing even more of your dreams. “The answer isn’t just no, it’s fuck no.”

You glared. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

“You asked if it was a good idea.”

“I think it is.”

“Then why did you ask me at all?”

“Because I thought you would be nice for a second, just a second, Ransom. I’m not asking for a lot.”

“We are not getting Jacob a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate dogs.”

“Well, I hate you,” you hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “Enough of the dramatics. This day is tiring enough already—”

“We’ll get him a small one, it doesn’t need to be those huge horses your mother calls dogs. A chihuahua, maybe. A Pomeranian, a dachshund—”

“Absolutely not, we already have Joni here, I don’t want some yappy animal—”

“Ransom!” you whined. “If we get him a dog, he might not become a serial killer.”

“He already is a serial killer, love, these are just the early years when he’s finding himself. The answer is still no.”

“Ugh, fine, can you just make the pie crusts, please?”

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three? For what?”

“Pumpkin, apple, pecan, Ransom. The same things your family has served every single year I’ve been here, and presumably, all the ones before that.”

“Ugh.” He stood at the counter reading the recipe, muttering his disapproval, up until he saw the ingredients on the counter. “What is all of this?”

“Um, you know that recipe in your hand? The final product doesn’t just appear.”

“No, what is all of this…gluten-free flour, oat flour? Where’s the normal flour?”

“That is normal flour, Ransom.”

“No,” he argued. “No, it’s not.”

“It’s normal to some people,” you countered. “And this year, it’s normal to us. Joni went out and bought the groceries. If you wanted something, you could have done it yourself.”

“You wouldn’t let me leave the house! You kept saying I was going to get sick and die.”

“You could have ordered them!”

“You can’t be serious. On top of this dreadful year, you’re trying to make us eat healthy food on Thanksgiving?”

“Ransom, make the pie crusts!”

It was silent for several minutes, probably because you were using the mixer to make the pumpkin filling. As soon as it was off, Ransom was acting like you’d asked him to perform surgery.

“What does toss mean?”

“What?”

“It says to toss the ingredients.”

“Um, like, stir, I guess.”

“You guess or you know?”

“Just fucking stir, Ransom. I make pies all the time.”

He huffed. “No, oh, no. No, this is telling me to touch things with my hands, that’s disgusting and I’m not doing that.”

You turned back, eyes wide. “Ransom!”

“I’m not touching butter with my hands!”

“What is wrong with you!? It’s cooking, you have to use your hands to cook!”

“I don’t like touching butter!”

“How would you know? You’ve never cooked a day in your life!”

“I’m not touching it,” he claimed.

You took a slow breath in and released it while counting to ten. “Then switch with me and make the apple pie filling.”

“Great.” He walked to your counter as you walked to his. “What is this? What’s in this bowl?”

“The pumpkin pie filling. Cover it and put it in the refrigerator. That’s where the apples are.”

His next question came after he pulled out the bag of apples. “These?”

You turned back, blinking. “Yes, Ransom, those are apples.”

“I have to cut them?”

“And peel them.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“Ransom, I’m about to smack you.”

“This is a lot!” he pointed out. “Why are we the only people cooking?”

“We’re not, not anymore,” you decided. “Get out, you can go help your father and Walt with the Christmas lights.”

“And you’re going to cook alone?”

“I basically already am.” You turned around to walk to the sink to wash your hands. Unlike Ransom, you weren’t making one pie crust at a time, and you would only need to do this once. When you turned around, you knew Ransom was behind you, but you had no idea what he was doing.

You only saw how close he was when you felt something wet and cold against the side of your face. Whatever it was, he dragged it all the way to the opposite cheek. You smelled and tasted the frosting that you had made for the sugar cookies.

He peeled the frosted star-shaped cookie off your skin and ate one of the corners. “Your blood-sugar seemed low, I thought I’d help.”

You tore the cookie out of his hand and shoved it directly in his face.

He scattered back, eyes wide in shock—as if he expected anything less? “What is wrong with you?!”

You grabbed the retractable faucet from the sink and turned the water on.

“Do not!”

It was a warning you ignored. Within seconds, he was slipping along the kitchen floor, rushing back to you to get the faucet out of your hands. As soon as he had it, he turned it on you, and you screamed like a cat about to be thrown in a bathtub.

“Stop it!” you ordered. “You are ruining Thanksgiving!”

“You’re ruining it!”

You elbowed him hard enough that he dropped the faucet, then kicked your heels off to run to the counter with the cookies and frosting.

“Don’t you dare!” He rushed after you and wrestled the cookie out of your hand, ultimately crushing it into crumbs that scattered all over the counter and the floor.

You shoved your opposite hand into one of the bowls of frosting, whipping around to place your hand on his face.

“What the fuck?!” But he leaned down, clearly uninterested in an answer, and pressed his face into your hair.

“My hair?!” you shrieked. “I’m going to kill you!”

There were several sets of steps that you both heard, but neither of you wanted to let the other get the upper hand. When the family finally found you, you had slipped, ended up on your ass, and Ransom was holding you down, claiming that you caused too many problems when you were on your feet.

“What the hell is going on?!” Joni questioned.

“Ransom, get off of her!” Meg pushed her way between the two of you, pulling you onto your feet. “Oh, my god, what is going on? Are you okay?”

Well, you were both soaking wet, layered in frosting, furiously trying to get another cookie to throw at the other. Were you okay? Only physically. Mentally, you weren’t sure either one of you was ever on solid ground there.

“Enough!” Linda yelled. “What is this insanity!? We need to be eating in less than an hour and as per usual, you two can’t go five minutes without fighting! That’s it, everyone get out of this kitchen! This is why I cook, this is why I do everything! I’m the only one that can!”

She turned away to open the door to usher everyone out and you took your chance to get some type of retaliation that you had been longing for since before the damn stay-at-home order.

You were able to reach for a cookie before either Meg or Ransom could stop you, and no one had ever dreamed your target would be Linda, so for a detrimental moment, their reactions were nonexistent. Essentially, everyone could only stare in pure horror as they realized the cookie was darting straight for the back of Linda’s head. Which, in your defense, wasn’t your exact intention. You thought her back, not her head…but well, there was a reason you weren’t a professional athlete.

Gasps filled the room as soon as the cookie contacted Linda’s head, then again when it fell to the floor. Linda slowly turned, eyes wide, jaw set, shoulders tense—that must be where Ransom got it.

“This is my house,” you reminded. “You do not get to order me out of my kitchen!”

She looked at Ransom, silently urging him to make his alliance known right then. Before he had to say anything, yelling sounded from outside the house. Walt and Richard had yet to finish the one job they had, everyone figured that was the cause of the disturbance.

Quickly, you all made your way out to the front of the house. Richard had his leg wrapped up in a mess of lights and was hanging from the edge of the house. The same vines of lights were also wound around Walt, who was hanging onto the house for dear life.

“Oh, my god!” Donna yelled. “Oh, my god!”

“Are you serious?” Linda demanded. “There is a pandemic! You guys seriously want to end up in the god damn hospital during a pandemic?”

Joni sighed in utter frustration. “Walt, just hang on. We’ll get Richard down—”

“Oh, my god!” Donna continued, despite the lack of panic coming from literally every other single person present. Even Walt seemed less alarmed than her. She started running to Richard and on any other day, it would have been an effortless plan of action. On this day, that Massachusetts had just seen a hell of a lot of snow, when the pavement was dangerously icy, she fell.

Meg screamed. “Oh, my god, I’m calling Dr. Fields!”

“He’s a doctor!” Joni pointed out. “A physical doctor—he won’t know how to deal with this sheer stupidity unless someone broke a bone!”

Donna, now over her initial shock, was attempting to get up.

“Donna, I think you’re hurt,” Meg said. “Just stay—”

Jacob was cautiously moving closer to her, directing her to stay put when Walt had finally lost his battle with the house. His hands slipped off and he went sliding down the edge of the roof. Richard hit the floor first, eliciting more screams from Meg and Donna, and then Walt followed onto several snow-covered bushes, and everyone lost their minds.

“I’m calling Dr. Fields! I am fucking calling Dr. Fields right now!” Meg repeated, shaking so much she could hardly get the phone out of her pocket, let alone find which one she had placed it in.

Joni began making her way through the snow to check if Richard was okay.”

“Oh, my god!” Donna was still repeating.

“Mom, just stay down,” Jacob said.

“Jesus,” Ransom snapped. “How hard is it to put these god damn lights on this god damn house?” He was following Joni, confident in the theory that his father was simply being dramatic. Walt, on the other hand, might have needed medical attention.

Meg watched her feet as she was walking back inside. “Dr. Fields, we have a serious emergency right now. I think everyone’s dying!”

Ransom and Joni were helping Richard sit up when he turned back to you. “Hey, get inside, you’re wet and going to get sick.”

He had a point, so without argument, you turned to do so. You felt the boniest of hands on your shoulders before you were shoved down face-first into the snow.

That was when Joni started screaming. “Oh, my god, call the police! She’s going to kill her. Meg, call the police!”

Meg ran out of the house and saw what was happening and once again, started to panic. “Dr. Fields, you need to get here immediately!”

Before you even fully processed what had happened, Linda was on top of you turning you onto your back.

“You stole my house!” she screeched.

“Linda!” Richard scolded.

You saw her hands go for your throat—later, everyone would claim she was probably doing something else, she obviously wasn’t going to choke you. You did the only thing you could think to do, you grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in her face.

She toppled over and you made your way on top of her. You weren’t going to hit your boyfriend’s mother, but you did proceed to throw snow in her face until Ransom had gotten you off her.

The grand total of injuries was seven. Yet, the total of injuries that had occurred directly in the incident was five. Donna had a bruised tailbone, Richard had a broken leg, Walt had a sprained wrist, your knee was cut up fairly terribly since you fell on it when Linda pushed you, and Linda had stitches on her cheek because the first time you threw snow at her, there was a huge block of ice that you weren’t aware of. After Richard pointed out that you hadn’t started the altercation, she punched him, and he now had a swollen eye. After Ransom had gotten you inside, Meg, in her state of panic, hadn’t seen the door was shut and walked straight into it, and her nose was broken.

You weren’t sure how this family had managed more disaster with nearly 300 fewer people, but there you were. Ransom had forced you into the shower to get all the frosting out of your hair and to hopefully prevent the cold he suspected you were going to catch given the tiny outfit you were parading around in outside.

He lured you out of the shower with a mug of hot chocolate. Every space heater in the house was gathered in your bedroom and as soon as you were in his reach, Ransom wrapped you up in at least three heavy blankets.

When he sat you down on the bed, he pulled your leg out so he could tend to your knee. You felt like a child with him sat next to you with a first aid kit, too-delicately prodding at your irritated, aching skin. He was babying you.

You didn’t feel guilty for what you had done to Linda, but you did hate that Ransom was in the middle. “I’m s—”

He held his hand up to you. “Don’t.”

“But—”

He turned up to you. “Babe, she attacked you.”

“I…threw a cookie at her.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that was a little crazy.”

“I am sorry,” you huffed. “We said we weren’t going to let them bother us today.”

“You finally told her this was your house. I’ve wanted that since we first moved in. I know what we said, but all in all, I think we gained more than we lost.”

“What did we gain, Ransom?”

“Well, she knows you’re scrappy so she might think twice before pushing you again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else?”

“Everyone is going to be preoccupied taking care of each other, Joni doting on Meg, my mom basically doing everything for my dad, Walt and Donna being overly protective of one another…”

“So, we can have sex in the kitchen and there’s a higher chance we won’t get caught?”

“That was exactly what I was thinking.”

You shrugged. “If we got Jacob a dog—”

“You know what?” he cut in. “Get out of these blankets, I haven’t spanked you in a long time even though you’ve deserved it about five times over by now.”

He made a show of attempting to get you out of the blankets even though you both knew he wouldn’t do it. You laughed the entire time until Ransom laid himself out on top of you, uncaring about how heavy he was.

“Is everyone okay?”

“They’ll live.”

“Well, I know Meg will—she’s going to get a nose job.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You are just going to have to live vicariously through her.”

“We kinda ruined Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I did not,” he argued. “The turkey is almost done, the pies are in the other oven, also almost done—”

“All three?”

He nodded. “Yep. Jacob, believe it or not, was happy to peel and cut the apples.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, Ransom.”

“As soon as everyone stops acting like they’re dying, we’ll be able to sit down…well, Donna might not be able to sit down.”

You laughed. “Your family is insane.”

“And clearly, you fit right in.”

“Clearly,” you muttered. Unfortunately.

Christmas Eve:

Sometimes, you wished that you had listened to him when he said this wasn’t happening. Because then you wouldn’t have needed to worry about so many god damn people! It would just be you and Ransom in absolute seclusion, but no. No, you would never have it so easy during this fucking holiday.

How difficult was it to pick up the presents that you had ordered? You picked them out, you organized it all, you had only asked Ransom to drive to a single location and obtain them for you. Why hadn’t he? Because he was sleeping at 2 in the afternoon.

What did you have for Jacob? Not a damn thing. You had no presents for the teenage delinquent you were terrified of. You weren’t family, he was going to store you away in the basement and torture you until he got bored. Ransom probably wouldn’t even realize you had been missing until Jacob placed your body parts all over the house. And three of Meg’s presents were also missing, you knew Linda was going to make another comment.

You would hit her with more ice. After you strangled her son, of course, who was currently hot helping in any way at all.

“Ransom, put your fucking drink down and hand me the tape!”

“Are your fucking hands broken?!”

“I’m holding the box!”

He slammed his drink down on the bedside table and angrily stormed his way to where you were surrounded by boxes, wrapping paper, and a million other things he wasn’t even aware you’d spent money on. This was too much for his family and he was just waiting for you to realize that they were nowhere near worth the effort you constantly put in.

Ransom picked up the tape, tore a piece off, and placed it between where your fingers were resting on the box.

“Thank you so much,” you responded, pure sarcasm.

And god damn, he had had enough of your fucking tone. “You are driving me insane!”

“I’m driving you insane?! Your family has been ruing my whole fucking life since March!”

“I didn’t want them here!”

“Well, I’m a human with actual empathy for others, so I logically knew that that was not an option!”

“You were going to leave my mother out of your precious sanctuary!”

“Because she’s abusive!” You shoved your hands into your hair and shook your head. “I’m done, absolutely done. I can’t have this conversation with you again. Your mother sucks, why is this news to you? I’m so sorry for trying to hold her accountable for her actions. Oh, but of course, every time someone tries to make any of you face the consequences for your actions, you act like it’s a hate crime!”

He glared. “I hate you.”

“I hate you!” you seethed.

“I can’t fucking believe I actually want to do this!” he turned away, scrubbing one of his hands down his face. “You make me so fucking crazy.”

“Do what?” you demanded. “What the hell are you talking about now? What god-awful thing have you decided to do?”

He made his way to the bed, tearing open the drawer to the bedside table on his side. He was muttering quickly under his breath and even if his speech hadn’t been so hurried, it was quiet enough that you had no chance of hearing anything.

It was silent for several moments before he turned back to you and threw something on the bed. He gestured to it then crossed his arms over his chest.

Since your bed was a mess of dark blankets, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be seeing. You stood, carefully stepping your way out of the present-wrapping station you had created and neared the bed. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a tiny black box against the mattress.

You looked back at him, eyes wide, pleading. No…no, that was not happening. He wasn’t actually…

“Marry me.”

“What?!”

He actually seemed surprised by your reaction. He leaned over, snatched the box off the bed, and stomped back to you. “Marry me.”

“You’ve lost it,” you accused. “You’re actually literally insane. You need to be committed!”

“Yes, it’s insane that I want to marry you but for some fucking reason, I do!”

“Oh, my god, Ransom!” You slapped the box out of his hands and that was just too much for him. “I’m not fucking marrying you, you’ve never even told me you love me!”

He hurriedly picked up the box, tossed it back onto the bed, and then grabbed you by your arms. “You’re seriously fucking bringing that up now?”

“What does that even mean?! Yes, I’m bringing it up now. You marry someone when you’re in love with them and since you haven’t said it after seven years, I understandably doubt your feelings for me.”

“You are such a fucking brat.”

“You’re a brat!” you yelled, more exasperated than you’d ever felt. “You’re such a fucking entitled brat! There’s no other way to describe you. You just think I’m going to say yes and give you everything you want when you can’t even say you love me!”

