#<- I don’t want Harlan seeing this post

[the-fear]

hiiiii :3

i read tags on that post you reblogged for me and i agree that its most likely that kayne is nyarlathotep since it'd pretty much align with cthulhu mythos - it often takes human form to walk the earth and it's character is pretty similar to kayne's. It also acts with seemingly no particular goal again just like kayne! and i can't really think of any other gods in cthulhu mythos that would fit him so well

also I'd love to hear more about that theory of yours ^_^!!!!!!

Aw thanks for asking about this! :D

{Putting this under a cut because this is a lot of information. It’s pretty condensed but still quite long}

Please take in mind that this theory only just popped into my head when I read the post, so this has more holes in it than Emmental cheese.

I was thinking on the fact that Harlan’s post mentioned explicitly that Kayne’s identity will be addressed in season 4, and I was wondering what other things have been added to the podcast this season. Most notably are the characters (Oscar, the Butcher, Daniel, etc. - Noel is a Very Close Contender for being Kayne for me), but we’ve also had some other things at least slightly confirmed. Probably one of the most important things that have been confirmed it the time dilation.

I seem to remember that there were quite a lot of theories around time loops and similar phenomena (I think a few were on @ty-betteridge’s blog but I can’t find the posts for some reason). With Scratch’s apparent ability to live longer in dreams than in the real world, eldritch time dilation is basically canon, as far as we know. This could further open the door to other time-related shenanigans, including time loops, to be canon as well.

It’s also been mentioned in the time loop posts that John could in fact be a future Arthur (I may have got this wrong because it’s been a long time since I caught up on the theories). I personally don’t see that (I don’t know how that would fit in with the KIY stuff) but I do really think there’s going to be some stuff involving timeloops and Arthur and John.

Anyway, enough of that ramble! Let’s get back to the important part: who is Kayne?

I 100% believe Kayne is Nyarlathotep - or at least one version of him. Maybe not the one directly from the Lovecraft source material, but definitely an entity that shares the same role as him in the story. Especially with the common description of Nyarlathotep as “joyous”, and we can defintely say that Kayne is enjoying himself with Arthur’s story.

I say that Kayne may not be entirely based on Lovecraft’s Nyarlathotep, because that entity is described as an Outer God, and this theory hinges on the fact that Kayne’s origin is something much closer to home.

So what are some things that we know for sure about Kayne / Nyarlathotep?

From Lovecraft’s source material: his description tends to be of a “tall, swarthy man” but it’s often noted that he can shapeshift.

From the podcast: he has no canon appearance apart from wearing a black suit (and other details), as described by John in part 20. He is also noted to be playing piano in his first appearance.

He also has an Extreme interest in Arthur’s life, as far as to having “watched [Arthur’s] life unfold”. He wants to find out what’s “different” about Arthur compared to other people.

So here’s my theory:

Kayne is Arthur (+ John) from the future.

If you’re thinking that’s a slightly far fetched, I agree! There are several problems with this theory that I need to iron out. I’m replying to this ask because I hope other people can add to this theory, correct me on things that I got wrong, share some more stuff about Nyarlathotep, etc.

One question with this theory is that surely John would recognise Kayne if he looked like Arthur? Well, that’s already got an answer - Kayne can shapeshift, so probably changed his appearance to throw John off his scent. That might also explain the difference in accent between Arthur and Kayne: Future Arthur!Kayne is trying to be incognito, he doesn’t want Arthur and John to find out who he is.

Another question is why is Arthur!Kayne doing this? The motive I think Arthur!Kayne has is pretty evident: he wants to find out what makes him different, what allowed him to become Kayne. We’ve already been told that Arthur is different to most people in that he can hold a piece of the King in Yellow in his mind without succumbing to their will (compared to Marie’s sister, who was taken over completely by Mr Scratch, and the people who did not survive John’s book). Perhaps this difference allowed Arthur to become Kayne (remember that Kayne discusses hearing voices too, perhaps in a similar manner to John + Yellow in Arthur’s mind). Maybe what sets Arthur on the path to becoming Kayne is… accumulating other parts of Gods? Mr Scratch maybe - Arthur might be strong enough to keep charge of his body and Scratch just lives in his mind like Yellow did (if his plans with the stone go badly).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 48

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You calm the baby as your own tears dry up. She doesn’t deserve misery even if you’re cursed with it. Maybe that’s what you should try, to save her from the same. If you can.

You get her to sleep at last and fall back onto the bed, weak with cheeks like crepe paper from crying. You stare at the ceiling as the window darkens as the night approaches. You knew deep down Lloyd wouldn’t be gone forever but that eventuality could never prepare you for his return.

Your eyes drift closed as you lay sideways on the mattress, too lazy to drag yourself up to the pillows. How pathetic are you. Feeling sorry for yourself because the obvious happened. Because that scum ran off like the cowardly dog he is. You knew from the moment you met him who he was so you can't pretend to be surprised.

There’s a tap on the door. You tense but your sense keeps you from panicking. It’s too gentle to be that jackass. You know he doesn’t have much in that thick skull of his but you hope he knows better than to try anything tonight.

“Sweetheart,” Harlan’s voice seeps through the door like molasses, “if you’re asleep, don’t worry, I just wanted to check in.”

You swallow and sit up. You prefer him to his wife or son. There’s a twinge in your chest as you realise you missed him. Of anyone, he’s been your only true companion. Not some erstwhile comfort or momentary escape.

You get up and open the door. The tall man stoops just below the lintel, his thick white facial hair catching your attention. Everything happened so fast, you hadn’t noticed it. His usually clean shaven face is slightly haggard with his exhaustion.

“Hey,” you greet him in a half-whisper, the quiet of the house makes even that seem loud, “wanna come in?”

“Sure,” he accepts and ducks inside as you hold the door. You shut it behind him as he smooths his grown out locks and peers around with a bashful posture. 

You come around him and stop by the bassinet, looking in at the dozing infant. You put your hand on the canopy and lift your chin, “you wanna see her?”

He hesitates, reaching to rub his neck, “I came to see to you first,” he intones, “I can’t imagine it’s been easy.”

“Me?” You scoff, “you don’t have to lie. You can hold her, she’ll just fall back asleep,” you move to reach into the bassinet and he nears, putting his hand out but not touching you.

“No, I mean it, I’m not gonna ask how you are ‘cause I know. But you’re my daughter and I wasn’t out there for just that bastard. I didn’t run halfway across the god– across the world for that moron,” he sniffs, “come on, let her sleep.” He pauses and glances down, lips curling slightly at the sight of his granddaughter, “she’s even more beautiful than I recall.”

He waves you away from her and you sit on the edge of the bed. You sit in silence as you watch his lingering gaze on the baby. Maybe, if he can look at her with that much love…

“You got questions, I’ll answer them,” he moves away from the bassinet as he sits beside you, “and if you don’t wanna talk about him, fair enough.”

You nod and look at the floor. You don’t know what you want. It doesn't really matter where he was. It matters that he left and that he stayed away. He confirmed every doubt you carried for nine months.

“Not about him,” you shake your head, feeling the sting return to the brim of your eyes, “but… did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?”

“You called me your daughter,” you look at him meekly, “is that really what you believe?”

“'Course,” he snorts, “Dottie may’ve never given me a girl but the world did and they did a good job.”

Your cheek pinch and you fight back tears, “I don’t think you’d want me to be your daughter if you knew.”

“If I knew what?” He watches you, no judgment, no expectation. If you don’t tell him, you know he won’t ask again.

You hang your head and cross your arms. You close your eyes as you pick out the words, “I… found someone else. Just… just to waste the time. I wasn’t going to wait any longer for him.”

He hums and takes a long breath, “well, I know now and I don’t feel any different.”

You clamp your lips together and you glance at the bassinet. You hear the baby babble. You shudder and let your hands fall into your lap.

“There’s something else.”

“There is.”

You sniff and cover your face. You don’t know if you can say it out loud. It keeps you awake at night, it eats you alive, and it wakes you every day with a wail.

“The baby…” you slide your hands away from your face, “I’m trying… so hard.”

“She’s healthy, you’re doing good, sweetheart,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t–” you nearly choke as a lump rises to your throat, “I can’t love her. I try and I try and I can’t. I can’t even say her name.”