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

“Just fucking say it, Ransom! If you love me, just say it!”

“You will not bully me into saying something that I don’t even deem as important.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Love is a word! Okay? It means nothing. My parents fucking say they love each other, then my dad fucked someone else. Neal and Joni said they loved each other every god damn second that they could but guess what. He still died. And don’t even get me started on Walt and Donna, their “love” created the next great serial killer of this wonderful fucking country!”

You were speechless, Ransom never talked to you like this. He never brought up the fucked-up aspects of his family that had consequently fucked him up as well.

He finally let you go when he realized you weren’t going to say anything, turning to walk away. You startled when he banged his hand against the wall. “God damn it!”

“Why do you make me say it to you then?” you demanded.

“I don’t know!” he admitted.

Again, you were both silent. You were thinking of the best way to respond, and you certainly couldn’t come up with that, but you knew what you wanted to say. “I’m not marrying you.”

He laughed.

It was a terrifying sound that gave you chills. He was going to kill you, you were 90% sure. As soon as he started walking toward you, you turned away to run to the bathroom, but Ransom had always known that would be your plan.

He effortlessly caught you and dragged you back to the bed. He shoved you down, pinned your arms to the mattress to stop you from hitting him, and slid his hips between your legs to make it impossible to kick him. “You’re going to marry me.”

“You’re going to force me to marry you?”

“I’ll drag you to the fucking courthouse if I have to.”

“The courthouse?!”

“I want to give you a wedding, the obscenely priced, overly dramatic show that I know you want. But if you won’t say yes, you leave me no other option.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do because my answer is no.”

Luckily for him, your outfit was not overly complex. He knew you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt because his hand was between your legs for most of dinner that night. You didn’t let him make you come because you were throwing a temper tantrum over the situation with the presents, but he was evidently not deterred.

After he moved your wrists together and kept you held there, he used his free hand to get his pants out of the way. In seconds, he was fully inside you and was offering you no time to adjust.

You realized why when you felt his hands moving over your head. Turning up that way, you saw him fumbling with the box. He was going to put the ring on your finger, and you had the sinking suspicion you might not be able to part with it if you saw it. But no, this was not happening.

You managed to get one of your hands free and yanked on his hair.

He kissed you because he had nothing left to do but bite your lip. Hard. He didn’t even falter when you cried out.

He was the idiot who let you keep your shoes on and you were limited on where you could get your heel. You did yoga, but you weren’t some contortionist. You had one option, and that was stabbing your heel into the side of his ass, and it was completely his own fault.

Finally, he pulled away and was forced to let you on top, which was the only advantage you needed. You smacked the box off the bed. However, now that he wasn’t overly concerned with holding you to the bed, he could pull your hair until you relented and fell back onto the bed.

He rolled over several times until you were both on the very edge, managing to kick your heels off in the process. He never stopped driving his hips into you, knowing that the only advantage he had was how weak you always got for his cock.

You could hear him reaching around blindly on the floor but with each brush of his skin against your clit, you got less scared about the idea that he would get the ring on you. You knew you didn’t want it. You knew you didn’t want to marry him and there was no way in hell you would willingly say yes, but fuck, you wanted to come.

You touched the side of his face and he finally looked back at you.

“Say yes.”

“Fuck you.” You pulled him down, your lips meeting his. There was blood in the kiss and your lip was throbbing, but you couldn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this violently, this angrily. He’d never fucked you like this before. You were no stranger to Ransom being a cruel lover, but there had never been so much pure wrath.

He had located the box, you could tell when his fingernails stopped clicking against the hardwood floor. You were panicking, not fully thinking through your plans, you just knew you needed to be able to reach the box. You threw all your weight at him and he was barely balanced as it was.

Despite his anger, he still had more of a mind than you—probably because he wanted something out of this, he needed to be mindful to get his way. He basically let you throw him on the floor because he worried about the results if he managed to fall on you.

Instead of retaliating any further, you grabbed his hand and brought it down to your center. He needed no further prompt than that, his thumb began to circle your clit as his other hand grabbed your hip and moved you along the length of his cock.

Where was the box? On his chest, he set this there because he was the cockiest fucking asshole in the world. He saw you eyeing it and smirked. “Go ahead, baby, take it, but you know I’ll fucking stop.”

That was unimaginable. Both hands reached for the one he had on your hip. You continued rolling your hips like it was the last time you were ever going to get to, dragging his hand up to your mouth.

“I swear if you fucking bite me,” he warned.

No, you weren’t going to do that. Yet. You choked yourself on his fingers, stifling all the pathetic sounds that were spilling out from you. Ransom simply enjoyed the show, enjoyed you fucking yourself on his cock, enjoyed you staring at him with those smoky, delicate eyes as you sucked on his fingers.

He stopped touching your clit once he felt you coming. He used that hand to hold you up on your knees and thrust his hips into you punishingly. You were dizzy, disastrously satiated and overstimulated. He finished with a shaking moan, a tell that he was trying to be quiet.

It wasn’t late, the family was undoubtedly aware of what was going on.

He turned down, staring at the place you were still connected. Ransom waited until his cum was spilling out of you and then yanked you back down to take his entire length. If there was anything that Ransom did love in this world it was filling you with his cum and watching it slowly pour out.

You only allowed him to do this several times before you finally bit down on his fingers. His hand lifted from your hip and tore your hair back hard enough that you opened your mouth to yell at him. When he could pull his fingers from your mouth, he wrapped that hand around your neck and pulled you flat down, your chest to his, the ring box trapped between you and him, digging painfully into your ribs.

He slammed you into the wall and you brought your legs up to hook around his waist. “Sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to bite you.”

“After I get this ring on you, I’m gonna make you call your parents and tell them we’re engaged. And I’m gonna fuck you and make you call me daddy, just to remind your father how much of a daddy’s girl you used to be.”

“Why call when you could Facetime?”

“Then I’m gonna have you choking on my cock, baby, all they need to see is the ring on your finger.” The hand in your hair wedged its way between you and him and he located your clit once more.

It was too much but you knew Ransom wasn’t going to care. Begging him to stop would just provide him enjoyment and that was the last thing you wanted him to have. He kept his other hand around your neck because he knew you would say something that would annoy the fuck out of him if he let you.

When you were coming, his hips were moving once more and his hand abandoned your clit to move the box. You felt it sliding along your skin until it was gone and then you realized he wasn’t holding your neck anymore. He had your left hand held clutched in his and you felt the cold band he was sliding onto your finger.

You couldn’t do much, you had lost and you knew it. But you could leave a few more marks on him, so you latched your free hand onto his shoulder and dragged your nails down his back, and you bit down on his shoulder harder than you probably should have. He was a fucking animal, it seemed like he didn’t care at all. He just wanted to get the ring on you, and once he had, he grabbed your face and shoved you back.

You knew he was trying to get you to look at the ring, but you refused. Your eyes were slammed shut and nothing was going to change that.

He walked you to the bathroom, pulling out to bend you over the counter because he knew you would instinctually lift both hands up to the edge. Once you had, he shoved his cock back inside you and grabbed your jaw to angle your face in the direction of your left hand. “Look at it.”

“Fuck. You!” you growled.

He smacked your ass and even though you shrieked like he was murdering you, you did not open your eyes. He repeated this several times until his own hand was stinging almost unbearably. New plan.

He used his feet to kick your legs apart further and you felt a sharp, sudden slap against your cunt. Your eyes snapped open and a scream tore from your throat. He almost felt bad until he saw your attention on the ring. Was he an ass? Yes. But had he won? Also, yes.

That fucking asshole. His hand dropped to rub over your aching pussy, cock still moving at a painfully fast pace. Ransom was fucking furious and the only way he could take it out on you was by fucking you this way.

You couldn’t say you had any complaints about it. Tomorrow, when you were pretending you couldn’t stand to look at him, you would be bruised and sore everywhere that he had touched you. You would be wet all day thinking about how it happened.

The fucking ring. A huge cushion-cut diamond set in a halo on top of a diamond-encrusted band. It wasn’t simple, it sounded like it, but there was something so beautiful about it. Fuck, you wouldn’t let this ring go unless you were dead. Because he was right. You liked money and diamonds and you were materialistic, and this was from Ransom and you loved everything he gave you. And at the end of it all, even though you were saying no to him, he shoved that ring onto your finger because you were his and that was never going to change.

“Say yes.”

“No.”

“Fine.” He reached for your hand but stopped when he saw you make a fist.

“Try to take this ring from me and I will fucking kill you, Ransom.”

He scoffed. “Great, I’m gonna get my phone to Facetime your parents.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Not yet,” he pointed out. “First, I need to fuck your mouth, but then—”

From outside, the dogs started to bark.

You let your head fall onto the counter and groaned. “I fucking swear, every fucking time we’re fucking—”

He pulled out and rushed from the bathroom.

“Hey!” you called out. “What the hell?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself as he searched for where he’d thrown his pants. When had he even gotten them off?

“Ransom?”

“Wait there,” he directed and then he dashed out of the room.

“Excuse you!” It wasn’t like you had much of an option, your legs weren’t working yet, and you were sweating and gross, and bruised and your lip was swollen and clearly bitten.

After several moments, he hadn’t come back. What the hell was he up to? You winced and hummed, made any noise that made you feel slightly better, as you tiptoed around the room looking for something to put on. You settled on one of his shirts and slowly, pathetically made your way downstairs. “Ransom?”

No response.

“Hello, anyone?” If someone else was around, you could force them to look for your boyfriend instead of having to do so yourself. But it seemed that you were out of luck on that.

The dogs were still barking like crazy, but why was no one else reacting? And why did Ransom care? He never paid attention to the dogs. You followed the sound of their barking, they had moved from the backyard to the side of the house. Which was odd because they never went there.

The garage? Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Linda complaining about something, being constantly interrupted by Joni, Walt, and Ransom. Okay, again, unusual. He tended to ignore his mother, not argue with her.

His eyes widened when he saw you in the doorway. “No, no, this has to stop. I need everyone out of this room.”

“What the hell is going on?” you questioned.

“We don’t want to alarm you,” Donna began, “But—”

“Pretty sure he has drugs,” Meg claimed. “Like, hardcore drugs. Heroin, probably.”

Your eyes widened at him.

He glared. “I don’t have drugs, don’t be ridiculous.”

You gasped, pointing in the direction of the dogs still barking outside. “Those are German Shepherds, they’re drug dogs!”

Meg gasped, nodding at you with wide eyes. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Knock it off,” Linda scolded. “Ransom, show us what you’re hiding right now, or we’ll tear this room apart.”

He rolled his eyes, storming over to the corner of the room where a sheet was laid over something. “Fine, merry fucking Christmas.” He yanked it off one of the old kennels Linda used for her dogs when they were being trained.

There was a long list of things you were suspecting to see. Three sleeping puppies? No, they were nowhere on the list. And then you realized that was why he hadn’t gone to pick up Jacob’s present.

“You got me more puppies?” Linda inquired.

You, along with most of the room, glared at her.

“No,” Ransom snapped. “One is for Jacob and one’s for Meg.”

Both Jacob and Meg excitedly ran to the cage, startling the puppies awake. Much to Ransom’s dismay, the baby talk began without a second thought and the puppies were whining and making those small noises that always irritated him.

One for Jacob. One for Jacob. Then…the third. Oh, god.

He turned to you with a sigh.

“Yes,” you said, “Yes, yes, a million times yes!” You ran across the room, ignoring all your aching limbs and threw yourself into his arms. “And I’ll stop being so mean to you, and if you want to do this at the courthouse, I won’t even be upset because you’re so good to me and I’m awful to you. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he assured.

“No,” you protested. “It’s a million times not okay! I’m so sorry.” You pulled back to touch his face. “I’m really, really sorry. But I’m going to be the best wife in the world—”

“What?” Joni cut in.

That was the only thing in the world that could have drawn attention away from the puppies.

“Wife?” Linda repeated.

You checked with Ransom and he nodded. He had been looking forward to this. All you had to do was hold out your hand and Joni and Meg were excitedly shrieking. There hadn’t been a wedding in the family in so long.

“Wow,” Walt said. “Ransom? Engaged, showing commitment? This is the strangest year I’ve ever lived.”

Ransom rolled his eyes.

Before another word could be said, Linda collapsed onto the floor. Richard and Walt were the only ones who felt alarmed at the situation, while everyone else moved in closer to see the puppies.

“Which one is ours?” you wondered.

“Yours,” he corrected. “And the blonde one. She was the least yappy I could find on such short notice.”

Your eyebrows pulled together. “Where did you go?”

“The pound, obviously.”

“I fucking love you,” you blurted out, grabbing his face to pull him down into a kiss.

Once again, the room echoed with disgusted sounds.

“Which one’s mine?” Meg wondered.

“I couldn’t care less,” he admitted.

“I’m gonna name mine Hugh,” Jacob announced.

Ransom gave you an expectant look.

“I love you?” you tried.

“Gonna need a lot more than that.” He picked you up and because you knew Ransom wasn’t going to accept any kind of attitude from you for a very long time, you hooked your legs and arms around him and willingly went.

“I’ll take care of your dog until you guys are done being gross!” Meg promised.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics

ransom tags:

@la-cey

#ransom drysdale x reader #i did not actually do this #like wtf is wrong with me?#my writing

280 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

Text

HASO, “Secret Weapon.”

Hello everyone!

Sorry I have not posted anything in like a weak. I have plenty of excuses number one being that the fourth book in my favorite book series (the Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson came out) and I needed to finish reading it for my own sanity

number two being that I am currently working on a new novel and am trying to write 2000 words a day on that

plus I am trying to get into graduate school

also I have a job

And am experiencing a tiny bit f burnout :)

Either way I am sorry that It has been a while, and I hope you like the story today.

“Is he alright?”

“Not this again.”

“Someone should go talk to him.”

“I thought we were past this.”

Dr. Krill, Sunny, Dr Katie, Ramirez, and Maverick huddled outside the door to the observation platform looking inward to where the man stood in front of the window illuminated by a field of stars. His posture was eerily similar to how they had seen him once before, not long before a near breakdown had led him to take leave. Leave they weren’t entirely sure he would come back from.

They hoped this wouldn’t be like that, but this picture seemed all too familiar.

“Someone should go talk to him.”

Four heads turned to face Sunny who turned the corners of her mouth down in the approximation of a frown, “Why me.”

“Well aren't you like…. His girlfriend.”

“Ex.”

Ramirez raised an eyebrow, “You guys have been pretty cuddly recently for exes.”

Sunny huffed, “The relationship has yet to be defined, but that's beside the point. Ramirez you’re his BFF or whatever you humans call it.”

Ramirez shook his head, “Me, no I think Maverick has this one. She’s all spiritual and what not, so she is like supposed to talk to people about their problems.”

Maverick snorted, “I’m a chaplain not a therapist. Talk to doctor Adric if you need that.” She turned to look to doctor Krill, “If anyone should be talking to him it’s you. You’ve been his friend the second longest and you are the most logical.”

Dr Krill waved a hand, “I am not equipped to handle your human issues.”

“That is such a cop-out answer.”

The squabble continued for a few minutes, until finally Sunny raised her voice, “Fne, fine, I will go talk to him. You all wait here.”

They quieted down clustering around the door as they watched Sunny move forward into the room. She took a deep breath and slowly approached coming up to stand beside him. She turned her head fearing what kind of expression she might find on his face, and was both surprised, relieved, and concerned to find he had an expression of puzzled concentration on his face, brows knit together, mouth turned down in a frown.

She reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, you alright.”

He turned his head to look up at her, “Hmmm, oh yeah…. Fine as I can be I suppose.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His mouth turned up in a tight smile, “Only if you tell the others to stop loitering in the door and come help me out.” He raised his voice so that the others could hear and, in abashment, they headed into the room. Surprisingly Conn drifted in from the other side of the room where he had been spying from the other door.

They clustered together on one of the tables taking a seat as he turned to face them. He was smiling pleasantly, and the group glanced between each other in concern. It seemed like he was doing fine, but who were they to judge, they had been wrong before.

“Worried about me again I see.”

“I mean, you’ll forgive us. You have been…. Questionably erratic in the past.”

His smile continued,” I know, and I thank you, all for your concern about me. It is nice to know I have friends who I can count on.” He turned to look at Conn, “Go on, tell them.”

Conn floated off to the side ribbons undulating in his simulated zero gravity field, “He is stressed but not overly so.”

They nodded relieved.

He turned, putting his hands behind his back and began to pace. Hisback was straight and the way he walked was like a general examining his troops on the battlefield. “I admit that I have been distant, and I admit that in the past something like this would have overwhelmed me. I still FEEL overwhelmed though not in a drowning sort of way.” He turned the other direction, “I feel like I have been caught in an intergalactic game of chess where I am the king facing down a queen and her rooks.”

Sunny didn’t understand the metaphor but Krill certainly seemed to.

“I don’t have enough experience to play the game and so my movements are limited. But the chairwoman…. She’s a Rundi, and has trained for politics all her life in one way or another.” he turned back in the opposite direction. “And just like a king in chess I find myself the most important piece of a game that I cannot directly influence.”

They watched him pacing back and forth. They had never seen him like this, though it was better than the other options.

“I think you underestimate your position.”

Admiral vir lifted his head, “And how is that?”

Dr Kate idly played with the ends of her hair as she thought, “Well, you know what she is planning. And she doesn't know that you know, which, I feel, gives you a leg up.”

He nodded, ‘And you are right, for sure, butI find the problem being that I’m not…. Smart enough to know how to use it.” He turned in the other direction, “I had my IQ tested at the academy you know…. Above average but nowhere close to genius, which I would need to be in order to play this sort of game.” He turned to eye krill, “We have a certified genius aboard the ship, but something tells me that politics wouldn’t be your strong suit.”

Krill shrugged rather abashedly. That was true enough.

“If only I had some sort of secret weapon.”

***

Eris had never been off-world.

Noctopolis had been her home for as long as she could remember though the early days of her life had been spent inside a cage. She was Eunique, the only one of her kind, half human and half starborn, and sometimes, it felt, completely alone.

Despite her maturity, she was less than three years old, and had been grown at an enhanced rate inside a simulated womb using adapted DNA to configure her parts. She was completely unnatural, a freak of nature that had nothing to do with nature. She was an unnatural abomination. And since they had been rescued, she had spend her days living and working for other people. The hybrids had needed a stable home,somewhere they could learn and grow and feel loved.

She had created that place, and provided that for a time, but she was growing exhausted.

Others had stepped in to help and volunteer. People from all over the galaxy had really shown their compassion in coming to her and either adopting the hybrids or offering to help and work athr foundation. A sweet LFIL couple (Tesraki and Human pair) had offered to take over for her as she was struggling to run what what essentially a business in some ways, though it was more a boarding house for the hybrids.

In the end there were only a few left who needed watching, and her burnout had been obvious to others.

She needed to get away.

To find her own path, but….. What was that?

Eris couldn’t survive in space like a starborn, that was well established, her bones and organ structures were like that of a human. The internal structures of a hybrid always had to be one way or another to avoid horrific malfunctions, so in most ways she was human.

Accept for her skin, and eyes of course which were starborn. She was as pale as alabaster and her eyes were wide and dark. This made her a freak to humans, so she kept her dark hair very long inorder to hide her face, which she grew more and more ashamed of by the day.

It didn’t help that she had the ability to read the thoughts of others, and knew better than anyone what people thought about her.

She wore a gravity belt sometimes since she found it felt better on her joints, but she had stopped when she left the foundation and struck out on her own. Today she wore a hoodie -- with the UNSC logo on it -- and very dark sunglasses.

Final boarding call for flight 1427 to earth, Final boarding call.

Eris followed behind the tide of other humans pulling her luggage along behind her. She was tired, and her knees ached a little, but she supposed she was ok. Due to the nature of her eyes, she didn’t see very well as humans did, but reading the minds of others as a constant background in her head she was able to navigate better than anyone there as she knew when they were going to move on when they were going to stop. She maneuvered the tide of human bodies like no human could.

Again, Eris was mostly human. She didn’t hear though, and relied on others to do that for her, and she couldn't taste or smell either, but that was also something she could borrow.

Her senses lacked only what the people around her could and could not see.

She follow the boarding call with the other passengers and offered her ticket to the flight attendant.

The woman squinted under her hood rather suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. These space ports were well guarded, and Eris had already had to deal with other people staring at her when she went through security.

She followed the other humans onto the shuttle and took a seat. The floor glowed blue throbbi in time with the engine as she locked herself into her seat. Out the window she could see the surface of mars, Hazy grey in the distance with rough red plateau’s rising up in the distance.

It was strange to be in the human system, the genesis of half her ancestral line. SHe didn't know about her starborn half as she had never met one. She knew who her DNA donor had been in theory, though he had likely had his DNA stolen.

Eris doubted that he knew about her.

And then there was her human donor, Admiral Vir, the most famous human in the galaxy.

Eris Vir

She kind of liked that, though she never really used it, feeling he might see it as a breach of privacy. The man had been nothing but good to her the few times she had met him, and the one time he had saved her. She admired him a lot and wished she had a better relationship with him, though his job took him far away. She wasn’t the only one, most all of her hybrid brothers and sisters, who were part human,had been grown off his stolen DNA.

She was the only one, however, that seemed to care.

Eris Vir.

She sighed and leaned her head against the window.

What was she doing?

Below her the ground sped away as the automated safety system continued to give instructions.

“Preparing for warp.”

She held onto the seat feeling her insides churn as the warp sequence engaged. She jerked once against her seatbelt as te warp stopped, and below her she could see the glittering vista of the human homeworld.

Earth.

She pressed her face up to the window and gasped in awe.

It was beautiful blue and green swirled with delicate white clouds in churning spirals.

Herheart raced inside her chest.

This was it…. This is where it all began.

Preparing to dock on lunar 1 please remain in your seats until the seatbelt sign is off.

She waited patiently and stopped off with the others, walking out into the fifth spaceport of her trip, her suitcase rattling behind her.

She followed the sins to the proper docking station and waited for another shuttle that would take her to earth. It would be at least an hour for the next one to Mid-Mericanda, so she would have to wait.

She slumped in her seat and listened to the music of the girl next to hre. The music was ood, it had a nice beat.

When her boarding was called, she stood and followed onto another shuttle, which took her down through the atmosphere rattling and bouncing in her seat. She did her best to keep her hood covering her face as she stared out the window at the wondrous view below her. It was so bright!.

Noctopolis had no sunlight, but this was beautiful and colorful, and it looked so warm.

She didn’t see why everyone thought earth was so dangerous.

They touched down outside an Airport where she could see planes fuling for in-atmosphere flights, and stepped out onto the tarmac with wide eyes. Wides eyes under the radiation of the sun. Glorious, glorious heat, it warmed her through her sweatshirts and into her body making her drowsy and happy and warm. Her entire body felt energized, and even her knees seemed as if they were aching just a little less. She stood in the sun probably longer than she should have.

“Been a while since you’ve seen the sun huh?”

She jumped a little in surprise, which was unusual for her and turned to look at the human baggage attendant standing on the other side of the gate, “Oh yes…. A very…. Very long time.”

The smiling human tipped his hat at her, “Well enjoy your stay ma’am.”

She couldn’t help but smiling back thinking about how pleasant he was. His memories were warm, filled with sunny days spent with his family. It made her chest ache just to think of it as she turned and headed towards the baggage claim.

She picked up her bags just fine and then walked to stand just outside.

Suddenly very lost.

She looked up at the sky which was a beautiful blue color she had never seen before and she breathed in the air of earth, Air thousands of years old, breath in by countless humans that had come before.

Eris frowned at herself. She needed to stop thinking of them as being so different from her. She was half human after all, even though her eyes and skin were a little strange. Still, it that moment she had never felt so alien, unsure of where to go or how to proceed.

“Need a lift. Lady.”

She turned on the spot coming fact to face with a man leaning back against the hood of his strange yellow machine…. A taxi it seemed.

She searched or his intentions and heard nothing but his desire to work.

She walked over nervously and held up a small piece of paper, “I am looking for this address, do you know how I can get there.” He scanned the address with a chip implanted in his hand and then tilted his head to look down at his wrist as a map appeared.

He chewed slowly on a wad of gum and blew a bubble, “Yeah I can get you there, can you pay.”

“Do you take credits?”

“Take anything as long as you meet the exchange value for dollars.”

She nodded, “I would like to be taken there then, please.”

The man nodded and touched his forehead helping her ut her suitcase in the back before opening the door for her. She climbed in, and h slid into the front seat pulling away and into traffic. Looking around she could see most of the vehicles didn’t touch the ground, though a few rolled on wheels. The high speeds at which they drove made her nervous and she clutched the harness holding her in place.

Below her she could see the city unfolding in a great sprawling vista. She stared, the architecture was so strange with sharp geometric lines mostly of steel and glass rising hundreds of feet into the air. They dropped lower into the city and eventually out to where lines and lines of similarly cut houses stood in sharp rows.

She had seen this in the memories of humans before but never thought shed see it.

They drove for a little longer until the houses gave way to sprawling fields and little tons until they pulled into a small place in comparison to the city, past a school and some other amenities before pulling in to another one of the subdivisions.

She recognized the house even though she had never seen it in person, and the Driver pulled to a stop.

She paid the man and stepped out of the car thanking him as he got her bag for her and then just drove off.

Eris was left standing alone on the quiet suburban street under an earth sun. Though she was alone her mind was full of strange images, seen through the eyes of unusual creatures. It made her disoriented for a moment, but she quietly walked forward up the sidewalk and to the front door of the house.

She paused.

She could feel people inside, and knew that she was at the right palace, but she was nervous, how would they react to her. Would they even accept her existence?

What was she doing here?

It’s not like she was part of thor family, not by choice anyway.

She almost turned around but stopped and then raised a hand knocking softly on the door.

Eris held her breath and waited, footsteps approached the door, a man approaching thinking nothing more than one of his neighbors come to ask a question.

The door opened and Jim Vir looked down at her.

He was a tall intimidating man, one who had work hard all his life.

He tilted his head in that curious fashion humans had, “Can I help you?”

Nervously, Eris pushed back her hood and pulled off her sunglasses letting her long black hair roll down next to her face. The man’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the thought in his head was a little less than what she expected.

Another one

He frowned, “You’re…. Not a starborn ar you?”

Hedidn’t seem to think so recalling that Adam’s friend Conn couldn’t survive without a 0 gravity field.

She shuffled nervously, “No…. well yes…. I’m half starborn and half human.”

Yep, another one.

To her surprise he smiled and opened the door, “You must be Eris then.”

She blinked, “You know about me/”

Dumb question as she could see Adam had told his parents about her. They even had a picture of the two of them together.

Despite hos scary he looked his thoughts and demeanor were pleasant as he opened the door to invite her in, “Guess this makes you my granddaughter in a way doesn’t it?”

“In the technical sense.” She said quietly smiling

“Well Family is always welcome here.”

Isn’t that nice she thought.

She hoped it was going to work out

237 notes · View notes

starlightxsvt · 4 years

Text

Hellion

pairing: Jeonghan x female reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, idk what this is

warnings: cursing

word count: around 1.5k

A/N: Firstly, happy birthday to the Jeonghan, our con man. I know I'm a day late so forgive me for that. Secondly, I've no idea what the hell I wrote. I've cancelled two other drafts I wrote for his birthday cause none of them were coming together and in the end I've decided to post this shit. Anyway, your feedback would be really appreciated in this mess of a story :').

"What's Jeonghan doing here?" You hiss to Mingyu who has a hard time prying his eyes off of Chaeyeon. "I invited him. I never thought he'd actually come. I'm surprised too." He replies.

"Wha- why would you invite Jeonghan to my birthday party!" You glare at him to which he rolls his eyes, "Come on now, he's in our friend group. And college is almost over. You don't know when you'll see him again. Ogle him while he's still here." He smirks.

"What did you just s-"

"Oh come on, don't act like I don't know that he's your secret crush. Maybe make up with him and if you're lucky you'll get some good dick as a birthday present." Mingyu chuckles at your open mouth before scurrying away to avoid your wrath. You glare at his retreating figure before inhaling sharply. And before you can stop yourself, you start to look for him.

You spot Jeonghan at the large porch in the back of Mingyu's house, sitting in one of the porch seats while sipping beer. He looks dashing as always, his black hair messy, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight, his cheekbones getting a prominent shine. You sigh.

Jeonghan was an exhausting person to be around and maybe, he'd say the same for you. You've known him since highschool and after a particular incident of him spilling his banana milk all over your brand new scarf, you decided to call it war. To this day you believe that he did it on purpose because you told your homeroom teacher that he slept during his class.

After that it was like an unspoken rule- you two would bicker whenever you were in the same space. It only infuriated you that he was so good looking, smart, famous and the fact that you had some feelings developing for him. Each time you saw him with a girl you'd feel a bitter feeling all over and you could only hope that those feelings would pass over time. But no they didn't, they only grew- the small branches had formed a tree now, the roots planted deep in your heart.

"How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?" Jeonghan calls, without turning behind. You clear your throat before walking to him, "Didn't expect to see you here, fuck face."

"Can you not call me names for a day please? You're just jealous I'm good looking." He remarks drowning the can of beer.

You snort, "Haha. You wish, loser." You plop down beside him. "I see you've finished quite a few cans. What's up? Got ditched?" You poke him.

"What do you care?"

"You're ruining the mood here with all these sad aura around you. Go drink your sorrows away somewhere else, this is my party."

"Yet you are sitting with me and my sad auras."

"I came to tell you that," you scoff, crossing your arms over.

"Parties are not your thing, I know. And Mingyu wasn't shy on inviting people. It feels more like his birthday than yours." Jeonghan comments, still staring ahead. His words are true and they infuriate you. You can't help but get defensive, "What do you know, sad boy? I'm enjoying myself just fine."

"And yet you are sitting with me and-"

"Stop saying that, will you!" You snap. Jeonghan chuckles before looking at you. He unabashedly eyes you up and down, heating your cheeks up in the process.

"Nice dress," he murmurs. His words catch you off guard and you glare at him, "Stop staring at me, pervert."

"You were staring at me earlier."

"Seriously? Can you stop for one goddamn second?"

"You're the one who started it."

"That's it. I shouldn't have come here," you stand up to leave but to your utter surprise Jeonghan grabs your hand, sending your heart to a frenzy. "Wait."

You swallow nervously, heart thudding loudly in your chest as Jeonghan lets go of your hand and meets your eyes, "Sit down, I've a gift for you."

You frown, "You have a gift for me?" Jeonghan nods before sitting straight, setting down his can. "Before that, I need you to know something."

"W-what?"

"I really didn't spill my milk all over you intentionally that day." He meets your eyes.

You can't help but laugh out loud partially because he's still concerned about that and partially because you believe he's lying.

"Listen here, sad boy, I've put that well past me. And I know for a fact you did it on purpose so don't-"

"You didn't, ___. We've been fighting over that for our whole goddamn lives. And no, I'm not lying. I've no reason to. I never cared if you told our teacher shit or not." His chocolate orbs bore into yours and you swallow. The air surrounding you suddenly becomes thick and you start to feel jittery and maybe a slight amount of guilt. Is he really speaking the truth?

"W-whatever, I don't care anymore." You say, sitting down gently beside him.

"And yet you still hold a grudge against me," Jeonghan sighs. "Besides you're not even fun to fight with."

"What did you say?"

He laughs, his eyes forming crescents and the sweet melody echoing in the air. You quickly look away before he catches you staring, "I don't have all day. Where's my gift?"

"Yeah, right." From beside him he produces a bag that you didn't notice before. He hands it to you and you tentatively peek in, half expecting a bug to jump out.

To your utter surprise, a scarf that looks identical to the one he ruined lies there. A small gasp leaves your mouth.

"I bought it that day after I stained yours. I was going to give this to you as an apology but dear lord, you were on my ass the second I got to class next day." Jeonghan speaks and a blush coats your cheek leaving you feel vulnerable all of a sudden.

"I don't know what to say," You whisper more to yourself. Jeonghan chuckles, "I know, you're touched. It's okay, we're even finally."

You bite your lip and exhale loudly before meeting his eyes, "Thanks." Jeonghan moves his hand in a dismissive wave. "I thought I'd finally give it you, call it a truce. We'll probably never see each other again after this month and I wanted to depart on good terms."

Your throat constricts, an overwhelming sadness enveloping you. He's right, you two would probably never see each other again. His dad owns a huge business and he'd probably go abroad to manage it.

"You're right, let's call it a truce," you whisper staring at the scarf in your lap.