He nods and chews on your confession. You won’t look at him. You can’t face his disappointment. You can’t bear to see in him the same hatred you feel for yourself.

He startles you as he reaches over and puts his large hand over yours. He pulls it away from your lap and sidles closer on the bed. He holds your hand tight and leans his arm against yours.

“The only thing that upsets me about that is you lying,” he says, “because if you didn’t love that little girl, you wouldn’t be so worried about not.”

Your lip temples as you stare at the wall. No, he doesn’t understand. He can’t.

“I don’t… I can’t feel it–”

“You’ve been surviving and you done that for her as much as yourself,” he lets go of your hand and lifts his arm up onto your shoulders, “you ain’t got the chance to feel. Now you do, sweetheart.” He draws you into an embrace, “you don’t gotta take care of no one but you. I’ll deal with that brat I raised.”

You sniffle as your tears well over. You can’t stymie the flow once it starts. Harlan rests his chin lightly on your head as you curl into his shoulder and sob quietly, clinging to the front of his shirt. As your knuckles press against his ribs, he winces and lets out a wheeze.

You flinch but he doesn’t let you go, keeping you close.

“Harlan,” you croak, “you’re hurt?”

“I’m just fine,” he assures you as he rubs your back, “let me tell you, I dealt Marion a worse blow.”

You laugh through your tears at the thought of it, “did you really?”

“A nice one square in the chops just for you,” he avows, “another across his big dumb nose for baby Luna, too.” 

Your lips tug at the image playing in your head and the snipe about Lloyd’s nose, the most defining feature he shares with his father. You don’t know if Harlan meant to be funny but you it eases the weight in your chest. You gently pull away and look up at your father.

“Will you hold Luna?” You ask as you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, “she’s missed you so much.”

[tinned-beef]

Allison Hargreeves is being unfairly vilified?

Allison Hargreeves as in 'SA'd Luther' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves as in 'confirmed Viktor's worst ongoing fears and anxieties just because Viktor was grieving his friend/stepson and it annoyed her' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves 'contributed to the deaths of two of her siblings' Allison Hargreeves? Allison Hargreeves 'nothing anyone else has lost over the course of this nightmare matters as much as what I lost so I'm gonna fuck everything up potentially irreparably' Allison Hargreeves?

That Allison Hargreeves? I mean don't get me wrong I like her but she's very much a villain right now. She's an interesting villain, a compelling villain, a better villain than Reggie since we actually know wtf her problem is and we wish things hadn't turned out this way. But a villain all the same.

i don't think allison is a villain. at best, i'd say she's an antihero. at worst, she was a catalyst for viktor's arc in season three.

i would like to start by saying that i'm not defending allison's actions. i think what she did was wrong. however, i don't think she deserves all the hate that she's gotten. she's a character that is very morally gray, and people continue to paint her in solely black or white.

what i try to convey in this... very long post is that there's a reason for what allison does in season three. the question of if she’s a villain or not can be debated, but i believe that the reasons for her actions don’t make her a villain.

a big reason why the umbrella academy is such an incredible show is that all the umbrellas are flawed and nuanced, and despite it all they love. all of the umbrellas have their faults, and allison is no different.

in season three allison has lost all hope. she thinks she will never see her child again, her husband is dead, the world is ending, and to her it seems like her siblings don't give a shit. amidst all the chaos and the whirlwind of her life, she needs something that she's used to. something she knows how to navigate.

so she turns to luther. and she gets the comfort she's looking for but it's not right.

allison and luther's relationship is something that has been a topic of many debates in this fandom. i don't really want to get into it right now, but they've always been a person of comfort to each other. allison wants to feel loved and cared for, and she thinks she can get that comfort from luther.

allison is naturally selfish. she's used to getting what she wants. she's used to having the world at her fingertips. and yet almost everything she's held close to her heart has been ripped away from her. and she's never getting it back.

in season three she falls back onto her old habits, rumoring people left and right with no consideration for others. it makes sense because it's the only way she knows how to get what she wants.

and then she rumors luther. she doesn't want to lose him either, and she thinks that he's choosing sloane over her (which is true, but she thinks he's leaving forever. she thinks she'll lose him too). but she almost instantly realizes what she's done, almost instantly tries to take it away.

as for her relationship with viktor, that's another can of worms. in season one, allison is the only one really trying to mend that relationship with viktor. but it's a rocky road. allison snaps at viktor, viktor snaps at allison. these two have had tension from the very start. eventually, that bond had to snap.

at the start of season three, viktor is the only one that really tries to help allison. he stands up for her, and comforts her after she returns from la. but by episode three allison is so consumed by her grief that she's already clashing with viktor.

and when harlan makes an appearance, it just gets worse. harlan is like a son to viktor. someone viktor can care for. and when viktor turns that care and attention away from allison and instead towards harlan, it hurts. why is viktor allowed to have his child when allison will never get to see claire again?

in season three luther tells viktor that allison has “always been good to you (viktor)”. but there comes a point where your love and gratitude towards someone can morph into bitterness and hate.

the reason i say allison is a catalyst for viktor in season three is because the writers needed someone to contest his ideas. someone that will create a struggle for viktor that he will ultimately come out of with a new lesson learned. and allison is a great contender for that position. the show needs conflict in order to have an engaging story at all, and tense relationships between the siblings can be seen throughout all three seasons. (luther and diego in season one, ben and klaus in season two)

as for the deaths of her siblings, do you really think she wanted that to happen? she doesn’t want to lose any more people, that’s the main driver of her character shift in this season.

allison turns towards reginald because she sees it as the only option left. klaus does the same thing, so why is it any different when allison does it? she didn’t know her siblings would die in the process.

allison isn’t even the only sibling that has contributed to a sibling’s (almost) death. viktor slashes her throat in season one, ben sacrifices himself to save the world, and luther willingly walks into the room to talk to reginald. how is that allison’s fault?

i think this is also why five gives his talk to viktor, not allison. he understands what allison is going through on some level, understands the despair of losing those who are close to you. understands being willing to do anything to get them back. even though he quite loudly disagrees with allison making a deal with reginald, it's because he knows she's getting tricked. reginald never had their best interests at heart.

they’ve all lost people, and they all react to that loss in different ways. in season 1, when diego finds that patch was killed, he instantly wants to go for revenge. he plans on going after hazel and cha cha but five inevitably talks him out of it.

allison doesn’t have that influence. in fact, diego suggests to instead let that grief out through anger. i don’t think it was a very good solution in the end.

and despite all that, she wants to redeem herself. she tries to tell viktor the truth, she admits that she made the plan for all of them. she kills reginald and she’s the one that pushes the button at the end of season three. there’s so much left that we don’t know. did allison know what would happen when she pressed the button? did she know what reginald’s real plan was?

but in the end, allison is the reality of a person who has lost those who are closest to her. it’s probably the best job the writers have done while showing trauma and grief. i don’t think allison is a villain, and i think that accusing her of solely caring about herself is unfair.

[foxgloveprincess]

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You didn’t mean to catch Ransom’s attention, and you’ll do whatever it takes to lose it. 

Word Count: 8.1k

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Dubious Consent (Kissing, Blow Job, Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Mild Degradation/Humiliation, Praise Kink), Coercion (Payment for Sex), Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Yandere Vibes, BDSM (Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Aftercare, Leather Cuffs), Pet Names (dear, birdie, pidge). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue it! Up next is A.W.A. Meeting (#2), then hopefully Lloyd. 

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

The song has been stuck in your head all day. Soft and sweet and romantic, it buzzes past your lips in a quiet hum while you end your work day by tidying your space.

“You know,” Harlan says as he leans back in his chair, contemplation narrowing his stare, “my offer still stands to make you my full-time personal assistant.”

You sigh and continue to clean up your papers, clipping them in neat packets for easy access when the research becomes relevant. “And you know I have other commitments.” You glance over your shoulder with a grin and shrug. “I can’t leave Chase hanging.” You snort at the unintended pun and continue working. Your hand brushes a spec of fuzz from the corner of your table, leaving it immaculate.