"Come on now, don't look so sad, sad girl," Jeonghan teases you and you roll your eyes. He's still the same.

He hands you a beer, "Have a drink with me to sign the truce." You quietly laugh, taking the can from him. You two share a comfortable silence, staring at the night sky, the music from the party fading into the background until Jeonghan decides to break it.

"I know you like me, ___." The words slip past his lips like it's the most casual thing ever. You choke on your beer before looking at him eyes wide like saucers, "W-what!"

Jeonghan slightly turns to face you, his features calm, "You don't have to act. I've known all along."

Oh. My. God.

Heat spreads all over your face like wildfire. Your first thought is that Mingyu told him. You chew your lip as you see no way out. "W-who told you?" You squeak.

"I've figured it out myself," He says nonchalantly, resting his head on his hand as you stares at you.

"You-you did?"

"Mhmm."

You fumble with the hem of your dress before murmuring out, "I-I should get going." You need to escape him. Forever.

But Jeonghan isn't done. He casually goes on, "I've always thought you were pretty. Even when you get red after losing an argument." You blush furiously as your palms sweat.

"You know I really had no intention of picking a fight with you but you...you were so desperate to bring me down. You always speak too much and I often think about the many ways I could shut your loud mouth. Such a shame, we would've made a great couple."

Your face feels like it's on fire by now. You swallow before nervously laughing, "I s-see what you're doing here...You're trying to p-prank me, asshole."

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair, sighing, "See? There you go again, running that damn mouth." Your lips press together as you clench your fists, thinking of a way out. In the blink of an eye Jeonghan scoots closer to you and leans in to capture your lips in a kiss.

A squeak leaves your mouth as Jeonghan tilts your head, cupping your cheek. You want to pull back, smack him, call him names but you can only moan as his mouth slots against yours perfectly. Your tongues clash as you grab a fistful of Jeonghan's shirt, moaning.

When you pull back for air, you're mortified, wanting to be swallowed up by the ground. Jeonghan is totally calm as he takes in your messy state licking his lips.

"Do you want to continue?"

"W-wh-what?"

"I said do you want to continue this? If you don't want to I'll leave. If you do then you're coming home with me. Which one is it gonna be, ___?"

You bite your lip. Oh my God. This can't be happening.

You grit your teeth as every ounce of your resolve disappears, "I...I want you."

The smile on Jeonghan's face is victorious, a smile you've seen million times before, a smile that makes you week in the knees. "Good girl." He says encasing your lips in another kiss before standing up holding out his hand. "Come along, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you for any other man. Even when it's morning you'll only be thinking about me," he whispers in your ear before tugging you out of the porch- your heart hammering in your chest as you squeeze the scarf on your hand.

Fuck, you owe Mingyu a fruit basket or some shit now.

A/N 2: Also, that video of Jeonghan exercising made me 🥵🥵 this man is so infurating. I was literally dehydrated from watching that video.

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

Substitute Queen (Happy Birthday Queen Walton!)

This is a special edition of Fast Forward for my friend @queenwalton as she enjoys this series I've created a lot and it is her birthday! (Well a day early!)

I'm pretty sure you have been following along with me since I started writing on the fandom a little over a year ago. Thank you for your friendship and support. I hear from you after every chapter I post and I love it. Also thank you for being my trustworthy reader of infinite snippets. I hope you have an absolutely wonderful birthday my friend. 🥰🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤

A/N: Thanks @dcbbw for bouncing some ideas around with me, and giving me a few to make this birthday fic even better. Thank you girl.

Summary: Riley and Liam go on their first vacation alone since the events of Ellie’s kidnapping. Maxwell and Taylor take care of all the children. Maxwell throws a “Baby” Beaumont Bash.

Original Post Date: 03/24/21 at 11:55AM EST

The Book: TRH and Beyond

Pairing: Liam x Riley / Maxwell x Taylor

Warnings: None other than hilarious fluff

Word Count: 2425

Song inspiration for this chapter: Baby Shark (Trap Music Remix)

I don’t own rights to this hilarious music.

Liam saw Riley standing in the study with her back turned to him. The King of Cordonia shifted seamlessly into stealth mode as he crept silently into the study, surprising his Queen by pouncing on her like a lion, grabbing her and slipping his arms around her waist, and sensually planting a soft kiss to the sensitive skin on her neck. He gently rubbed himself against her.

“Take a break for a little while my love.”

He felt her body tense up.

“EEEWWWWW GROSS!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!! OOOOH GOD!!!!!!! NOT YOUR WIFE!!! PUT THAT THING AWAY!!!!!! YOU HAVE FOUR KIDS!?!?!?!?!? AREN’T YOU GUYS TIRED OF DOING THAT?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?”

Liam quickly recoiled from her. Liam looked genuinely horrified when she turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry Taylor. From behind, I swear I couldn’t…I mean I didn’t…..”

“Bleh!!!! Don’t finish that sentence!!!!!!

Riley walked in the room seeing Taylor and Liam visibly uncomfortable.

“What did I miss?”

“I need a bath!!! Your husband thought I was you. Apparently we look the same from behind.”

Riley glanced at Taylor. “I mean…. He’s really not completely wrong Tay. Now that you had the twins, we really do.”

Taylor scowled.

“And that right there is why no one will mistake us for each other from the front. Your scowl face.”

“Well this is a sufficiently awkward conversation, so I’m going to go, especially after I’ve completely embarrassed myself. Riley when you’re finished, please come by my study.” Liam still had a flush on his cheeks and ears.

“For real, put that thing away Liam, it’s barely lunch time.” Taylor grumbled.

“I will be there.” She winked at him.

Liam’s smile returned.

“Can one of you keep it in your pants please? You two are like horny teenagers.”

“I’m okay with that.” They both said in unison smiling at each other. Liam left the room.

“Are you going away for your wedding anniversary?”

“We probably should, but we have our date nights, and we can always sneak some time alone now that the kids are a little older, now that everyone is potty trained and not on the boob anymore. God I missed my boobs being mine, and now that they are again, of course they look like a dumpster fire after breastfeeding four kids.”

“Well that’s one hell of a bra then.”

“Who are you telling? They would be dragging the floor otherwise.”

Taylor laughed.

“Please don’t do that visual to our body.”

“It is our body right?”

Riley and Taylor giggled.

“You two should go away alone. You two never get adult time… And I don’t mean just for that. You two apparently get more than enough adult time for that.”

“Tay, it’s just that we haven’t really been away from the kids. Anywhere we go, we travel as a family. I feel safer that way, so does Liam.”

“Because of me right?”

“Tay….”

“It is. The last time you two tried to go on vacation was when I took Ellie, and you haven’t been apart from them a day since. It’s my fault you two are afraid to be away from your children."

“Taylor, Liam and I have forgiven you for that, a long time ago. We know that you’re not the same person you once were.”

“Prove it, you two take a trip, and it’s a trip you two desperately deserve. I promise the palace will be still standing when you get back.”

Taylor smiled at Riley.

“Please let me do this for the two of you. It’s been one thing after another, and you guys deserve a vacation. Let me and Max take care of the kids.”

“Tay… you do realize that would be your two barely crawling plus my four. You two would be taking care of six children.”

“And your kids are pretty self sufficient. They can feed themselves.”

“You’ll need some reinforcements, Tay. For real. I’ll call Drake and Hana to help.”

“I really think Max and I can handle it.”

“Tay…”

“Riley, we got this.”

*^*^*^*^* Taylor and Maxwell *^*^*^*^*

“You volunteered us for WHAT?!?!?!?!?”

“Oh come on Max, they’re just kids.”

“Yeah, and we’ve been lucky to keep the two of ours alive so far. We’re going to be outnumbered Softie. There’s going to be six of them and two of us. You have put them at an unfair advantage.”

Taylor laughed.

“This is not a war Maxwell.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a war.”

A week later, Riley and Liam were preparing to leave for their first vacation alone, since they had children.

Riley kissed and hugged each child.

“Now you kids behave for Auntie Taylor and Uncle Maxwell. I’m counting on you Miss Crown Princess for a report when I return. You know you’re first in command Ellie.”

Ellie stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “I promise Daddy, we’ll all be good.”

Ellie gave a little salute.

Liam gave one back.

“As you were, my princess.”

Riley, still kneeling, smoothed down Liberty’s little curls. Her little lip was already trembling.

“Mommy loves you baby.” She kissed her little cheeks.

“Are you ready to leave My Love?”

Riley stood up nodding. Liam reached out her hand for hers.

They started to walk towards the SUV.

“Mama.”

Liam felt Riley stop.

“It’s okay My Love we can do this.”

Riley’s eyes were quickly filling with tears.

Riley resumed her stride.

“Dada?”

The little inflection of a question in Liberty’s voice made Liam stop dead in his tracks. His grip tightening on Riley’s hand. Liam took a deep shaky breath.

"Don't look back Liam, you know we won't leave if we do."

Bastien and Nico could see how the King and Queen were struggling to leave their children.

“Your Majesties, come this way.” Bastien called out to them gently.

Both the King and Queen were in tears hearing their youngest burst into tears at the sight of them leaving, as they climbed into the black SUV.

“It’s okay. They’ll be fine Riley. They have reinforcements.”

“Taylor wouldn’t let me call Drake or Hana.”

Liam hit a button on his phone. He put the phone on speaker.

“What’s your location?”

“Already inside the palace.”

“Olivia?”

“And you fully understand the plan?”

“Let your tiny humans drive Taylor and Maxwell insane?”

“NO!!!!”

“I know the plan Liam! Not be seen and keep a watch on them, and only appear if they need help with the children. “

“Yes. Thank you Liv.”

“I do this because we’re friends Riley.”

“Liberty has a set of lungs on her, she hasn’t stopped crying since you two left. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“Thank you Liv.”

“They’ll be fine, i’ll be watching. Enjoy your vacation already.”

“Where are we headed? Since you wouldn’t disclose a location to me, I literally packed for everything including plagues and fire rain.”

“For some fun in the sun on our own private beach.”

“Good thing I packed a bathing suit.”

“You won’t be needing it.”

Riley smacked Liam’s arm as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

*^*^*^*^*^* Meanwhile back at the Palace *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“C’mon Libby it’s okay. Mommy and Daddy will be back.”

Taylor picked her up, rocking her in her arms.

“Shhhhhh… it’s okay Libby. Auntie Taylor is here, so is Uncle Max.”

Libby’s cries subsided a little but not significantly.

“Can I try?” Ellie asked.

Ellie crossed her eyes and made a funny face at Libby causing her to break out into a fit of giggles.

“We’re evening out the odds. Three on three, I like those odds better Taylor. We might actually survive this. They will listen to one of their own. Ellie is like our super agent spy.”

By the end of day one both Taylor and Maxwell were exhausted, tending to and chasing around six children. At least their two were relatively easy to catch, as they were barely mobile.

“Why did I think the children being self-sufficient was going to be a good thing? I’ve never been this tired in my life.”

“Is this what we have to look forward to when they’re older?”

"Seems like it."

^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*

“My Love?”

“Yes Dear?”

“You don’t have to cut up my food for me.”

Riley had absentmindedly cut up Liam’s chicken into very small child bite size pieces. She had also ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Oh! I didn’t even realize.”

Liam smiled at her, running his fingers through his hair. “We’ve been parents for so long, it’s been a long time since you and I have been truly alone.”

“You know what I want to do after dinner?” Riley inquired.

Liam raised his eyebrow with an intrigued smirk.

“I think I might have an idea of exactly what you want to do.”

Liam and Riley went to sleep after dinner. Both stretched out in the bed. Both had covers, and no kids arms, legs, feet, or hair in their face.

Every night was like that Liam and Riley got the most sleep they had, had in years…. Well after other adult activities. Liam had even turned off his alarm living in the moment with Riley.

*^*^* Baby Beaumont Bash *^*^*^*

Taylor was feeding the girls when she heard loud thumping music. Taylor could hear jingling. Taylor glanced up, seeing the chandelier above her head was thumping to the beat of the music. Thank goodness the twins were used to Maxwell's antics, and Lily and Violet were sleeping right through it. She put Violet back in the crib and walked down the hall. The closer she got to the east wing ballroom the music got louder.

Taylor pulled the doors open to the ballroom, smoke bubbled down the hall.

There were multi colored blinking lights, a disco ball spinning from the ceiling and a snack table full of candy, sweets and soda.

Maxwell had a DJ station set up playing a song on an endless loop, bobbing his head to the music with his headphones on.

And Riley's kids hopped up on kiddie cocaine (aka sugar) dancing and flailing around in what Taylor could only think to describe as a kiddie rave.

"Is that….. a trap remix of baby shark?"

"Heck yeah it is."

And the kids were loving it.

Maxwell let the music keep playing and he had a bottle of champagne in one hand calling Ellie and Adam over to him. He had a sword in his right.

"Adam you hold the bottle."

"You are not giving them champagne Maxwell! They're children!"

"I'm shocked at you Softie. What kind of Uncle do you think I am? It's just sparkling apple cider. Okay Ellie, you get the sword because you're the oldest. And what you want to do is slice just like I'm showing you. Oh, and don't kill your brother, that would be bad."

"I don't think Daddy would let us do this Uncle Maxwell." Ellie said wearily.

"Heck no he wouldn't. Well not with Maxwell teaching you. If anyone is going to teach the crown princess to slice anything while someone else is holding it, it's going to be me."

Olivia appeared walking out of the shadows of an alcove.

"Have you been here the whole week?"

"Of course! You know Liam and Riley. And these kids are never going to fall asleep, if we don't have them dance the sugar out."

"I've got just the thing.”

Max cranked up the music.

*^*^*^*^* Liam and Riley *^*^*^*^*

"Liam I miss them."

"We'll be home to see them by noon tomorrow."

"Liam I know you miss them too, log into Crown Cam, so we can see them."

Riley sat next to Liam as he logged into Crown Cam.

As they went to each room they noticed none of the children were in their beds.

"It's past their bedtime."

"Did you really think Max and Taylor would get all kids to bed on time?"

"No but…."

They clicked on each room, until they got to the ballroom on the east wing.

Both gasped at the scene. Liam clicked the button enabling the cameras to pick up sound in the room.

Both looked at each other, seeing their kids wildly dancing and flailing about. Libby was excitedly jumping up and down with a glow stick while Olivia sang on stage.

"Is Olivia really singing and rapping to Let It Go?!?"

Olivia's Rap

Liam nodded, watching the scene for a few more moments before slowly closing his laptop.

"I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this."

*^*^*^*^*^* kiddie rave *^*^*^*^*

Taylor danced with the kids while Max continued at his DJ station.

"Olivia can flow, can you believe it Max?!?"

"OLIVIA!!!!! LANGUAGE!!!!!!! THEY'RE CHILDREN!!!!" Maxwell screamed.

"Are you serious with me right now?!? Language?"

Olivia rolled her eyes in complete annoyance.

"Of all the things you've done, LANGUAGE is your hard stop? You gave the crown princess a SWORD to slice a bottle out of her younger brother's hands, and instructed her not to kill him. That's entirely okay, but CURSING is where you draw the line in the sand? Seriously Maxwell?"

Both Taylor and Olivia glared at Maxwell for a few moments in confusion.

"Liv keep going!!! We have to tire them out!!!"

Olivia resumed her rap battle….with herself.

Within an hour it looked like a crime scene in the ballroom. Children were passed out everywhere.

Taylor picked up a sleeping Ellie, Olivia, grabbed Adam, and Maxwell carried Jaiden and Liberty upstairs to their beds.

"They need baths, their faces and hands are dirty with crumbs and sweets."

"We'll give them baths in the morning, before Liam and Riley get back." Maxwell was confident they could get it done.

They didn't. They all slept in instead.

When Liam and Riley arrived back at the palace, they didn't know what to expect.

They saw their kids, all lined up wearing yesterday's clothes, dirty faces, and wild chaotic hair, looking like they had their own kiddie walks of shame. But each child had a huge smile on their face.

Liam walked up to Ellie.

"Your report my Crown Princess?"

"Daddy! I sliced a bottle top off a bottle while Adam held it."

"And I didn't die!" Adam screamed confidently.

"We had fun!" Jaiden exclaimed.

"Daddy did you know Auntie Liv is a gangsta rapper?" Ellie's voice sounded like she was in complete awe.

"Yes My Princess, we saw."

Olivia turned pale, then she knowingly nodded. "I should have known you two would access Crown Cam."

Riley turned to Maxwell.

"So you threw a Beaumont Bash…. for our children?" Riley asked.

"Of course, gotta train them up right!! Little Blossom!"

"Sure, they're a little dirty, but at least the palace is still standing, what else would you expect from the Substitute Queen?" Taylor commented with a smirk.

Happy birthday! I hope you enjoyed this!

Tagging the comments

#bebepac writes #birthday fics #happy birthday queenwalton #trh fanfic #trh fandom #riley x liam #fast forward #choices fic writers creations

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golden-kettle · 3 years

Text

Reassurance (Bruno x GN!Reader)

Bruno Bucciarati x Insecure!Reader

TW// none

You find it hard to apply the words Bucciarati says to you to yourself. With a little reassurance, he can get you back in touch with reality.

Word count: 1,059

Happy early valentines day to all my bruno simps out there, this ones for you :)). Edit: I forgot to add that the reader is gender neutral! Whoops!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. A phrase so simple, so frequently repeated, it feels as if it has lost its meaning.

As the day's inch closer to the fourteenth, cheesy pickup lines like this have been all over the place. Written on cards or in captions of your friend's posts. You don't find any interest in complementary ones. It feels as though they don't apply to you. No matter how many times Bucciarati holds you in his arms, whispering compliments, grazing your lips speaking praises of how beautiful you are, your insecurities remain.

Sitting at your kitchen island scrolling through social media, you waited for Bruno to arrive home. Tonight you will be discussing plans for Valentine's day and how you two will spend it. Maybe you'll bake a cake together and have a picnic, or maybe you'll dress up and visit somewhere fancy.

The front door clicks open as the sound of Bucciarati hanging up his coat and kicking off his shoes fills the silence.

"I'm home," he spoke with an airy tone. He sounded drained, in need of a nap.

You glance up from your phone as he walks into view and stops in his tracks. The two of you meet eyes and smile.

"Welcome home, Bruno. How was your day?"

"Exhausting," he continued to walk towards you, sitting beside you, "better with you in my presence."

Slightly embarrassed by the praise, you turn to face him. Slowly leaning into you, Bruno kissed your lips. When he pulled away, you felt a lingering touch. He rested his arm on the countertop, placing his head in his hand. Dark strands of his soft hair fell smoothly over his face. His eyes seemed to sparkle, perfectly complementing the sweet smile on his lips as he stared at you in wonder.

"Why are you staring?" you asked with an awkward laugh.

"How could I not, amore? You have a glorious complexion. I'm simply admiring it."

"Bruno.." You muttered. He never failed to speak with such ease. You raised a hand to hide your heating face.

Then things changed. The smile you wore fell and you avoided his gaze. Does he really mean the things he says?

"Is something wrong? Did you have a difficult day?" Bruno quickly noticed your change in mood and shot up straight, leaning towards you in concern. His hand hesitated to touch you, leaving it to simply hover below your face.

"Everything's alright, nothing happened," you replied, softly taking a hold of his hand and putting it down to hold in your lap.

"You know I can tell when you lie. Your mood changed."

Ah, right. Bruno's ability to tell when someone lies. You forget about this often, as there is no point in lying in your relationship with him anyway. You trust him with every cell in your body. Although, when it comes to your insecurities, you ca]'t help but wish he would take your white lies as truth.

"It's embarrassing," you said quietly after a pause.

"Amore, I've taken care of you when you were food poisoned. You know I have no judgment for you," Bruno said with a light smile.

You met back with his eyes. He had truth behind his words, that was easy to tell. Why was it so hard to admit to him? It's not that you doubt the compliments he gives you, they just don't seem to apply as much as he insists on. You can't apply his words to yourself.

"I.." you grasped his hand sightly harder, looking back down, "I find it hard to believe the compliments you give me."

"Oh? Do I not say them with enough meaning?" He asked, brows knitting in confusion and concern.

"No no no... it's just, I can't imagine you see me as great as you say you do. It doesn't make sense to me."

"Oh, amore.." He sighed, lightly grasping your face and tilting it to meet your eyes. They were glazed in tears, it felt so hard to admit such a thing.

"I mean every word I say. Your beauty is something I have always been in awe about. It's like Aphrodite herself decided on your features."

"Bruno.."

"You may not see it, but oh I will devote myself to making you see what I see. Every small thing you do I see grace in, even if it's stumbling over yourself. You seem so comfortable, able to amplify a dark place with the sound of your laughter. Every single time you step into a room you turn heads and make people forget what they were doing, so amerced in your beauty and presence. So many people wish to have the ability and features you possess, amore. Trust me on that one."

The way Bruno kept eye contact and spoke with truth behind each word he said brought you to tears. He made you smile, hence bringing you back to your senses.

"You really think that?"

"Darling, I know it."

Tears streamed down your face as you jumped to hug him. Bruno took you into his arms, one hand resting on the back of your head. He kissed your ear and whispered, "I'm so glad I get to experience your beauty every day. It's even more amplified with the way you are, every trait of your personality compliments you so well."

"Stop! Bruno-" you said through tears and laughter, "you're such a flatterer."

He laughed along with you as you playfully hit his back.

"I'm just being honest, tesoro. I must have done something amazing to be able to have you in my arms, to be able to kiss you."

"Aaaaaah!" you spoke with heat rising to your face, hiding in his chest, playfully hitting him.

His praise felt nice after being reassured he means it. You cant help your embarrassment of it though. He can say his words with confidence, no shame at all!

"You absolute goof," Bruno chuckled, standing up, still holding you tightly in his arms.

"How about we go make some dinner? I'm starving," Bucciarati looked at you as if you were the best thing to ever happen to him. And in truth, he saw you as just that.

Taking your face away from his chest, you met his eyes and smiled, rubbing away to your teary eyes.

"Alright, if you say so."

#bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #bruno bucellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #jjba #jjba bruno #bruno x reader #jjba part five #fluff #little bit of angst #kettle.writes

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redtapesworstnightmare · 3 years

Text

thursday evening

In which Eddie comes to several realizations. What to do about it is not one of them.

read on ao3 | word count: 1,175

tags: Fluff, Feelings Realization, Christopher Diaz Has Two Dads, They're In Love Your Honor, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, angsty in the sense that eddie is having Feelings and has no idea what to do about them, But Really It's Just Fluff, Post-Canon, canon-divergent in that ana and taylor are straight-up not mentioned, Oops

By the time Eddie walks in his front door after his shift, he’s about ready to drop right there. No getting changed into sweats, no bed necessary, just a little shut-eye right there on the threshold of his house. Never mind that it’s only dinnertime.

“You look like hell, boy.” Carla greets him with a smile. “Looks like it’s a good thing I fed Chris some dinner. I’ll see you two tomorrow, get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Carla.” Eddie says tiredly, smiling at the quick kiss on the cheek from Carla before she is sweeping out the door, calling a goodbye to Chris that, if Eddie had to guess, is merely a follow-up to one of her goodbye hugs that both Diazes love so much.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, bud,” Eddie greets his son, sitting on the couch behind where Chris has sprawled out on the floor, likely for a while judging by the mess strewn about him. “Have a good day with Carla?”

“Yeah!” Christopher answers excitedly. Really, Eddie was expecting no other answer.

“How about at school?”

“Mostly.” Chris answers, suddenly looking downcast. That answer does surprise Eddie--Christopher looks like he’d hoped to avoid the topic of school altogether. Suddenly Eddie is shoving aside some of his bone-deep exhaustion, replacing it with worry about anything and everything that had possibly gone wrong.

“Only mostly?” he asks. “Care to expand on that, kiddo?”

“Is this one of those times where it sounds like I have a choice, but you actually mean that I have to tell you?” Chris asks, and Eddie feels a smile creep across his lips.

“Only because I care and I want to make sure you’re okay,” he tells Chris. “I’ll tell you what, we can talk about it now, or you can clean this up while I put on some sweats and then we can chat.” Chris mulls this over for a moment before Eddie can see the spark of a decision in his eyes.

“Daddy, would it be okay if I told Buck first?” he asks, and Eddie is taken only a little by surprise.

“Uh, yeah, mijo, I can see if Buck can get on the phone,” Eddie says. “He just got off the same shift I did, though, so you might have to wait a little.” Eddie knows that’s probably not true, Buck has always dropped everything for his son. Actually, Eddie would be surprised if Buck didn’t decide to come to the Diaz house in person. And really, he thought, he wouldn’t fight Buck very hard on that, but he refused to think about why.

“Thanks, Daddy.” Chris says.

“You’re welcome, kiddo. Why don’t you clean this up, and I’ll see if Buck can talk tonight,” Eddie tells Chris, who immediately begins straightening the chaos that surrounds him. Eddie wonders when Buck became such an incentive. He is struck by the realization that he hopes that never stops.

“Eds, miss me already?” Buck answers teasingly, barely letting the phone ring twice.

“While I can never get enough of that face,” Eddie returns in kind, “Chris is asking for you.”

“Did something happen? Is he okay?” Eddie hears shuffling and some jangling, and realizes Buck is probably already grabbing his keys.

“Slow your roll, he’s okay. Something happened at school, and he wanted to talk to you about it first.”

“Oh,” Buck says, and then the jangling returns. “I’m on my way.”

“Buck, you can just get on FaceTime, I know you’re exhausted. You don’t need to battle LA rush hour traffic for this.” The thing about their shifts was that they were often spit back into the world at odd times, and that day’s timing had been 5:30 in the evening, smack in the middle of rush hour.

“Hey, some work tiredness isn’t about to keep me from my favorite Diaz,” Buck says, and now Eddie can hear the shutting of a door and the metallic clunk of Buck’s deadbolt sliding into place. When Buck speaks again, the acoustics have changed, too, so Eddie knows Buck’s in the hallway outside his apartment. “Tell him I’ll be there soon.” Eddie tells Buck he will, and the pair exchange their goodbyes and hang up.

“Buddy, how’s cleanup coming?” Eddie calls, poking his head into the family room. The chaos has lessened, and Chris chirps out a good, daddy! before returning to the last of the tidying. “Buck’s on his way, but traffic will be heavy so it’s gonna be a minute.”

“I thought we were just FaceTiming.” Chris says confusedly, but he’s clearly not upset. He’s never upset where seeing his Buck is concerned.

“He decided he wanted to see that cute face in person,” Eddie tells him, squishing the boy’s cheeks and making him laugh. Eddie never gets tired of his son’s laugh. “I’m going to get myself something to munch on quick, try and get this finished by the time Buck gets here.” Chris nods and keeps tidying. Eddie knows that Chris is a distractible cleaner and it more than likely won’t get done, but the effort is what counts. It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t seen the Diaz house in worse shape. He himself had caused worse chaos with Chris.

Alone in the kitchen, Eddie has time to think for about the second time that day. The first had been in the car on his way to work, and Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d barely gotten a moment with his own thoughts for 24 hours. As he munches on a granola bar, tangerine sitting nearby, Eddie realizes how lucky he is that he’s got someone like Buck. That Christopher has someone like Buck. Always willing to set anything aside for the Diazes. But, Eddie thinks, shouldn’t he be jealous? Shouldn’t it hurt that Chris would rather tell Buck about what’s bothering him? It should. It always stung a little when Chris asked for Shannon over him, and she was his mom. But it doesn’t even feel strange that Chris asked for Buck. They’ve been raising Christopher together for years, it’s no wonder. Sometimes one parent is better equipped for a situation than the other, and Eddie isn’t surprised that Chris already knows who to go to for what.

Oh. Eddie thinks, backpedaling. We’ve been raising a son together. And then a second, more startling revelation: I’m in love with my best friend. He sits on the realizations for a moment, then wonders how he didn’t come to the conclusion sooner. Not after Buck was crushed by a fire truck, not after being buried alive or shot, but on a Thursday evening after a stupidly busy shift, when his son asked for Buck.

“Oh, Diazes!” Eddie hears someone call, and he feels his heart give a familiar skip.

“Bucky!” he hears Christopher cry, and goes out to see his boys. Buck and Chris are in the process of a bear hug and Eddie’s heart melts. Yeah, he’s definitely in love.

The next thing he has to figure out is what on God’s green Earth to do about it.

#9-1-1 fic #my writing #pre-buddie

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

No Idea (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon asked: "yooo sketch was so cute and he was so in character! if you're taking requests could you write a fic where basically all of 1a is at the dorms besides the reader who's patrolling and she gets attacked by dabi and has to fight him off alone meanwhile 1a and dadzawa watch from the dorms via news channel? bonus points for a water quirk reader! you can match the reader up with either deku or bakugou!"

Genre: Action, angst/comfort

Word count: 2,005

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Basically this entire ask is describing just a portion of what I’m preparing for my multi-chapter Todoroki fic that I’ve already teased about for my 500 followers special, you can call it maybe an alternate pathway, or a separate continuity that helps to characterize my OC. And I guess this one is well-timed because I just hit 1K yesterday?? I don’t know how it happened either tbh There will be a special event and a separate mushy post to come, but thank you all so so so much from the bottom of my heart.

This ended up longer than I expected, but that’s okay because I haven’t posted in a few days and I had time today to bang it out in one sitting. I know this request came from a fluff like Sketch, so I hope you also like angst because that’s my specialty ;) (not to mention I was waiting for someone to request something angsty because I’ve had that photo saved and ready to use it for the LONGEST time). Thank you for requesting it anon!

"Kinda sucks being out on patrol on the weekend," I sigh to myself, biting into my taiyaki. "But it isn't all bad I guess."

Mirko had called me out to do a quick patrol this weekend. This part of the city has been pretty quiet lately, and I don't mind showing my face. A few passerby's wave at me and I respond in kind. I like this part of the job, being the hero that everyone knows, respects, and trusts to protect them. It gives me more drive to save them in time of crises.

"Blue!" a middle school girl walks by and waves.

"Hi, Mina," I smile and wave back. "Going home from cram school?"

"Yup!" she flashes me a toothy grin. "Dad's making dinner tonight for once! It's Mom's birthday!"

"That's wonderful," my smile softens. "Wish her happy birthday for me, okay? And get home quick before she worries!"

"I will!" the girl runs off down the sidewalk, waving behind her.

So cute, I think, watching her small figure weave through the crowd of people. I swallow the last bite of my fish treat and continue on my patrol. Thankfully, it's another laid back day: I direct a few lost pedestrians to their destinations, make small talk with more familiar faces, help a few elderly carry groceries to their houses, and the like. I'm content with the mundane flow of a lazy Sunday afternoon.

While talking to a grocery store employee, a sudden explosion in the alley across the street breaks routine.

"Everyone get inside the nearest building or run as far as you can!" I scream out instructions to the citizens nearest to me as I keep an eye on the alley for the next explosion and help anyone within reach to look for cover. That explosion wasn't normal, I know those blue flames like the back of my hand.

Looks like my Sunday stroll is over. I dial on my phone as I thread through the frightened crowd toward the alley. "Mirko san, I might need backup. There's a very high possibility that the League is involved here, but I'll confirm-"

Right when I'm within a few yards of the alley's opening, another bright blue light flashes, triggering the surrounding crowd to scream and run away faster. I assist a few others, waiting for the smoke to clear. A silhouette appears amidst the dark fog, and I know exactly who it is.

"I'm confirming, it's-"

Before I can finish, the shadow stretches out its hand towards me and blasts flames straight at me. Immediately, I put up a water shield in front of me, then start building it wider so the people near and behind me can get away without damage. I already know what happens when something - or someone - touches those dangerous blue flames.

"It's-It's Dabi of the League," I force myself to say, the name burning as it rolls off my tongue. "He appears to be alone."

"Roger. Try to apprehend him by yourself before I get there! I'll hurry over as soon as possible!" my mentor responds and cuts the call.

I make sure everyone within the immediate area is evacuated from the streets, scanning every inch wildly for stragglers. Heat increases around the me suddenly, and darting my head back around shows the fire eating through my water defense without faltering. Before it completely penetrates my defense, I jump over to the side behind a car, right before a giant hole is ripped in my shield.

I catch my breath calling the water back towards me into my water nodes and compartments in my hero suit.

"Looks like you've improved a lot since the last time I saw you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

His menacing yet familiar voice as he drags out my full name sends shivers up my spine. Damn it, of all the villains, I had to face him!

"Aw, don't be shy now, I know you're happy to see me too." His voice moves towards my left. "We don't even get to see each other anymore."