Harlan makes a noise of agreement and sits up before standing. “Well, if things ever change.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” you agree. The final clip snaps onto your last packet. “Now,” you address your boss with a playfully stern finger pointed in his direction, “don’t mess this up.” You nod toward the space set aside as your desk. Pens, post-its, and papers neat in a row.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye, and you know you’ll be reorganizing on Monday morning, but you don’t mind. Not when Harlan’s done so much for you, and you know he’ll inevitably make your job easier somehow.

The dogs start barking outside. The front door slams and heavy steps thud toward the kitchen. No greeting, no real indication of who it might be. But you’ve worked in the Thrombey house long enough to make an educated guess.

“Looks like your grandson’s paying you a visit,” you muse while packing away the last of your belongings. “Don’t tear each other to pieces, alright? I still need this job at the end of the weekend.”

Harlan chuckles and shakes his head. He’s a good man, kind but indomitable. You admire him a moment longer. Fond warmth reflects back at you in his gaze. You’ll never forget how lucky you were he decided to take a chance on you.

“Goodnight,” you bid with a smile.

Harlan sends the same after you as you turn to the stairs, waiting for his grandson to make his surely dramatic entrance. The Go board already in hand. You wonder if he will take his grandfather up on the challenge.

Passing Marta and Fran on your way out the door, you say your farewells. And you almost make it out before coming face to face with the notorious ass—Hugh Ransom Drysdale. To think you’d been able to avoid him for so long. You should have taken the back exit through the patio.

“Who’re you?” he asks, inspecting you like a blot of dirt on his Beemer.

“Hello, Mr. Drysdale,“ you greet softly, short and professional. His head tilts and his gaze narrows at the address. “I’m expected elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me.” But you don’t wait for him to move, skirting around his broad frame before making it out the front door. His stare burning into your back the whole way. Constant, uncomfortable.

Safe and locked in your car, you’re able to shake it off. At least for a moment. When it starts to creep back up your spine while pulling out of the driveway, your hand reaches over to flick on your stereo, blasting the feeling away. You sing along, belting out any lingering unease. Getting yourself ready and letting the week’s stress seep from you.

The drive back into the city winds long, but passes quickly. Only forty minutes. But part of that convenience is negated by the absolute bear it is to find parking downtown. Another ten minutes of struggle before you get out—the urban parking gods not on your side tonight. Your car beeps with the lock and you sigh. It’ll be a longer walk.

The sun sinks behind the buildings and the orange glow of the streetlights paint the sidewalks. You bundle yourself in your jacket, shift your duffle higher on your shoulder, and start marching. One foot in front of the other. Glancing at familiar storefronts and navigating around the few passersby finding their Friday night adventure.

By the second block, you pause. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Eyes bore into you from behind. Heated, focused. You spin on your heel, but find no culprit. You swallow and breathe deep. Just your imagination, surely. Maybe.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath and turn to begin walking again. Quicker.

Your steps beat light on the pavement, though you don’t want to seem rushed. Trying to find a steady, rapid pace that doesn’t signal your distress. Still, the sensation doesn’t cease.

The evening gets darker and you see Chase’s studio in the distance. The industrial building looming and dark, intimidating. But your safe haven. The back door stands just within reach. You knock a rapid shave-and-a-haircut on the wood and wait for it to open. Phantom fingers dance along the back of your neck and you whip around. The alley stands empty save for a grimy dumpster and a few trash bags. Yet your heartbeat continues to thunder in your ears.

“There you are,” a gruff yet relieved voice exclaims. Long fingers wrap around your bicep and pull you in, the door closing behind you and cutting you off from your paranoia.

“Sorry,” you reply automatically, distracted before you shake away the adrenaline and turn to your friend. He beams brightly and lets his hand slip down to yours. With a turn on his heel, he guides you through the hallways to the back room. “Minor delay and had to find parking a few blocks away.”

“Don’t worry about it, li’l bird,” he shrugs and opens the door. “The room’s still filling out and Caleb is doing his sensation thing.”

You hum and enter behind your friend, setting your bag down in its usual place by the futon and shrugging off your coat. Your neck rolls on your shoulders, releasing any residual tension. Warm hands wrap over them and knead the muscles.

“You okay?” Chase asks, genuine concern in his voice. “You’re looking a little rattled.”

You lean into his gentle but firm touch, letting your eyes drift shut. Sinking into the feeling and focusing on it. Keeping yourself out of the instinctive loop of fright that lingers at the fringes of your mind. Chase’s hands travel down your back and over your sides—comforting, but objective in their precision.

“I’m fine,” you reply, breathy and calm. You pause, feeling his hands do the same. “Just,” you bite your lip, “maybe have the others keep a watch on the crowd tonight? I’ve had this strange feeling.”

Chase’s warm hands move back up to grasp your shoulders, reassuring in their press. “Of course.” He steps back and releases you. You spin to meet his eyes. “You know I always look out for my girl.” His lips lift in a soothing grin. “Now, let’s get you ready.”

You nod and begin to strip. Your blouse unbuttons and falls from your shoulders. Chase helps you step out of your skirt and grabs your outfit from your duffle. You change quickly from your everyday bra into the elaborate sports bra saved for these occasions. Chase helps straighten the straps, keeping them from turning on themselves and arranging them as they’re supposed to be. The bike shorts slide up your legs and sit at your waist. A quick peek in the mirror ensures you’re presentable—effortless yet alluring.

“You ready?” Chase asks softly.

You catch his eye in the mirror and nod with a small grin. “Ready.”

He offers his hand and you turn to accept it. Fingers squeeze around yours and draw you out. The crowd gathers around the elevated stage. The rig is all set up, the mats on the ground, the spotters standing on the fringes, everything waiting for you both.

Chase stops right by the steps up. He turns to you and takes your other hand in his. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately. A deep breath calms your spiking heart and the butterflies in your tummy. Displaying yourself in such a vulnerable position never stops being terrifying—or exhilarating.

“Then come along, birdie.”

The lights blare bright on the stage. Hot and revealing. You cannot look to the crowd waiting out past your line of sight. You’d freeze if you did. Instead you keep your focus on Chase—your constant, your rock, your Dom.

He brings you to the center of the stage and releases your hands. His chin dips in a bid for you to kneel. You sink the onto the floor, hands resting on your thighs, waiting. Your eyes locked still on him.

“Good evening.” He addresses the crowd with all the charisma you expect from him. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourselves.”

As he continues, you let your mind center on your body. Keeping yourself present, but counting your breaths and feeling the steady pulse of your heartbeat. Rope uncoils. Instructions and explanations fall to a rapt audience.

Chase walks over, turning his back to the crowd to face you. He smiles. “There’s my good girl,” he says just for you. Your lips stretch, preening at the compliment.

He cups your cheeks, tilting your face up. His lips descend to press a kiss to your forehead before he finds the bite of his rope and begins.

The rope slides over your exposed skin. Each caress precise, purposeful. Chase works quickly, but pauses every so often to address the audience again or check in with you. Your arms lift. You bend and submit to the way he moves your body. The rope cinches too tight. You wince. Immediately, Chase corrects it.

Around and around, you’re bound. Your thoughts quiet, steady and calm. The last knot ties everything together and Chase steps away.

Another speech before he positions you and the hooks pull taut. You breathe deep, preparing yourself. Your body rises from the stage, suspended. Like you’re flying. It takes a moment to adjust. Chase places his hand on your side, grounding you in the way you need. Your eyes fall shut. Blissful in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Chase stays nearby. He watches. The spotters watch. The people watch. You’re used to the appreciation. Admiring the way you hang from the ceiling, the way your body contorts to the shape of Chase’s vision.

Music begins to play through the studio. You hang like a piece of art. Whispers and conversations pick up until it’s the drone of a crowd filling the high ceilings. Talk about your dedication and grace. Discussion of Chase’s skill. Various mingling. But all the buzz of the background mellows in your head. Your blood flowing through your veins and the tension of the rope on your frame.

Chase brings you down earlier than usual. He lowers the rig and starts to untie you, except for the final ring that keeps you hooked. You stay there for a few minutes until he’s certain of your stability.

All the while, he begins your favorite part. His hands pet over your limbs. The blood already pooling under your skin, creating tender contusions. He whispers words of affirmation and praise. You savor the bliss of his aftercare and feel exhaustion’s tug.

The spotters dissemble the rest of the rig and release you from the final tether. Chase’s arm wraps about your shoulders and the two of you exit off the stage to wind your way back to your room.

It’s quick, habitual work for Chase to prepare the futon for your nap. And you sink onto the bed with a sigh. The mattress dips beside you. Your Dom strokes his hand over you head. As always, he insists you drink electrolyte water and eat a little snack, each presented to your lips by his own hand.

“You did so good for me, li’l bird,” he whispers, coaxing you toward rest. “Just close your eyes for me and I’ll let you sleep for a while.”

You hum in response, knowing he’ll stay beside you until you’re under. A thought drifts toward the surface before it escapes your grasp, floating away from you until it’s gone and you’re asleep.

By Monday morning, you’ve forgotten the encounter with Ransom Drysdale, too distracted by your weekend to remember an insignificant meeting. Pleasantly fuzzy feelings and bright spirits follow you in your drive to the Thrombey estate. But it all evaporates when you turn toward the house and see Ransom standing there, leaning against one of the porch columns. A grimace twists his lips and his arms fold across his chest.

“So, you’re grandad’s research assistant,” he says with a derisive edge to his tone.

“Morning, Mr. Drysdale,” you return on a whisper, waking past him and into the house. Ignoring the derogatory sting of his remark.

His brow furrows and he follows. You take off your coat and scarf, hanging each with care in the entryway. The whole time, Ransom’s stormy presence grows increasingly agitated behind you. When your feet turn toward the kitchen for a calming cup of tea, you take only one step before finding yourself flailing and dragged backward by a strong arm clutching at your waist.

The hard wall of Harlan’s office digs into your back. But you would take that discomfort if not for the fire flashing in Ransom’s eyes.

“Your grandfather is waiting for me,” you say without inflection, staring at him and waiting for his tantrum to cease—for him to get bored and release you. “Please let me go.”

His lips screw up in disdain before he responds with an decisive, “No.”

You keep your breath even, refusing to let him get under your skin. Hoping you haven’t unintentionally gotten under his.

“Tell me how you came to be Harlan’s assistant.”

You don’t reply. The hallway clock ticks. Your nerves spike as it continues, knowing Harlan expects promptness.

“You’re being quite rude, pigeon,” he says after a tense minute, stretching his arms to brace against the wall, keeping you cornered but elongating his body in a spectacle of power. He leans close, invading your space until his breath brushes your cheek. “Why don’t you coo for me? I would hate to have to contact my Uncle Walt at the publishing company and get your position filled by someone more…friendly.”

A swallow clicks in your throat. “Mr. Drysdale, your grandfather hired me himself, and I’m not directly associated with Blood Like Wine Publishing,” you explain in clipped syllables, clinging to your calm while he looms closer.

His brow quirks in intrigue and his lips press into another smirk. Words form on his tongue. But as the stairs creak at someone’s approach, they remain unspoken.

“There you are,” Harlan calls from the stair landing, peering into his office. “Come along, dear, time to get to work.”

His eyes flash to his grandson, a sharp look challenging his obstructive position. Ransom meets it and they lock gazes for a charged moment. You take your window of opportunity for what it is, surging forward under Ransom’s left arm. In the space between his frame and the wall paneling, you squeeze through. Though your body drags against his and your balance falters, you get past. Ransom grunts in displeasure and protests, but you march your way upstairs following your boss.

“Be careful of him,” Harlan warns in a whisper as you pass him along the stairs.

You nod and continue on. A final glance over your shoulder confirms your suspicions. Ransom remains planted in place, jaw ticking and arms crossed. His attention focuses on your retreating figure, brow furrowed in thought—a glint in his eye you instinctively fear.

In. Out. You focus on breathing. A steady cadence, a calming exercise. Your safety and escape with the ropes biting into your flesh.

This week pushed your limits. Every day affected by unease—following like a burning gaze. You’ve seen little of Harlan’s grandson. Yet every time you feel yourself tipping into that unsettled state, you find your thoughts turning toward him.

In. Out. Now is not the time to think about it. Not when you don’t have to. Not in this state. Suspended above the mats. On display. In. Out. Focus. It works, mind drifting on the softy syllables of Chase’s conversation with a curious patron. Grounding you, guiding you toward peace.  

Until it returns. That burning prickle at the back of your neck. The paranoia. It sets your teeth on edge. Despite your head being supported above your heart in tonight’s position, it becomes light, dizzy. Your eyes snap open, darting from face to face. Searching for his sinister features.

A flash—brown hair, sharp blue eyes, a regal sloping nose, a tan coat. It’s just a glimpse, but you meet their eye and see the beginnings of a smirk. Your vision swims. The studio blurs. Your heart pounds in your ears. You swallow, throat dry.

A croak escapes your lips. Chase’s concern meets your panic immediately. The spotters step forward, but his form eclipses your view of the rest of the studio—the crowd, the figure hidden amongst them—first. Your Dom reaches out to you and steadies the unconscious flail of your limbs. His fingers stroke across your skin. Slowly, it calms you. Your fear receding in the surety of his presence.

“Do you need to come down?” he asks, ready at a moment’s notice to lower you back to the ground—cut you out of the rope, if need be—and sweep you away to the safety of your room.

“No,” you say after a minute and a few deep breaths. “I thought…” Your words trail off in a mumble as you shake the silliness of your concerns away. It couldn’t have been Ransom. How would he know about this? It’s your mind playing tricks on you.

Chase examines you a moment longer before conceding with a wary nod. He steps back, letting the flood of the room rush back. Your eyes close again to force your way back down to comforting darkness. In. Out. In. Out.

Yet the evening becomes soured by that one moment. Chase’s distance expands like a chasm between you as he unwinds the rope from your body and steadies your walk back to your room. His methodical aftercare lacks in a way that sears a hole deep in your belly. Though you can’t name why. You wait for his tenderness to make it all feel better, but it doesn’t.

He settles you down on your futon and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. His eyes flicker with that same concern, but he says nothing more of it. Simply feeds you your snack and tilts your water past your lips. They slosh uneasy in your stomach, but you follow your routine, praying for some solace.

His muttered praises do little to coax you toward rest. Fidgeting and turning over and over, you body thrums even as you feel the weight of exhaustion. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to give in. Chase stays a moment longer before leaving you to the sticky blackness of sleep.

Though it’s not long until you’re disturbed. Like pulling you up through tar, you find the surface. Your reluctance to awaken keeps your eyes stubbornly shut, but the figure beside you strokes their hand over your head. You sigh and a small smile twitches at your lips. The touch soothes your soul.

“Chase,” you mumble on a sleepy murmur. He makes no response, but lets his fingers trail over your cheek. Your hand reaches out, grasping his and tucking it close to your chest. “Stay with me til I’m back asleep?” A yawn punctuates your request. He says nothing but stays beside you. His legs stretch alongside your body. And he makes no protest when you half-consciously scoot closer, letting you cling to him for the first time as you sink once again.

Harlan’s warning rings constant in your mind, “Be careful of him.” But there is no careful—there’s no more safety, no escape. Because you weren’t wrong. That figure in the crowd, watching you and sending you spiraling toward panic—that was Ransom. Following you again and again to the studio. Each week struggling to find a way to bring it up with Harlan, and failing. Each weekend spent suspended with Ransom’s eyes piercing through you.

You’ve tracked his approach, stalking closer and closer to the stage with each passing week. His eyes never leaving you. Not concerned with whatever Chase says. He has his focus. And it never wavers.

He doesn’t glare or glower—his observation far from menacing. Though foreboding still blares at the back of your mind each time your gaze meets. And you cannot stop yourself. Hanging from the rigging, you always find him. Your heart always lurches before you cut away the room by closing your eyes.

You drift awake, rested from your nap. Your phone proclaims the time and you groan at the early hour before sitting up on your futon and stretching. Muscles protest in the most delicious way and your lips tilt toward a grin. With a roll of your neck, you stand to gather your belongings into your duffle so you can return home.

The door to your small room clicks behind you. A step, two, and you catch a dark figure in you periphery. Your bones jump and you gasp. Turning toward the intruder, you clutch at your heart. Your diaphragm starts spasming, hiccups bobbing up your throat.