"I'd prefer it that way," I snap, readying myself for another inevitable attack.

"You better give me a good fight, little one."

His voice-!

At the last second before hearing the crash, I jump out from in front of my cover, the intense heat from the blue flames just millimeters from burning my fingertips. Dabi had jumped onto the top of the car, his voice being evenly split in both of ears signalling that he had moved from my left to right behind me in the nick of time or else I'd be ashes.

I finally got a good look at his face. The stitches and staples etched into his face down to his chest and arms are all-too-familiar, along with his raven black hair and turquoise eyes.

"Reminiscing?" his head tilts, gravely voice taunting. "I don't think you have time to do that."

I sprint off and around for more cover as he throws more fire pillars from his hands, trying to find a fire hydrant of water fountain to give me more material to work with. Otherwise, I'm only limited to manipulating what's in the air and the stores in my costume. To my dismay, there's nothing around.

All I have to do is slowly manipulate the water particles around him and condense them over his hands to stop his quirk temporarily. That's the plan in my head that I'm going for. But he's way ahead of me, predicting all my moves and constantly jumping to move away from where I've gathered the water particles and forcing me to start over, leaving me to dodge him and put some distance between us.

"I already know all your plans, you can't defeat me that easily by yourself," Dabi mocks me.

I'm at the end of my rope. It's difficult to keep running and there just isn't enough water in the air to work for a fast attack. I dodge another one of his attacks and wrack my brain to think of a different strategy. My mind can only come up with one all or nothing plan, but if it doesn't work, I'll be done for quickly.

It's a risk I have to take. I slowly start collecting as much water as I can into my suit and immediately around me. Knock him out as quickly as possible, face him head on. I take a deep breath. My body shakes from exhaustion, anticipation, and fear. I'll have to use my body's own water storage to help me, making this plan dangerous.

Right when Dabi's about to burn me at my new hiding spot I jump out and summon all the water I've stored to mobilize. Drown him! A sphere of water forms just around his head. In his moment of shocked hesitation before he strikes, I force the water to go down his airway to suffocate him. He catches wind of exactly what I'm doing somehow, raising his hands to send another blast at me. I summon another set of water from my costume stores to surround his hands to keep the explosion tamed. Come on, fall unconscious already!

But it's curtains for me. He's summoning a larger blast to his hands, neutralizing my watery protection around them and I don't have enough stored up to replenish it. Desperately, I start using up the water inside my body. Damn it hurry up! I can't-!

I feel myself reach my limit just as he completely disintegrates my water seal with an explosion, sending me flying backwards down the street until I roll to a stop. I'm exhausted, I can feel my blood pressure and heart rate dropping, and I'm too weak to try anything else.

Through my dizzied vision, Dabi staggers towards me, coughing and sputtering. "Damn kid, you really almost had me."

It didn't work, I'm a failure. I don't have the energy to say anything back.

"Get your hands off her!" a female voice resounds, and stomps reverberate through the ground.

"That's my cue." I crack open an eye to see him smirk down at me before using his quirk to lift himself off the ground. "Until we meet again, (Y/n) (L/n)." He rocket away without a hitch.

Damn it...

After waking up in the emergency ward attached to an IV for my severe dehydration, Mirko tells me Dabi got away and she rushed me right over to the hospital to treat me since I was unconscious. They won't let me leave until I've replenished all my stores and my urine's clear.

"Also, your teacher's coming to get you," my mentor adds.

Aizawa is going to kill me.

"OI! WHICH ROOM IS IT?!"

Oh for fuck's sake, I know who else is gonna kill me.

Bakugou stomps in, his head trying to be held back by Aizawa's capture weapon to no avail.

"YOU DUMBASS-!" my boyfriend starts off before the scarf comes over his mouth to muffle his screams.

"This is a hospital, control yourself," Aizawa grits at him deathly and walks next to my hospital bed. "I guess you did the best you could, but I won't praise you for almost getting yourself killed. It was a good strategy, it would've worked if you had backup." He pats my head before smirking. "Bakugou was about to cry when you collapsed."

"SENSEI!"

"I'll leave you two alone to talk."

Him and Mirko step outside the room, leaving my high-strung boyfriend to rush me. "Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was, you dumbass?! You almost got yourself kill, look where you ended up...!"

I drown out his screaming, noticing how bloodshot his crimson eyes are from crying. He was so worried about me. I reach my hand up weakly and touch his cheek, cutting his reprimanding screams off short suddenly. If I had the tears to cry, I would. Instead, I offer him a tired, melancholy stare of affection. "I'm sorry," I manage out. "I know I said I wouldn't use up my own body's water, but I didn't want to die, Katsuki."

The aggression melts away from him face and his hand reaches up to hold mine. "I guess it was instinctive," he admits, closing his eyes and I feel him start to tremble. "Why would you face a villain like that alone?"

"I called for backup-"

"You should've stalled for as long as you could!" he sobs out, gripping my hand tighter.

My own body starts to well up, feeling the tickle in my eyes but no tears can escape. "I tried," is my soft reply. "I'm sorry."

Bakugou envelopes my body in his, trembling warmth blanketing me with his high emotions. "What would I have done without you? When I saw you get hit by that explosion, I almost lost it. Did you think about how I would feel if you pulled something like that and didn't survive it?"

I feebly return his embrace, tangling my fingers in his puffy hair to comfort the sobs wracking his body. "I'm here, Katsuki. I could have been in a worse condition, but I'm still here now."

His trembling and cries slow down to a calming end, and he remains wrapping me with his affection. "You did well, except the almost dying thing, I guess. I'm proud of you for holding your own as long as you did against a villain like him."

"Wow, a compliment? You must have really been shaken up," I poke fun at him to lighten the mood.

"I can be nice..." he mumbles into my neck. "You better drink a whole ton of water so we can go back together. Everyone else is worried about you too."

My mind wanders back to Dabi. I'll have to face him again eventually, and he knows what I'll try to do in the future. I'll need to be ready. But until then, I have a hotheaded Pomeranian boyfriend to comfort me from my past and build towards my - hopefully, our - future.

Sequel

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #gender neutral reader #action #comfort #bakugou scenario #bakugou imagine #request #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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cutiepatoodie · 3 years

Text

Floo Powder and Charades P.1

Y/N floo’s to the Burrow after a massive fight with their mother, they find themselves in the middle of the weekly Weasley family game night

Pairing: Fred Weasley x GN Reader

Warnings: abusive mother, angst, also tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2k

Cross posted on ao3

You slam your door and crumple into a ball, silent sobs wracking your small body as you fight to keep them back. The urge to scream rises in your throat and you fight it back, tamping down on your fear to better hide from her. But it doesn’t seem to matter, you can hear footsteps pounding up the stairs, heavily beating in time with your rabbit-like pulse, closing in on your bedroom. And you can feel it automatically kick in, mind working to calculate how long you have before she reaches you, whether you can escape, where you can escape but-

“Y/N L/N get your ungrateful ass down here you little shit.” And you can hear her heavy breaths, dragged in through bared teeth, lips curled in a snarl. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

And you almost want to laugh because this seems like anything but talking.

“After everything, I've done for you and you have the gall to disrespect me? Get out here filthy bitch!” The door rattles as her heavy-handed fist fights to twist the doorknob, violently slamming it back and forth as the locking mechanism holds true. “Open the goddamn door or else I'm knocking it down myself!”

Stumbling away from your door you know that there is no escape. Your mom is going to force her way in no matter what you do to stop her. Fresh waves of tears were making rivers down your cheeks but the idea of wiping them seemed too exhausting, mind already resigned to your inevitable fate. Blearily looking around you remembered the small box you kept on the mantle on the other side of your room that Ron had given you for your birthday. Instinct takes over and struggling to overcome your leaden feet you rise, stumbling to the boarded-up fireplace. Your hands grip the wood and try to pry the boards away, mind desperately catching onto the sliver of hope. This was your only chance to get out of this house. Having to go to Azkaban for improper use of magic at this point seemed better than staying locked up in her house.

The banging on your door was getting louder and more repetitive and as your nails scrabble to find purchase on the aging wood, digging in with the strength of survival fueled desperation. Finally, after what felt like forever you hear a crack and one of the boards break giving you more leverage to take down the rest and you clear just enough for you to climb through.

“What’s all that noise in there? Y/N open the fucking door.” And finally, the lock gives way with a groan as your mother bursts inside, hair tangled and chest heaving, flexing with rage and fury. This is it, she’s finally going to kill me this time. The small box heavy in your hands is the only thing grounding you. The thought of your mother crossing into the only place in the house you felt remotely safe from her taunts and screaming makes your chest tighten, breath leaving your lungs in a panicked whoosh. You can barely feel your fingers as they fumble with the box’s delicate clasp revealing the small amount of glittering powder inside. Throwing the powder into the hearth you choke out a small “the burrow” before being zapped into the floo network.

And even before the flames have properly cleared you can smell farmland, the rich, earthy scent of hay, grass, and freshly turned soil laden underneath the softer scent of warm vanilla, cinnamon and something uniquely home. There were so many voices. Blending together, some words appearing clearer than others.

“Not knowing how to dance!”

“Good one Georgie but I’d say He’s outrunning a Moose!”

“Maybe he’s trying to swat a fly?”

“What if Dad’s trying to play quidditch?”

“It’s probably some muggle thing anyway. Do you know what he’s on about Harry?”

“Uhhh, it could be… Y/N?” Harry yells, astonished, while looking straight at the fireplace where his friend had just appeared.

“What do you mean Harry? Y/N is staying with their mother over the break.” Hermione is quick to reply as silence falls over the living room. Everyone turns towards the fireplace to see you caught like a deer in headlights, disheveled and unexpected in the Weasley’s living room.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know where else to go. I can floo back home. You know what nevermind, I can just leave. Where do you keep the Floo Powder?” You were rambling now going off apologizing for coming in unannounced. You know your voice is cracking and fighting against the fresh sting of tears that prickle at your eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry darling you can be on the twin’s team. Arthur was just about to tell us if we had won or not.” Molly’s voice is so soft and comforting. She gestures to the open spot between her and Fred in front of the couch. Without much thought, your legs bring you there sitting down, back pressed to Hermione’s legs as she reaches down to put a kind hand on your shoulder. Molly pats your knee with reassurance and the game continues.

“All of you were wrong, I was swimming!” Arthur announces, pleased to have won the round.

“If that’s how you swim it’s no wonder we never go to the beach.” Fred chortles, clutching his stomach and leaning into George for support. The familiar tug of a smile pulls at your lips and soon enough you are laughing the tension out of your muscles. As the beams from the setting sun started to cast a peachy pink glow around the room Molly stands up and excuses herself and Arthur to start putting dinner together. A familiar tension grew thick in the room. No one wants to be the one to bring it up but everyone is thinking it so Ron finally speaks up.

“Who’s up for a quick scrimmage in the backyard before dinner? We’ve probably got another two hours before the sun sets.” The seven of you make your way to the shed in the back yard to grab the brooms. Upon reaching the doors Harry pulls you aside.

“Hey, I know I’m not the best with feelings but… if you need anything, from any of us, we’re here.” Harry awkwardly pats you on the back, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks, Harry, but really I’m okay. I’m just stressed about that potions project Snape assigned for us to have done when we come back in April and I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one going crazy over it.” You let out a breathy laugh and Harry can see that the smile plastered on your face in no way reaches your eyes. He looks at you, seeming to weigh the worth of calling you on your shit before relenting with a huff. “Yeah Snape never misses a chance to be a damn prick.” You know that he doesn’t believe you, but it does not matter since he’s not pushing it.

The teams were decided, Ginny, Ron, and Harry, against you and the twins. Hermione was reffing and made sure to agree to settle any fight that came up over scorekeeping. The three on three went on for about an hour before Fred caused a distraction so that you could catch the snitch. Returning down to earth your knees buckled and you decided to lay on your back for a bit before standing up again. Everyone followed suit, laying in the fresh grass covered in drying sweat and a few scrapes and bruises.

“I can’t believe we beat the famous Potter in a game Y/N. You have to tell Cedric that when you go back to practice.” Fred said, lazily punching your shoulder. You didn’t mean to flinch. It was an accident but by how tense Fred was on the grass beside you, it was obvious he had noticed.

“If you’re going to ask if I’m okay, just don’t. You did nothing wrong, okay Freddie?” Your voice felt distant as you tried to reassure the lanky beanpole to your left. You sat up feeling a bit more clear headed and yelled. “I call the first shower!” before running back into the comfort of the Burrow.

The water rolled off your body as your muscles finally were able to relax. The familiar sounds and smells of the Burrow were doing wonders for your anxiety. You poured some soap into the palm of your hand and absentmindedly scrubbed dirt from your skin. While washing your mind began to wander through the events of the day. Thoughts of your mother tried to creep back in but suddenly there was a banging on the door as it swung open.

“Close the curtain Y/n I need to take a leak and Georgie is taking forever downstairs.” Fred called before the sound of a zipper rang through the bathroom. Your heart was pounding as you tried to bring yourself back to the world around you. The toilet flushed and the sound of the sink was barely audible through the beating of your heart. The doorknob started to turn and before your brain could catch up the words were out of your mouth.

“Can you stay?” It came out so softly Fred could have sworn he made it up. His cheeks dusted pink and thank goodness for the obnoxious shower curtain Molly insisted on putting in their bathroom which covered him from your gaze. He cautiously sat on the toilet seat afraid that if he made too much noise you’d try to push him away again.

“Do you want me to ask around for some clothes you can change into? I mean if it were me I wouldn’t want to put my quidditch clothes back on.” Fred scratched the back of his neck staring down at the floor.

“Oh yeah I didn’t even think that far ahead to be honest. I mean if it's okay just like a hoodie and a pair of shorts would be awesome. I’m almost done in here anyway.” Your voice sounded more like you than it had all day. Fred released a breath he did not realize he was holding. He just wanted you to feel safe.

“Yeah of course! I’ll uhh go and grab some clothes and a towel and uhh yeah meet you back downstairs when you're dressed is that okay? I know that you wanted me to stay but I kind of have to leave if you want me to get ya some clothes. Or I mean I can always text Gin and see if she can bring some….” Fred devolved into muttering about what the most effective way to grab you some clothes and not leave you alone longer than is comfortable.

“Freddie it’s okay, I’m not going to break. Your room is right across the hall and I already have a towel in here with me.” Hearing the teasing smile in your voice calmed down his nerves. Why did he feel so nervous anyways. You had been around the burrow for a while and it shouldn’t be making him this nervous. With a quick be right back he slipped out of the door. Grabbing a pair of shorts and his newest Christmas sweater his mother knitted for him last year he padded back to the bathroom. The water wasn’t running anymore so he figured he probably should just set the clothes outside.

“Hey Y/n I’m just gonna put these outside the door. So uhh whenever you're ready I'll see you downstairs.” He placed the clothes in a neat pile and scuttled to the head of the stairs.

Pulling Fred’s sweater over your head made you feel way calmer than you first had expected to. It was warm and cozy and smelled of firewood and smores. It was quite big on you but that did not matter. Drying your hair one last time with the towel you left the bathroom hearing the voices of your friends from all the way down on the main floor. A smile spread to your lips knowing that no matter what happened next did not matter because right now you felt safe.

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #harry potter #harry potter fic #fred weasly fic #fluff #angst #Mays Masterlist

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 16

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/639618035738607616/odins-ward-chapter-15

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 1836

Warnings: Brief mentions of death

True age: Y/n: 1449 // Loki: 1575 // Thor: 1827 // Audunn 3213

Human equivalent age: Y/n: 23 // Loki: 25 // Thor: 29// Audunn: 51

Loki’s POV

The trial is brutal.

In the course of his attempt to save his life, Audunn does everything he can to discredit Y/n. He paints her as a liar, a schemer, the mastermind behind the coup, and at one point, even accuses her of sleeping with his servant, Sveinn.

But she faces it with her head held high and takes none of it, delivering her account of the coup honestly and clearly.

She will make a great queen someday, and I can see by the sparkle in his eye that Odin recognizes this too.

In the end, the evidence against Audunn is too damning, and he is sentenced to death, to be carried out in two days time. It comes a shock to no one, except maybe him, and he meets the verdict with false claims of injustice and conspiracy. He has to be dragged from the courtroom.

Y/n watches him go, flinching slightly when he gives her a look of such hatred, I can feel it in my own bones. Thor — the dutiful fiancé — shields her from Audunn’s view.

After we are dismissed, Y/n disappears, and I resist the urge to go looking for her. She probably wishes to be on her own, and I have no right to offer her comfort, anyway. But fate, it seems, has other plans, and a few hours later, I find her sitting in the gardens, absently staring at a light pink flower.

I have to say her name twice before she notices my presence. She looks up, blinking as if working herself out of a daze.

“Oh, hi Loki,” she murmurs, staring at my shoulder rather than my face.

I’ve never seen her like this. The Y/n I know has always had a bite to her, a spark of passion. But the woman before me may as well be a shell of Y/n, for all the light that is in her eyes.

I’m at a complete loss for what to do.

So, without thinking, I conjure a bottle of wine and hold it out to her, sitting next to her on the bench.

She looks between me and the bottle, and then the clouds in her eyes break and she gives a soft laugh. She takes the bottle and drinks deeply, clutching it to her chest when she’s finished. “We cannot solve all our problems with alcohol.”

I try to study her inconspicuously, still concerned for her state of mind. “Yes, but it can take the edge off.”

She chuckles more freely, taking another long drink. “When I am queen, that shall be the cornerstone of my domestic policy — your children might be starving, but here, have something to drink! It’ll take the edge off.” Then, with a noise between a laugh and a sob, she forces the bottle back into my grasp and drops her head into her hands. “Oh my gods. What went wrong, Loki? How did we mess up our lives this badly?”

I shake my head vehemently. I know I’ve screwed up, but she’s done nothing of the sort. “You’ve not done anything wrong.”

“Haven’t I?” She raises her head, and when she looks at me, I can see her eyes brim with tears. “I fell in love with you when I knew I would belong to someone else.”

I furrow my eyebrows, confused as to why she’s upset about something so out of her control. “You didn’t choose to—”

She raises a challenging eyebrow. “I cheated on my husband with you.”

Does she regret that? I try again to stop her self-berating. “That was my fault, I—”

She begins to talk over me, her voice growing more hysterical with every word. “I let an innocent servant be beaten half to death because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. My people were massacred while I relaxed in the bath—”

“—Y/n please, stop this. It isn’t—”

She refuses to be consoled. “I’ve sent my husband to his death. I looked him in the eye and condemned him! And I will never love Thor. He doesn’t deserve that. I’ve taken away his chance at happiness with Jane, I—my chest hurts — I can’t breathe.” She gasps through panicked sobs.

Without thinking, I place the bottle on the ground and gather her in my arms. She clutches at my shirt, shaking and gasping in shallow breaths. We hold onto each other too tightly, like if we relax even slightly, the other will crumble apart.

“Okay,” I try to soothe, my own voice wavering with worry. “Okay, deep breaths.” We draw in air and exhale together. I bring my hand to the back of her head and draw what I hope are calming lines with my thumb. After a few minutes, she regains control of her breathing and leans further into me, visibly exhausted. I lay my cheek against her hair, grateful that she seems to be through the worst of it but knowing she’s not out of the woods yet — I’ve had enough panic attacks to know how volatile they can be. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

As gently as I can, I stand, pulling her with me. “Come.”

She doesn’t protest when I transport us inside her chambers, though she does look a bit sick at all the movement. I walk her to her bed then bring her a glass of water — something I probably should have provided her with initially, instead of the wine.

“I’m sorry,” she nearly whimpers, sagging against the pillows.

Immediately, I shake my head. “There’s no need to apologize. I…”

Don’t do it, I beg myself. Don’t give in…it will only hurt you both. You are undeserving of her love, and probably incapable of giving it back.

But I have always been selfish. I am unable to stop myself from repeating her words to me from a few days ago, showing just how deeply I have taken them to heart. “I am always on your side.”

This seems to calm her. She sighs contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut. Within seconds, she’s asleep.

I know I should leave. But instead of walking out the door like I planned, I find myself settling on the couch facing her bed. Now that Y/n is settled, I take notice of the exhaustion in my own body — sleep frequently eludes me, too. And, without meaning to, I drift off to sleep.

Y/n’s POV

I awake to the soft peals of bells in the distance and the first rays of the sun. For the first time in while, I feel rested. I did not wake once, it seems, and slept soundly from afternoon to early morning.

There’s a figure lying on my couch.

Loki is too long for the small furniture, so he sleeps curled up, wrapped in his cape. He looks so innocent and peaceful that it makes my stomach hurt, because I know those qualities will flee once he wakes. He’s gone through so much. And yes, a good part of it is by his own hand, but still, I ache with the desire to see him well-cared for and happy and free of the weight he keeps himself under.

As if feeling my gaze, he stirs. He stretches out, groaning softly, then sits up straight, blinking to adjust to the limited light.

We stare at each other for a moment before I gather the courage to speak. “Good morning.”

I feel unsure.

How many times had we woken up together, in much more intimate contexts than this?

But this moment…this moment feels dangerous. It teeters on the edge of something familiar, something we could so easily slip back into….

He swallows, holding my gaze with equal gravity.

Then, he breaks it. “I’m sorry. I should not have stayed.” He gets up, and moves to the door.

But I am not ready to let this moment go, and I call after him. “No—I don’t mind. Please, stay.”

He looks at me over his shoulder, uncertainty in his eyes and…hope?

Unsure what exactly compels me to move, I rise from the bed. I take my time walking to him, fearful that if I move too quickly or too loudly, all this will fade away. When I reach him, I stop just short of our shoes touching.

The words I feel so strongly come out as no more than a breath. “I want you to stay.”

Slowly, hesitantly, and with all the force of a brush of air, he takes my hand in his. “We cannot fall back into old habits.” But even as he says this, he steps closer, bringing up his fingers to twine in the ends of my hair.

I’m unable to stop my free hand from running up his chest. He feels so familiar, so solid, so safe. “We would be terrible people to do so.” Somehow, my lips are now only centimeters from his.

His grip tightens in my hair. “I wish I cared about that.” My fingers brush against his neck, and his lips touch mine.

A sharp knock echoes through the room.

I jump, and Loki closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “Send them away.”

“Yes,” I agree, reluctantly releasing him from my hold and pushing him out of sight. As I walk to my chamber door, I have to blink a few times to steady myself.

Am I really going to do this? Aren’t I strong enough to stop myself?

Do I want to stop myself?

I pull open the door, to reveal a smiling Thor.

Oh gods.

“Thor,” I half-gasp, the excitement and peace I felt just a seconds ago shattering on the ground. “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

He eyes my rumpled dress—yesterday’s dress—with amusement. “I can see that.”

I feel heat gather in my cheeks. “Yes, uh…I was so exhausted after yesterday’s events that I fell asleep in the afternoon and only just woke up a few moments ago. I should call Ragna and dress for the day.”

“Perhaps that would be wise,” he agrees politely. “And after, would you be so kind as to join me in the dining hall? I would enjoy sharing breakfast with you.”

“Oh.”

Because he’s my fiancé.

Fiancé’s spend time together.

Former lovers do not.

Oh, I am awful.

I force a too-sunny smile to my face. “Yes, I would like that as well. I shall be there shortly.”

He bows, and brings the back of my hand to his lips for a kiss.

I’m the worst. The shame makes me feel ill.

I close the door. As much as I dread doing so, it is Loki I must send away. Because he is not my intended.

Gathering my resolve, I turn to search for him.

But he is already gone.

A/n Hey everyone, sorry for the month in between posts! I don’t know why, but I just could NOT get myself to write this chapter! But I finally figured out what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, so here ya go!

Comments, likes, and reblogs mean the world to me! Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list.

Masterlist

Link to next part: To be posted

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99 @what-am-i-doing10 @chxrryycola @ravenclaw5606 @hiddlebatchedloki @jooordanharrrop @marsbarsboy @damondallysodapopstiles @xwackk

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jaeminscoffee · 3 years

Text

Misunderstood | T. Lee

Pairings- Ten Lee x Reader

Genre- Angst, slight fluff,

Warning(s)- Character death.

Word count- 1.88k

Type- requestedddd

It was a whole cat and mouse game at the beginning.

You know how it's always portrayed that all cats and mice despise each other? Well maybe it's because the friend and foe never really go together since they indulge in a much predator and prey relationship. That's how you and Ten's blooming relation started.

Just like any other fable, or the famous cartoon, might as well be a life lesson, Tom and Jerry; Ten and you never got along. You weren't meant to get along. After all, which super agency's top sniper would befriend a wild criminal? Apparently you did. You'd always find yourself letting Ten off the hook each time in the last minute. The lad was fun to have around. And just like any other untold truth of the behinds of a story, the mice in your story was also only just a misunderstood soul. Ten was more than what he portrayed himself to be.

Chasing Ten and catching him, the first glimpse was your mission. Bringing him back to the headquarters dead or alive was your mission. To turn a deaf ear to anything and everything he'd let out was your mission. To heartlessly end him if he pulled a smart stunt was your mission. But having him voice out his thought processes and you gladly listening to the entirety of it was most definitely not your mission.

You'd been known as the top all rounder sniper of your agency, one for your amazing skills, two for your ability to make ends meet, and three for being a kind soul yet thick skulled if the situation called for it. Your boss, the head, of course ended up assigning a very confusing mission to you as, for the matter of fact, were a very trusted pawns of his. It was intriguing yet confusing because you weren't given much insights on why you're asked to serve summons on him.

Ten on the other hand was to this point, tired of running. Hurt. Wounded by having to bear the weights of his family when all he'd wanted was to lead a normal life of his own. To not wake up in cold sweat, fearing for whether his days would shorten the next second. To make it until arvo without anyone, or anything hot on his trail. To make his way back home from his work space; a small corner dance studio where he'd teach the one's who'd not be able to afford trying to learn at those fancy known dance studios who charged way more than what's required, without having someone tackle him to the floor. To sleep after supper without having to wake up every other minute, paranoid whether one of those people trailed him back home and somehow managed to sneak in.

"He's still watching ,you know?" Ten rasped out loud enough for only the two of you to hear his voice which helped you step out of the cloud of guilt for what you were about to do.

You, just as assigned, started immediately. Still confused, of course. The boy seemed little to not harmless at all. But nevertheless, you went about it. Watching the boy feed stray animals on the way, smile brightly at passerby's, buy a drink or two for the hungered on the pathway, keep the dangered ones accompany on a night walk, he seemed like a moral, ideal member for the lacking society, nothing like the heartless murderer he'd been described to be.

"I know, b..but i can't, Ten" you sigh out, shutting your lids tight to clear up your blurred vision.

He seemed to be the only calm in the chaotic, messed up world you lived in. Now obviously, you did try catching him each time only to let him go, thinking of all those out in the streets and beyond waiting for their daily dose of hope in this dark realm. And to keep a close eye on the said predator, of course.

Finding him crouched down by the alley turn towards his usual workplace, you found it a little heartbreaking to continue heartlessly end him. He seemed so.. vulnerable, broke, and nothing like the walking sunshine he'd been since the beginning of your mission and definitely nothing of that of a murderer. He seemed just like the misunderstood feline in all fables who are usually portrayed as the predator and heartless and only wanting to fulfill their needs type. But much matured and smart you'd finally, spiritually understand the personality of the character, hurt, scared, 'does want to care and show it to all but scared to be misjudged again is what they really are.

"Oh? That most definitely wasn't how you felt when you'd first initially pointed the same rifle at me, remember?" Ten chuckles from in front of you, still in the uncomfortable, cornered, back pressed to the brick wall with your left arm on his chest the other pointing straight to the middle of his skull. His retort making you let out an airy, shaky laugh of your own.

The first time you'd done it, your eyes were fueled with determination, you'd get this done and there would be nothing bold enough to dare stop you, except Ten, he was bold enough apparently. "That department store just got mobbed and you're going to stand with a stupid toy gun pointed at me who's not proven guilty of anything? Seems right enough for me that you work as a puppet for that messed up government," your eyes widen at his statement, turning back to see nothing but a tranquil customer filled store, turning back to the lad to find him out of sight. Ten lee had relatively gotten much more experienced and better and running out of sight, "Ten, You drive me crazy," you speak through gritted teeth.

"You were the first one to outrun me, you know?" you lean closer, only to hear your colleagues get their own weapons off safety and ready to fire any second,

"Now, isn't that why you're so drawn to me? Your work would've been so much more boring if it weren't for me, if anything, you're welcome." Ten replied smugly, proud of all his interactions too absurd to be categorized as normal, nevertheless the few of moments in his life that makes him happy thinking back at it. "Tsk," you slightly pout, feeling your eyes glaze over the nth time that night, this would all soon fade into memory and for what? For the fact that no one was ever ready to listen to the wrongly framed.

"Is the target acting hard to surrender, Agent 02?" you hear from your in ear piece, immediately responding with the most stable voice you could muster, "No, Sire, not at all," you reply, "Then why is it taking you so long, Ms. Y/l/n?"

"It's time, isn't it?" Ten asked with a sad smile on his face. All the days of running were finally coming to an end yet he felt like that wouldn't make up to all his lost days. Yes, he was more than grateful to you. For showing something humane exists where no one ever tried caring for what the other does or says. He liked that, though with the choice of path or career that called for some serious human emotion control, you nevertheless wanted to remain human. Ground to earth, and kind enough to valid his feelings. Valid his existence. Valid him and not see him as a target of any sort.

"I don't want to, Ten. I could try explaining this to them-but-"

"But they aren't like you, they work for those on a higher post and won't stop even when given a solid reason to and you know that better than anyone else," Ten explained rather calmly.

"Yes, but you don't deserve this.." You let your voice waver, finally, gripping the deadly weapon tightly, mindful to keep your fingers away from the trigger, "Agent 02, pull the trigger when I count down to 1." you flinch at the sudden voice interrupting the intimate moment between you and your now, friend.

"15.."

"I shouldn't have accepted the tasks, then i wouldn't have had to be the one doing this, and i wouldn't have had to meet you, and right now, at this moment, more than anything, I wish i'd never met you," You scramble through your words to form coherent sentences and the stipulated time you're given,

Ten laughs out a closed mouth laugh, "14.."

"Really? But i don't wish so," He hums, closing his eyes to fully indulge in your warmth. The same familiar warmth that embraced him during one of the most vulnerable nights of his life. The same warmth that kept him company on each day following all while still radiating coldness of suspicion, "13.." which slowly but surely turned into nothing but warmth all after uncoiling what most before you didn't even bother to, "12.."

"It's not that I wish i didn't meet you, it's just i wish we'd met in different circumstances," One where you wouldn't have to go for all the cat and mouse chase all over again, where he'd be, "11.." a normal bachelor and you'd be one too, who'd oh so much in a cliché manner meet at a café,

"Well, we don't get everything we wish for now, do we?" His voice sounded so exhausted, yet, no hints of fear or despise or cruelty shone through. Just exhaustion, and maybe a bit of….relief? "10.."

"Ten, we still have a chance. I can still give it a..-"

"Y/n, look at me."

"You being ready enough, human enough to study me thoroughly before conclusion has been more than enough for me to prove that humanity still exists, that listener still exists. And I wouldn't want anyone, rather you put an end to this little game of ours,``''9.."

"You need to do nothing else other than stay the same, " he started once again, this time, finally allowing his vulnerability to shine through his voice, "8..", "And to do the same you'd done with me with all those potential targets of your people," "But Ten, just-" "7.."

"It's either you or me, doll. Your helpers there look more than ready to shoot any betrayer," "Then so be it! But i can't.. I can't get myself to- I love you, i car-" "6.."

"There. The only words that were left for me to hear," "5.."

"Your people seem generous enough to let me go in this much of a, how do I put it? Grand.. Way?" "Ten I've got 5 seconds to change my mind, I can do something you know?-"

"Y/n, my love. You're making this hard for both of us, so.. "

He did the said stunt move your head had warned you about, swiftly shifting your positions so that you were the one pressed against the unbelievably uncomfortable wall making your eyes widen, words "I love you too, doll" and "Fire!" mixed together, all you could see the next moment was a small smile on the lads face, red seeping through the material of his white hoodie before his now lifeless body slouched and fell right in front of you.

The misunderstood had been deprived of their life once again.