“Who,” you hiccup, “Who’s there?”

They step forward, their head bent and hands hanging by their sides. The glint of the ring on his pinky catches the light. You lick your lips and hiccup again. A hand presses to your abdomen hoping to calm the convulsions of the muscle.

“Oh, pigeon, did I scare you?” His mirth grates on your thin tolerance. He doesn’t do anything technically inappropriate during the demonstrations, but this confrontation is.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you say with a heavy breath, trying to swallow around the hiccups. “Why are you here?

Amusement continues to dance bright in his eyes. You’re just waiting for him to start laughing at you. Like there’s a cosmic joke to which you aren’t privy. But you’re willing to wait while he explains himself. All the while starting to feel sick from the incessant hiccups—and maybe something more.

“Let’s just say I have an itch I need you to scratch,” he replies with a teasing shrug.

“That doesn’t explain much, Mr. Drysdale.”

His jaw ticks and the amused light in his eyes dims a fraction. He shifts on his feet and stands straighter. The glint of a gold watch shines in the light. You swallow at the reminder of his status and your precarious position in the hallway with him—the ways this could spiral unpleasantly numerous and beginning to swarm in your head. A thought of Chase materializes in your mind. His bedroom nearby but too far all at the same time.

“Call me Ransom,��� he suggests, though even the way his head ticks to the side reads more as a command than counsel.

“Right,” you mumble with a hint of disregard—too focused on yourself, your position. Your eyes dart around the cramped hallway, looking for an escape. “What do you want?”

He hums, deep and threatening in his throat. “You.” The statement simple. Yet it rocks your world—sends you reeling and off-kilter. But he continues, “You see, I can admit you intrigued me on our first meeting. Especially after Harlan refused to tell me much about you other than your job title.” He sighs and takes a step closer. In retreat, you press yourself to the wood of the door. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since. And I need to fix that.” His arm cages you in, resting beside your head as he leans forward, crowding into you. “So,” he says, drawing out the word. His chin dips and his voice lowers to a whisper. “Name you price.”

Your chest jumps in another hiccup, voice jumping with it when you yelp, “What are you talking about?”

A smirk twitches on his lips. “I’m a very wealthy man. I need one night to get you out of my system.” His breath brushes your cheek. “Name. Your. Price.”

You sputter, mind whirring. You’re not naïve. You know for what he’s asking. You used to consider it, when the rent wasn’t adding up—before Chase, before Harlan. But not with someone like him. Your tongue swipes over your lips. His gaze continues to wander over you, examining you like a slab of meat.

“Five hundred thousand dollars?” The number, plucked from the air, grits past your clenched teeth in hopes it will deter him.

He grins and gives you a sliver more space to breathe. “Done.”

You gape in shock. Such an easy agreement. “Wait—”

“Do you want more?” His fingers tickle along your throat while his brow quirks in curiosity.

Your head shakes, vehemently against it. “No. I don’t—”

“Then, what’s the problem, pidge?” His voice husks, a moment away from descending upon you. The glimmer in his eyes hungry.

“I don’t want you,” you reply. The force of your statement knocks him back. His head tilts and his jaw ticks in irritation. His gaze narrows. “I wouldn’t want you for a million.” You push at him, but he doesn’t budge. Too strong, too firm.

His nostrils flare with his ire. A deep breath expands his lungs, pressing his chest to yours. He closes his eyes and calms himself. When he captures you again with his sapphire blue eyes, they’re softer. The sharpness dulled for his plea.

“Look, pidge,” Ransom croons. Sweet as pie but far too deadly. “It’s one night. That’s all.” He backs away, though he keeps his touch close by, ready to swoop back in and strangle you. “You’ll get one million dollars, alright? I never bother you again—never show up to this dump, never meet you at granddad’s. You’re done with me and I’m finally done with you. Got better things to do anyway.”

He lets you think. The moment stretches taut between you. Your hiccups the only disturbance.

“I’ll never have to see you again?” you ask, wary of his answer.

He grins, triumphant. As if he’s already won—which he has. A million dollars can do a lot for you. Clear most of your debt. Make your paycheck stretch further for a little while. Maybe give you a little cushion for a rainy day.

“When?”

“Oh, I knew you’d say yes.” He smirks and trails his fingertips over your cheeks. You turn your head away but he follows, ducking to catch your eye. “You made the right choice. I’m gonna give you the night of your life.”

Air expands your lungs and escapes in a steady hiss. Another hiccup interrupts the stream and you close your eyes in frustration. Lips press to your cheek. You jerk away, startled.

“I’ll text you the details, pidge.”

He leaves, his business concluded by sneaking a pat to your ass. The hallway expands around you once more and fills with your precarious relief.

The door looms too tall before you. You eye the keycard slot. Check the time on your phone. Another minute passed. You wonder if he knows you’re here. Your hand rests on your abdomen for a moment, calming your nerves. Your other reaches out and swipes the card. The light blinks green. You breathe deep, open the door, and stop right in your tracks.

There in the center of this great, grand hotel room sits Ransom cushioned by a big black leather chair. You swallow hard and glance over your shoulder. Your heartbeat flutters anxiously in your throat. You take a step back. Fingers cling tight to the doorknob. You clear your throat.

“Well,” he hums with a twisted grin, “there you are. I guess it’s true—amazing what some people will do for a chunk of change.” He eyes your position, still straddling the threshold and clutching at the doorknob. “You gonna try to run?” His brow quirks and he stands, relaxed and unconcerned. His hands shove deep in his pockets, but his sweater sleeves sit folded up near his elbows. “I thought you were braver than that, pidge.”

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you step forward and let the door close behind you—accepting his challenge. It brings a smug grin to Ransom’s face, but you ignore it by setting aside your bag and toeing off your shoes.

“How are we going to do this?” you ask without looking at him. “Do you have some kind of contract? Or will oral negotiations suffice?” You grab a small notebook from your purse and the attached pen, releasing it from its holder and clicking the cam down.

The scoff and eye roll you receive in reply sets your teeth on edge. Ransom shakes his head and says, “we’re not going to do that, no matter how fun oral negotiations sound.”

You blink. “But—” you begin in your shock before closing your lips and clearing your throat to gather your thoughts. “I realize this is for one night only, but it’s important—”

“You’re right,” he interrupts with a wave of his hand, turning his back on you and meandering around the back of the chair. “This is only for one night. We don’t need all that boring shit. I want to fuck you, not exchange friendship bracelets.” As he comes around to settle on the cushion, he tucks something beside him you can’t catch. “Now.” He leans forward. You stare, entranced by the confidence of his movements. The way his fingers clench on the arms of the chair and his chin tilts. “Get on your knees.”

They threaten to buckle at the command, but you stand firm. Still uncomfortable with this little exchange, you’re not yet ready to start. Not like this. Your tongue lashes out to lick your lips, eyes darting about for something to prolong the conversation. Another question to ask, another point to make.

“Will you listen if I safeword at least?” you ask as your toes tap on the floor in a nervous rhythm. The notebook in your hand crinkles with your grip until you place it and the pen back in your bag.

“You have my word,” Ransom promises, hand pressed—sincere or mocking—to his chest. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not exactly.”

He chuckles and shrugs. Whether his word means anything, you don’t know. All you know is that he’s not getting any more patient. He nods toward his feet, the open place between his knees.

You take a moment to gather yourself and find that safe space in your head, taking slow steps to approach him. Watching him—wary of any sudden shift. The fluffy carpet meets your knees when you sink down. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on steadying your breath.

Ransom waits—for what, you couldn’t guess. Until he rasps, “Open your eyes. Look at me like you look at him.”

Your eyes snap open and meet his. “Like him?”

But he simply holds up a pair of padded cuffs, dangling from his index finger. “You want me to stop, you say ‘Hugh’. Understand?”

Your head bobs in a nod, keeping eye contact. “Yes, Mr. Drysdale.”

In a flash, he grips your chin with his free hand. His fingers dig into your cheeks, anger flaring in his gaze. “You. Call me. Ransom.”

You swallow hard at the abrasive grit in his tone. “Yes, Ransom,” you respond with a stilted nod.