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cyanide-mustard · 3 years

Text

Distraction (Part 1)(Reggie Peters X Reader Fanfic)(JATP)

This is my first time writing/posting a fanfic so please go easy on me but also constructive criticism is appreciated. There will be a part 2, so If anyone would like to be on a tag list for this specific fic or general fics in the future, just send me a message. Anyways, on with the fic!

Description: Reggie wears a new outfit and the reader gets a little flustered and carried away.

Tags: F/M, Bisexual female reader

I’m going to kill Julie.

I came to this decision while we were finishing our last song of the night. Now don’t get me wrong, I love Julie with all my heart. She's an amazing friend, but all I can think about now is how I’m going to kill her. I know she didn’t do it on purpose or have any ill intent, but I’m about to have a stroke, and it’s her fault.

She and Reggie had disappeared earlier in the afternoon, and I hadn't seen either of them until we got on stage, but as soon as I saw them, my heart stopped beating. Julie and Reggie must have decided he needed an outfit change, I’d never tell him, but I thought he looked amazing in what he wore, whatever he wore, though this might have been too extreme of a change for my poor little heart.

When I first appeared on stage, everything was normal. My guitar was in my hands, and I was ready to play. I was stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Reggie. He was wearing a red and black plaid skirt that cut off mid-thigh and his signature leather jacket. I even missed the first couple notes of the song, making the boys look over at me with concern on their faces. I shrugged it off and tried to keep my eyes on the left side of the audience but it was a struggle not to look at him. I was finally beginning to cool down and loosen up when, oh no, Reggie started to make his over to my side of the stage. We stood back to back as we played together; my heart was doing backflips, and my pulse was racing with no signs of slowing down.

Reggie went to his side of the stage once the song eventually ended. I let out a sigh of relief, only to immediately regret it. When he made it back to his side, he took off his leather jacket to reveal a black, sleeveless muscle tee. I pried my eyes from the current target of my spiralling thoughts, knowing that if I let myself stare any longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue, or my lips for that matter. “Get it together,” I said to myself a little too loudly. Alex looked over at me with confusion until he moved his gaze over to Reggie and back to me when the smuggest smirk appeared. I had a feeling that we would be talking about that later. I don’t know what supernatural force decided that I deserve to be punished like this. I never did anything too bad while I was alive. Sure I told my fair share of lies and maybe I did some less than angel-like behaviour, but nothing bad enough that would ever make me deserving of this toture. I'm pretty sure that when I died, I went to hell. I went to Hell, and watching Reggie in his current outfit was to be my punishment for eternity. And as torturous as this was, the worst part is that I can’t touch him and that I never would be able to. He’s too involved in my life for me to risk telling him about my feelings and them being unreciprocated. He’s helped me through thick and thin and has always been there to help me in my time of need. I would never be able to live with myself (while I guess I didn’t since I was dead) if I ever ruined the relationship I had with him and the band.

We played the rest of the set with minimal errors from me. Thankfully the knowledge of my feelings towards Reggie was kept just to Alex, though Julie gave me a look every so often that made me feel like she knew exactly what was happening. ‘We’re almost done’ was the mantra I had been repeating to myself the whole night, then we finally were almost done. I grabbed a drink of water in passing as we moved onto our last song of the night, ‘Edge of Great’.

As we played through the song, Reggie made his way to me again, but instead of going back to back like he normally did, he brought his face close to my mic to sing with me. He was close enough that I could practically taste his cologne on my tongue, thick and suffocating, but sweet all the same. The smell of cinnamon burned my nose, but I liked it. As one of the stage lights fell on us his pupils dilated, and I tried to take in every detail of his face that I could. It reminded me that this moment was real and that I’d always have this memory. I marvelled at the fact that I was still able to stand up straight because of how intensely my legs shook beneath me. I felt light-headed, almost to the point that I thought I would pass out. I chalked it all up to adrenaline and the two red bulls I drank before the show. I started to get lost in my reckless thoughts. I thought of how good his lips might feel on mine. Would he bury his fingers in my hair or keep them on my waist? On that note, how would his hands feel? Would they still feel soft despite the calluses he definitely had from years of playing bass? Would he mark my neck with hickies, or would he just leave my lips bruised and swollen? Would his moan sound just as sweet as his singing, or would it be dark and heavy? I cursed myself for being so reckless with my imagination.

Can ghosts pass out? I didn’t get time to think about that cause he somehow moved even closer to the mic, subsequently closer to my face. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any closer to me without touching me; he was so close that I could see all the little freckles splattered across his face. I would never tell him this but I loved the freckles on his nose; they somehow made him look cute and hot at the same time. One day, I would love to trace all of them with my finger, count and memorize the placements of each freckle. I could also see all the little flecks of colour in his eyes, cascading out into a kaleidoscope of blue and green that made me weak in the knees. I, for the life of me, could never figure out what exact colour his eyes were. I’d contemplate if they were blue with a green overlay or vice versa, or maybe one flat colour with an undertone, but his eyes would always shift with the light, so I could never be sure. I would be content if the rest of my life (or afterlife I guess) was just dedicated to figuring out what colour his eyes were. We were on the last couple lines of the song, and I was still just staring at him, anchored to his eyes, eye contact unbreaking as if my life depended on it, which it kind of felt like my life did depend on it. I finished the last note of the song, and my eyes stayed glued to his for a minute before leaving to look at that crowd. I think the reason I stopped looking at him was because deep down I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kissing him if we kept staring at each other with this intensity .

We all quickly bowed to the crowd before we disappeared, earning a gasp of shock from the audience before they resumed clapping. We poofed into the side alley on the side of the building.

“We were amazing, guys!'' Reggie exclaimed and we all laughed at his excitement.

“How should we celebrate?” Alex questioned.

“We could go to that club a few blocks down, I heard it’s pretty cool,” Luke suggested, causing me to pale at that idea, don’t get me wrong I loved clubs and dancing but the last thing I wanted to do was watch Reggie drool over other girls.

“I think I’m going to head home guys. I’m tired and I don’t think I could do any more walking or even standing up,” I said.

“Are you sure? That’ll mean you don’t get to dance with me, the master of dance.” Alex jokingly nudged me in the ribs, but I could pick out a concerned lilt to his voice.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted. I’ll miss dancing with you so I’ll make an IOU.” I responded. The boys began to walk down the street as Alex told them that he’d catch up to them in a second. He turned to me and accusingly said “I know”.

“Know what?” I tried to play dumb but he saw right through it.

“Your crush on Reggie, obviously.” Alex placed a firm hand on his hip, tilting his head in a manner that told me he’d known long enough to have grown exasperated.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised I didn’t notice it earlier. I’m more surprised that only Julie seemed to catch on, Luke and Reggie really are oblivious.” We shared a giggle at that, and then I took a breath to collect myself before responding.

“You can’t tell anyone, Alex. I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

“I won’t, but they can only be so oblivious for so long,” Alex said, and deep down, I knew there was truth to his words. “Especially if you keep looking at him like that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’ll be fun, plus I’ll miss your company,” he reiterated for the third time, and I decided that this time I would tell him the truth.

“Yeah no, I’d rather not be forced to watch Reggie flirt and dance with all those other girls, even if they can’t see him it still hurts to watch.”

Alex's face contorted to one of pity before he gave me a hug, lingering as he spoke softly. “Ok, I’ll see you when we get home.” Alex then turned, jogging to catch up with the boys.

Ughh, what was I going to do.

Tag list:

@unihedgehog22

#julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #reggie x y/n #reggie x reader #reggie peters wears a skirt and looks hot in it #reader insert #jatp fanfic #bi reggie

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neverendingstories00 · 4 years

Text

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)

Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: n/a

A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.

As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.

“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-

Oh right. There weren’t coming.

“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”

Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”

You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.

“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”

Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.

You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

He responds, “Take your time.”

Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.

Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.

“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.

As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.

The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.

Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.

“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.

No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.

“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.

“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.

Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.

You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”

“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”

A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”

“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.

Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.

“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.

“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”

“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”

Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.

“So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”

Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”

“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”

Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.

“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”

In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.

Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”

“ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.

“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face. He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.

Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.

Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.

“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”

“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.

“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.

The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.

“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”

“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”

He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.

Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”

You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.

“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.

Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”

The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.

So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.

Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.

“More like a thousand years.”

“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”

“And when I do?”

“The next day will be your wedding day.”

Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.

“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”

You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.

“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.

He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.

You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair. Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.

“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”

Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”

Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

#rami malek x reader #safin x reader #safin #rami malek #no time to die #james bond #my writing

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vampire-named-gampire · 3 years

Text

Carry On Countdown - Day 8

Hello! Here’s my fic for the @carryon-countdown. It’s longer than what I’d usually post on tumblr, but I haven’t really decided if I want to continue it or not and I don’t really have the time to decide since uni is kicking my butt this week. It’s un-beta’d so sorry for any grammar mistakes or just general messiness of it

Prompt: Rain Word count: 1669 Rating: Teens and up Summary:

Baz drags Simon out to play football, despite the stormy clouds looming above them.

SIMON

Baz insists that I play football with him. He says it’s so that he doesn’t get out of practice, but I know it’s because he’s trying to assure I get enough exercise. Apparently, it’s good for depression.

I do usually feel a bit better after our games, so I haven’t said no yet. (Even though he beats me every time.) Plus, sometimes it’s easier to compete with him than it is to be soft and do all that romance stuff, so I think it actually helps us. A bit.

I mean, it’s still hard sometimes. Being touched. Being kissed. But football is almost like fighting and we all know fighting makes things easier for me. Besides, Baz looks beautiful on the pitch. And he’s brilliant at football. And when he gets sweaty, he wipes his face in his shirt and I’m usually left staring at the faint trace of muscles in his stomach. (This must be a vampire thing – I’ve never seen him do crunches.) (Maybe he does them in secret.)

I think he’s noticed me staring and he does more of that on purpose now. I’m not complaining. I’ve stopped complaining about our football matches too.

Well, except today. The sky is grey and heavy with clouds and this is England, so it’s definitely going to rain. Baz knows this, yet he’s still dragged me out to the football field. Honestly, when I see him in shorts and a tight, Under Amour turtleneck under his t-shirt, I nearly stop complaining.

Nearly.

“We’re going to get soaked,” I announce as we get out of the car. Somehow, the sky has gotten even darker on our way from my flat to the football field.

“You’re not made of sugar, are you?” Baz says, grabbing his football ball.

“I’m going to leave puddles in your car. You wouldn’t like that.”

“I’ll spell you dry. Or I’ll make you sit on a towel.”

Damn, it was worth a try.

“Look, we have the whole field for ourselves,” Baz says as we pass the squeaky metal door onto the football field. It really is completely empty – usually, there are multiple groups playing at once on one field and it drives Baz up the wall. He says half of the blokes who come here don’t even have a basic grasp of ball control.

“Yeah, because everyone else is reasonable and can see that it’s going to start pouring any minute now,” I huff.

“Listen, if it starts raining, we can always go back. Now come on, warm-up.”

He makes me do warm-ups too. Five laps around the pitch and then some quick stretches. The first time we went, I was near death by the third lap, which is ridiculous, considering I used to fight monsters. (I guess a year of lying on the sofa will do that to you.)

The first time we went, I nearly doubled over at the sight of Baz stretching his calves. That hasn’t changed. My ability to run has. I can now almost keep up with Baz’s human speed, although he does sometimes tap into his vampire powers just taunt me. (As if his long legs weren’t enough.)

Getting better at running makes me feel slightly better about myself. Like my life is moving forward – like I’m actually improving at something. (I’m not. I used to be faster, stronger – I’m merely getting some of myself back.) And it usually helps me sleep.

Once Baz deems us sufficiently warmed up, he passes me the ball.

“What do you say, Snow, do we play across the whole field?” he asks. Sometimes he’ll teach me some technique after warm-up, but today, we’re apparently going straight to the game.

“Okay, but you can’t use your vampire strength.”

“When have I ever used my vampire strength?” Baz feigns being offended. I roll my eyes.

“I could think of a few instances.”

“I can beat you even without the vampire strength, love,” he smiles. “Come on. You can start.”

Playing across the whole field is exhausting. I finally manage to steal the ball from Baz, but it feels like it takes me forever to sprint across the pitch and towards my goal. Baz tries to steal the ball back, but the tip of my tail is pressed against his chest, holding him at distance. Huh. This has never happened before. Usually, I tie my tail around my waist when we play, but that’s uncomfortable so I just untied it when I saw nobody was on the pitch.

Still, it’s helping me. If it wasn’t for my tail, Baz would’ve stolen the ball from me already.

“If I can’t use my vampire strength, you can’t use your dragon parts either,” he calls just as I send the ball flying towards the goal. The net shakes. Score!

“I’m going to let you have that one, just because I know I’ll still beat you,” Baz says, jogging to get the ball.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, darling!” I call after him, even though I am pretty sure he’s going to beat me. He always has.

The first raindrops fall just as we get back into the game.

“Do you want to keep going?” Baz asks as he dribbles the ball, effortlessly avoiding all my attempts of stealing it from him.

“Yes,” I say, trying once again to snatch the ball from him. It’s hard work, especially when I’m also trying to keep my tail in check.

Not even a minute later, it’s full on pouring. My shirt is clinging to me, cooling me down, and Baz’s hair is falling around his face in wet strands. He must be cold, but he keeps playing, confidently leading the ball towards his goal.

I chase behind him, trying to block him, or whatever it is that I should be doing, but the grass is wet and I don’t have posh wanker football shoes like he does, so I end up slipping, knocking both of us over in the process.

He ends up on his back, with me half on top of him.

“Ouch, Snow! This isn’t American football, you’re not supposed to tackle people, you know?” Baz immediately starts complaining.

“It was an accident!” I say, rolling off of him, so that I’m also on my back.

“Troll’s arse, it was. This deserves a penalty kick at least. Maybe two because you got my shirt all muddy,” he laments. I roll my eyes at his theatrics.

“Nobody’s stopping you from getting up and spelling your shirt clean,” I say.

“I am severely injured. I might die any second.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re a bloody vampire,” I laugh.

“So this is how it ends; a Chosen One straight to the chest.”

I’m beginning to get worried, but he lets his head fall in my direction and I see a teasing smile stretched across his face. The tosser is just messing with me. Of course he is.

“You’re a git, you know that?” I growl, grabbing him by his waist and pulling him closer to me. He barely has the time to react before I kiss him.

I’ve kissed Baz before, many times, but snogging on a football field in the middle of a downpour is new. He’s cold – too cold – and I pull him on top of me. Baz makes a sound of surprise against my lips at that and I think he might pull away, so I tangle my hands in his hair, holding him closer. I’ve never touched his hair when it’s wet before. It slips through my fingers with ease and clings to his face.

I think Baz has worked through his surprise now, because he catches my lower lip between his teeth and tugs at it, his hand travelling down my side and settling on my hip. My shirt is so wet there’s almost no friction to his movement and it feels amazing.

I try running my own hands up and down his back and it makes his breath hitch. Moments later, his lips are by my ear, kissing and nipping at my earlobe.

“Is this okay?” Baz whispers, his breath so close to my ear that I can hear him despite the rain. Usually, this is the point where I’d start feeling panicky and uncomfortable, but today is different, for some reason. Maybe it’s the thrill of it all – I mean, kissing in a rainstorm is proper hot. I nod feverishly and I can hear him smirk against my ear before he starts kissing down my neck.

I take the opportunity to slip my hands under his shirt because if I’m feeling confident today, I might as well use it. Baz loves it when I run my hands up and down his stomach, so I do just that. (I don’t do it often enough. Usually, I’m scared.)

His reaction makes me forget why I was ever scared to do so in the first place. He practically melts against me, a small gasp escaping his throat before he comes back up and starts kissing me with even more vigour. It’s so good, it’s so good, it’s so good.

Thunder rumbles in the background and Baz pulls away. I look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, scrambling to his feet.

“What?” I sit up, still trying to comprehend his sudden change of pace, anxiety rising up in my chest. Did I do something wrong?

“Thunder, Snow. We’re in an open field. It’s not safe.”

“Oh.”

He offers me his hand and I let him pull me up. Then he kisses me again, like he can’t resist himself. (He probably can’t.)

“Can we…” I fumble, trying to find my words. I expect Baz to jab at me, but he just waits while I compose my thoughts. (I should snog him more often if it makes him stop being a prick.) “Can we, uh… continue this at home?”

His lips curl into a smirk and he takes my hand.

“You know we can.”

#carry on countdown 2020 #coc 2020 #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #snowbaz fanfiction #my writing

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