“Good,” he hums in satisfaction, “I prefer good girls.”

The tension drips away as he releases your face. Fingers scratch at his jaw and he stretches, relaxing back into the cushion of the chair. The cuff chain clinks, drawing your attention. His follows, lips twitching toward a smirk.

“Now, can we begin?” he asks with a raise of his brow.

“Yes, Ransom,” you reply, resisting the urge to drop your gaze. Unsure of what reaction might await at such a disregard for his request, but unwilling to risk a punishment—not from him.

“Give me your hands.”

You offer them up, blood vibrating in your veins. He holds them gently despite his prickish nature. The cuffs wrap around your wrists, latching snug to your skin. Perfect—not too tight or too loose. You stare at them. The detailed leather work. The minky lining. The safety buckle ready to release at a moment’s notice. They’re quality, expensive—an indication of forethought, research, commitment.

A weight lifts from your shoulders. The nerves buzzing inside you start to disperse. With a final pat to the leather, his hands stray to explore your body. He traces the curve of your lips. He feels your pulse throbbing at your throat. He cups your breasts and kneads the flesh until your breath hitches.

“Just like that,” he purrs while toying with you. “You’re gonna sing for me, aren’t you?” He plucks at your nipples through your shirt, staring you down to drink in your reaction.

You swallow a whimper—needy and plaintive. Thoughts flurry in your head tinged by heat. Submission tempts, at odds with an insistence on remaining in control. He catches the hesitance when your teeth worry your lower lip. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, and your heart lurches.

He lets the silence settle around you both, reclining back and taking his touch with him. A minute ticks by. His attentions drift over you, searching. Only he knows for what. Your lungs draw in a steady flow of air, each calmer than the last. Your hands itch in impatience, craving contact. Your fingers flex toward him. The chain rattles.

Ransom reads something in that sound and tilts his head, lowering his lips to yours. You blink, unsure of your boundaries with such intimacy, but he swallows any protest with a kiss.

You expect it to be harsh and demanding. Clacking teeth and a suffocating intrusion. That’s not what you get. The way he kisses you like a lover locked in a forbidden embrace between the stacks of an old library—sensual, passionate, and all-consuming. Letting you taste a hint of his hunger, his desperation.

Your bound hands raise to cup his jaw. Drawn to him like a magnet. Because this is the best you’ve ever been kissed. Sure, you’ve been kissed by amateurs, by creeps, by lovers, but nothing like this. It’s addictive.

Without meaning to, you sigh your delight against his lips. His twitch toward a smirk, even as he licks into your mouth and drinks you in. His hands cradle your throat and tilt your head back. The dance between you a delicious exercise of control.

With one last brush of his lips to yours, he draws away. Your head floats, hazy with the sparks of lust ignited by his kiss. Unconsciously, you follow his retreat, leaning up to him like a flower seeking the sun.

He stands, a slow movement that breaks your hold until your falling hands rest upon his thighs. He stares down at you, a conceited pleasure glinting in his appraisal. But you’re past the point of caring or becoming peeved by his superior attitude. You just want him to kiss you like that again. It’s only for one night anyway, what does it matter if he’s proud of himself for making you his plaything—or that you think you’ll enjoy every minute of it.

“Up,” he beckons with an outstretched hand.

You place your hands in his and rise. He squeezes and saunters toward the bed. A noise of approval rolling in his throat, observing your body.

“We’ll need to fix this,” he says with a gesture. You glance down—the plain tee, the jean shorts, your socks. He steps forward, pressing his lips to your ear. “You wear something special for me, pidge?”

You swallow, but can’t answer. Voice stuck in your throat.

“That’s okay,” he coos, playing with the collar of your shirt. “I’ll see soon enough.”

Fabric falls from your body. It pools on the floor at your feet. Your gaze falls with each article of clothing. Exposed to his scrutiny, you stand in your best lingerie set. Thinking he should get what he paid for, you’d donned it but now find a seed of apprehension blooming in your belly. Another thing he’ll nitpick or tease.

“Look at that,” he rasps, hand smoothing across your waist and gripping you close. Your feet stumble over each other and you brace yourself against his chest. “So pretty and just for me.” His fingers pluck at a bow on the front of your bra.

A shock of arousal hits you at his praise, leaving your knees weak. Gripping at his shoulders, you try to support yourself, and his eyes shine with amusement.

“You like when I talk sweet to you, pidge?”

He spins on his heels and takes you with him. With another stumble and a toss, your back bounces on the mattress. You gaze up at him, eyes wide as he chuckles and undoes his belt. With a snick of his zipper, he releases himself and strokes his cock. And, god you hate to admit it, it’s a thing of beauty. You meet his eye and feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

He quirks his eyebrow and dips his chin. You push yourself clumsily to kneel before him on the soft mattress. His fingers trace your lips until your tongue licks over them. He smirks and leads you down with a firm hand.

The first tentative taste of his flesh sends a shiver up his spine and a breath puffing from his lips. You kiss his tip, eyes locked with his. His cock twitches. He growls and urges you forward until he enters your mouth and rests on your tongue. You purr around him and begin in earnest.

A few bobs of your head work him back as far as you can manage. Eyes close as you focus on your task. Head drifting on greedy waves of sensation and muscle memory, you swallow him further and further. Listening, yearning to hear how you affect him. Drool pools on your tongue, stimulating every part of him it can reach. Part of you wishes you might have your hands free, if only to feel him. Urge him further toward release.

His hips buck against your face and you gag. But he keeps you steady, a guiding hand pressed to the back of your head, gripping and massaging your scalp.

“So cute,” he muses with a brush of his fingers over your forehead. “Look up at me, li’l birdie.” Your eyes flutter open, waterline wet with the start of tears. Ransom smiles down at you and winks. You hum around him. His head falls back on his neck with a groan, abdominals flexing as he pulls you off and up. A weak noise of protest escapes your lips, plump with blood from the stretch of his cock. He pants, tongue darting out to lick over your swollen flesh. “Not bad,” he comments with a tilt of his head. “But I think I’m ready for a bit more, aren’t you?”

With a hand smoothing across your throat, his other lowers to find the apex of your thighs. A twist and pinch, a rip and your panties fall away. His fingers free to explore the most intimate part of you. You whine at the squelch of your arousal. The slickness shamefully copious as he plays with your pussy and grins. He hums in delight, but doesn’t say anything. That sound enough of a gloat to humiliate you.

“I can’t help it,” you protest, brow tilting pathetically.

“Oh,” he croons, smearing his lips across your cheek, “I know.” The gentle mocking of his words pierce through you. You huff in pitiful indignation.

His fingers pinch at your lower lips and your hips jolt. He barks a laugh, but his touch turns nicer. Stroking over your folds and swirling around your clit. Your breath hitches. The sensation curling in your belly, building your pleasure. Teeth nip at your pulse point, startling you. Ransom chuckles against your skin and begins to suck.

You’re weak with him. The prick of his teeth and the soothing swipe of his tongue mingling with the skill of his fingers. Filling your head until you can hardly think. Moans and gasps build in your chest, too persistent to ignore. Just as you reach the precipice of your climax, though, Ransom stops.

He grips your chin with sticky fingers, pecks a kiss to your gaping lips, and smirks. “Not yet.”

Once again your back finds the mattress. You stretch out, bones jelly and blood thrumming. You crave release now. More than you can say, leaving you only able to reach out as he strips off his sweater and jeans.

A chiseled Adonis he is not. Muscles flex beneath skin supple with just the slightest layer of cushion borne from a life of luxury and indulgence. So when he descends and pins you to the bed, you feel it against you—his strength and softness.

He slots himself between your thighs, pulling them up to his hips. His cock finds its place, slicking itself against your sex. You sigh and loop your bound hands around his neck.

You bite back a “please,” but he sees it shining in your eyes and denies you. Content to roll his hips. Each thrust knocking the head of his cock against your clit until you whine and wriggle beneath him.

“Don’t be like that, pidge,” he says with a mocking pout, swiping a thumb over you cheek where unbidden tears fall from your eyes. “I’ll let you have what you want.”

With the slightest shift, he prods at your entrance. Bare. You breath hitches. Hands grip at his hair.

“Protection!” you protest at the last minute, surfacing from the lusty daze with fear in your eyes.

Ransom takes it in stride, continuing his persistence. “What for?” he asks with another roll of his hips. A delicious, sparkling sensation skitters up your spine. “I’m clean, you’re clean, you’re on birth control. Right?” The drawl of his voice accompanies his descent toward your neck. Another nip and suck of your skin as you reluctantly nod. He reaches a hand down between your bodies, gripping his dick. “Then there’s no problem here, pidge.”

You whimper, “I—”

He thrusts into you. The stretch divine. His gorgeous cock filling you inch by inch until you ache. A moan rips from the depths of you, a wounded sound of pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, sweat dotting your brow. How can a douche like Ransom Drysdale feel so right when he’s inside you?

He pauses, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving. “Fuck,” he hisses beneath his breath. Your own hips roll in an attempt to adjust, but his hand lashes out to stop you. His grip tight. “Squeezing me like a vice, pidge.” The husk of his voice, the strain, the need dripping from each word, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Ransom,” you plead with a gentler tug at the roots of his hair, “please move.”

His eyes open, the blue tinged dark with desire. His lips part around a shuddering breath. Finding his composure, he tilts his hips, filling you just that little bit more until you gasp. “I’m gonna fill you up just right. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

There’s not a moment more to prepare yourself before he begins fucking you. The drag of his cock against your walls enough to make an endless stream of sounds dribble from your lips. You grip him for dear life. The clap of your bodies filling the room with your moans and heavy breaths.

Ransom takes and takes, filling you and grinding against you until your vision blurs. You cum on his cock, screaming your release. Your knees squeeze his sides. You cling to him. Yet no matter how he ruins you, he keeps going. To sate his own pleasure, to see you crumble just a little more, to chase some ineffable desire.

It takes him longer. The stutter of his hips, the warmth of his cum flooding you. You mewl, hips shifting at the sensation.

“Hold still,” he commands, gripping your face with one hand.

His other travels down your body. Pausing to play with the sensitive beads of your nipples. You squeak. But his true destination lay between your thighs where he keeps himself nestled. Your clit throbs with your pulse, overstimulated and tender. You tense, bracing for whatever his plans.

He plucks at the aching bundle of nerves despite your every twitter of protest. Smirk plastered on his face. His intentions clear as he rips another orgasm from you and another. Letting you milk his swelling cock with your sex.

Your tongue swipes across your dry lips. Knowing by the wiggle of his hips he prepares himself for another round—one that will surely be a delicious torment. Your head shakes, arms tightening around him. Hoping your silent pleas will be understood. Already overwhelmed by the night’s exertion.

But he starts again, pleasure gleaming in his eyes every time he knocks your aching clit with his pelvis. You reel with the sensations scourging your body. The way the pain washes over you with the sweetest hint of pleasure. That hint just enough to keep your mind searching for more. Clinging closer and rolling your hips in tandem with his.

Your head lolls on your shoulders, sure to keep your eyes locked with his. Knowing he might stop if you let them wander just a moment—both needing and dreading that brief reprieve.

“There we go, that’s what I’m looking for,” he purrs staring deep into your glassy eyes.

Sweat dampens his chest, pressed against you as he cages you in with his weight. His fingers lift, two of them prodding your lips and delving into your mouth. Your tongue tangles with them, teeth nipping his knuckles. You swallow around them and they withdraw, trailing a cool line of saliva down your throat. His wet fingers trail beneath the cups of your bra, pinching at the tender buds. A raw moan rises out of you at a particularly wicked thrust of his cock. And another. You shudder, an unstoppable wave of pleasure ripping through you and leaving you in a fit of pained euphoria.

But Ransom says nothing more. A look shining in his eyes, thoughtful and indecipherable. If you could contemplate the dawning of such a look, you might. Though, with the rush of your own orgasm flooding your head, the stutter of his hips and the spill of his cum, you’re lost. He falls off you with a grunt, sprawling across the open area of the bed.

“Shit,” he mutters to the room. Sweat glistens along his skin and musses his hair. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths. A hand wipes over his face. You might have taken offense to the utter disbelief radiating from him, if so inclined.

Instead, you rise, prising through the quick release of the cuffs. Emptiness and pain halts your movement. An ache between your thighs that plucks its sweet agony. No choice but to push through it.

As Ransom recovers, you gather your things. Aftercare far from your thoughts. Willing to face any possible repercussions yourself and in your own space. You dress hastily, intuition begging for retreat. Knowing that another moment with him might cement something inside you. Something you know will only end in pain and disappointment.

Each step, each movement he follows with his eyes. They burn into you. Whether in anger or some other resentment, you don’t know—don’t need to know. Slipping your shoes on at the door and gathering your bag, he says nothing to stop you. You pause with your hand on the doorknob and glance over your shoulder. He continues to rest on the bed, body gloriously lax, and stares. Quiet and contemplative. You leave him there.

All thought of the money forgotten. No. All you want now is to escape that seductive lure he offers. You pray he’ll keep his word. That you’ll receive what he feels he owes. You’ll manage with what you’ve got until he does and start forgetting this night ever happened. Move on, work with Harlan, perform with Chase—lead your normal life.

You rush from the hotel, cool morning air slapping you in the face. You stop and tilt your head back. Your regret washes over you. Your lips press together, holding it back. Keeping it at bay.

The trek home stretches before you. Tenuous hope growing that you’ll never see Ransom Drysdale again, even as you feel the fierce burn of a gaze at your back.

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

People aren't mad because John/Arthur aren't canon, people are mad because the creator made fun of the fans that ship them in the Christmas special

I see… the post has been deleted

I’m just very used to being in bad fandoms where something as small as “I don’t ship them personally” is taken as a homophobic statement, and people have been saying forever if it’s not canon it’ll be queer bait, so I assumed which I maybe shouldn’t have done but with it coinciding with the “John is a child episode” it just made sense

now, I do have to say though, that while I don’t know a whole lot because I’m not on the Patreon, I was for awhile. Again take this with a HEAPING load of salt for that reason since I clearly don’t know the specific situation. Everything I’m going to say I will try to say from an objective viewpoint since I don’t know the situation and will only focus on the facts I do know.

But how is this new? For the karaoke creep special they keep calling it weird to call each other romantic terms. And when Arthur died by not sacrificing the little guy last season Harlan was ROUGH. He said anyone who voted to not sacrifice were children smashing dolls together, that they forgot the story they were in and hopefully this punishment would remind them that actions have consequences. He basically said this is your fault for being stupid. He ended up having to post a semi apology saying it’s eldritch horror story, it’s supposed to be about harshness and not knowing the consequences before hand, and that he teases his audience and that if they don’t like that this isn’t the right show for them. His phobia play through he did a bit as Arthur and John where he was like “and we are NOT doing anything in the shower no matter what the fan fictions say” “let them dream John”

I also would like to mention that word of god should be ignored in these stories and that Harlan does NOT have a PR team. Again I don’t know the situation. I don’t know if he was ad libing live, in which case he should be given more Lee way as self editing in the moment is hard, I don’t know how if he said the most vile stuff alive, or if he said something a little mean but harmless like the “no we are not doing this” “let them dream” or what. Maybe it is bad and he deserves to be roasted, idk.But making jokes about a non canon thing can be a normal thing, especially if it’s a thing people keep bugging you about.

I do know that fandom as a whole has a problem attacking people over though, being someone who frequently got called homophobic for headcanoning single characters as aro, this one specifically has already harassed him about this ship which I’m sure gets annoying, and that he has explicitly said he will poke fun on the Patreon, and that he has said Jarthur won’t happen, and that he is one guy without the means to sort through hate mail removed from situations and doesn’t have a PR team to tell him “hey this off the cuff joke is a bad idea”

all that being said, again I do not know what he said specifically. I think either way a lot of people need to reassess if this is the fandom for them. I’ve seen a lot of people only get into the show for shipping and then get mad when there’s eldritch horror and the attitudes of eldritch horror in the eldritch horror podcast. If he said something that bad then maybe consider getting out since he writes about delicate subjects and it will only get worse. If what he said wasn’t that bad and people are getting mad about being lightly teased but it wasn’t confrontational or homophobic, they might want to leave because that’s just what Harlan does, tease people, and it’s not new and will continue, especially about non canon stuff in his own work. And if you got into and are only staying for the shipping…. Yeah. If that’s the only thing you want maybe it’s time to move on.

and if you decide to stay, know that. Know and be warned ahead of time that you will be teased so it isn’t a surprise next time

edit: so I did get the full context quote and it’s literally just “we want to hang out together alone for Christmas” “platonically, as in canon” “oh of course of course.” This. This isn’t bullying. It’s a little tongue in cheek sure but the whole thing is just saying it isn’t canon. I’ve heard complaints on comments on this post about other stuff he’s done, which I don’t know much about but is also applicable. I did my best to say “either way, this is stuff related.” As someone who writes and has written things before where every single chapter people kept pushing for something I wasn’t going to write I get it. I’m not saying anything he might have done is right but I think it’s understandable at the very least, for a writer to be upset about his stuff being constantly misinterpreted and having fans try to push it where he doesn’t want it.

him reminding people it won’t happen is fine, especially when people keep accusing him of queer baiting. I still think what I said earlier stands even hearing other opinions, because although I can’t say either way, it seems like everyone who is upset says this is a repeated behavior, and if you stay you can’t be surprised by it every time. If it’s going to bug you you have to either be prepared for it to keep happening or leave.

That isn’t to say no one can be upset about anything else but this specific thing I don’t think is worthy of that. All he did was jokingly repeat canon in character (which is much better than like. Someone who keeps hinting at something and never giving it) in a teasing manner. He didn’t say anything negative about shippers, or anything homophobic, just said “hey remember kids, we aren’t into each other like that.” Which is. Fine. It’s annoying but it isn’t malicious.

If the issue is mods or his interactions with people say that. Don’t make it about him light heartedly going “don’t accuse me of queerbaiting.” it makes it so when actual issues like what people are talking about in the comments (if they’re legit, again I try to stay only in the actual content part and abstain from knowing about creators) come up no one takes them seriously because so many molehills were mountained.

If you’re pissed about how he talks to his fans say that, don’t make it about a lack of queer rep when he said day one there wouldn’t be any. Make it about the issue itself. You don’t mention that someone’s a domestic abuser for example after you say “and they have NO CHEESE in their house thats MONSTROUS who does that.” If you want to be taken seriously about a problem you focus on the thing that matters which is. Hurting people.

I guess at the end of the day I’m no one’s boss, but I am tired of not knowing what to believe or not when someone saying something like “no comment” on if characters they wrote are together is homophobia, or a character who’s been Described as a dick acting like one and then the creator gets accused of being shitty (random examples not to do with this specific fandom). If everything is a big deal that makes someone the worst when the subject is not actually hurting anyone… it’s exhausting. Idk anything about Harlan. At the end of the day I’m here for my little horror stories. But I will say definitively that I don’t think it’s bullying to say a ship is not canon and that to act like it is makes it impossible for people who actually care about morals and what someone is doing to keep the energy to stay that way without becoming part of a mob just taking people at their word.

If it upset you I’m sorry, it’s always disappointing when our take on media is dismissed, especially by the creator. And it’s fine to be disappointed. I get that. But don’t blow it out of proportion, and don’t make it about something it isn’t. If you’re upset about the quote say that it’s disappointing without saying it’s punching down. The author is dead and it’s one of the biggest podcast ships out there. If you’re upset about anything else make a post about that issue without tying it to this fun bonus non canon episode. You are allowed to be upset just and if it is about shipping: stop making someone disagreeing with you about a ship a big controversy. You can ship whatever you want regardless of canon and no one is trying to stop jarthur shippers, and if it isn’t about that stop making things about shipping if that’s not what it’s actually about.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

As Long As You’re Mine - Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader (Part 2)

A/N: Surprise! I’ll let you in on a little secret... I already had this written before I posted the first part! I just wanted to see how it would go down first and boy did you guys like it! So I hope this follow up satisfies your need!

Read Part 1 here!

Summary: Following your engagement to Drysdale there’s one last twist in the tale

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mob Elements! Language! Mention of Arranged Marriage! Fluff! 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

It had been a month since you learnt of your engagement to Drysdale. Every night you savoured every moment you had left with Steve. Clinging onto him whenever you could, praying and begging this was all a nightmare that one day you’d wake from.

But right now you were waking up alone. Steve had returned to Brooklyn a week ago, said there was a family emergency he had to deal with. He promised to be back as soon as he could, that every night he’d fall asleep thinking of you.

You were just walking towards the sunroom when Romero stepped into your path “your brother needs to speak to you immediately” he states.

You let out a long sigh “sure whatever” you muttered turning in the opposite direction back towards your brother’s office.

As you walked inside you could see how tense your brother was as he braced himself against the desk. You didn’t say anything, just sat down and waited for whatever he had to say.

“Drysdale and the rest of the Thombeys are dead, the entire family has collapsed” Bryce finally states his fists clenching in anger.

“What?” You mutter in disbelief.

“They’re gone, completely crumbled over some stupid inheritance” Bryce scoffs “Drysdale got word that he was getting written out, so decided to kill Harlan before the will got changed, it all imploded from there, family turned against each other until they were all dead”

“Whoa” you muttered in disbelief, you always knew Drysdale would cause the Thrombey empire to fall but you didn’t expect this.

“Yep, so looks like you get your wish after all, you don’t have to marry him” Bryce states in frustration.

“My wish was to choose who I got to marry not have it decided for me!” You snap.

“Well, you might not have any choice now! The options are dwindling and you might be stuck with Hansen!” Bryce roars.

“Don’t you even dare” you growl launching from your chair in anger.

“Boss,” Romero says interrupting the two of you.

“What?” Bryce snaps.

“There’s someone here to see you” Romero answers.

“Send them away, I don’t have time to deal with anyone, I’ve got to fix this bullshit” Bryce states gesturing at you.

“She says she’s a representative of the New York syndicate” Romero pushes.

Both you and Bryce freeze, you’d heard a lot about the syndicate from Steve. And by the look on Bryce’s face, you gathered your father told him a lot too.

“Send her in, Y/N go back to your room I’ll deal with you later” Bryce orders.

“She wants to speak with Y/N too” Romero adds.

You and Bryce exchange a glance and before he had a chance to argue you gave your order “send her in”

Bryce glares at you but his attention soon shifts when the redhead walked in. Her hips swayed as she went, exuding confidence that made it feel like she owned the place. You watched as she first surveyed Bryce before looking at you a smirk growing on her face as if she already knew all your dirty little secrets.

“Bryce Langley,” Bryce says holding out his hand.

“Natalie Rushman but just call me Nat” Nat smiles shaking his hand “let's cut straight to the chase, I’m here on behalf of the New York syndicate boss, who has decided to offer you a deal,” Nat says pulling out a file and placing it on the desk.

“Why?” You question as Bryce picks up the file and sits down.

“I’ve learnt its best not to question my Boss’ motives,” Nat says, despite the clear warning her tone was amused.

Concerned that your brother was about to walk into a trap you walked around the desk and started reading the contract of the deal over his shoulder. It was a trade deal, one that would allow your brother access to the New York harbours. There were a lot of restrictions and contingencies that ensure the New York syndicate remained on top but it was still a good deal. One that all the Boston families would kill for.

“This is a very generous offer” Bryce hums.

“What does he want in return” you question, a deal this big would come with a heavy price tag and you needed to know all the details before agreeing.

Nat smirks as she looks over at you “the only thing he wants, is you as his bride” she answers and your blood ran cold.

You had only just been freed of one arranged marriage, and barely half an hour later another was being discussed.

Nat must have read the horror on your face “and let me just warn you when my boss wants something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it. His enemies learnt that the hard way” she warned.

“Bryce please” you begged.

“You’ve got yourself a deal” Bryce agrees completely ignoring you, grabbing a pen and signing your life away before you could stop him.

“What the hell Bryce,” you say your voice cracking.

“This will be good for you Y/N, would you rather marry Hansen?” Bryce points out.

You scoff shaking your head at him as you fought back your tears “when do I have to leave?” You whisper turning to Nat.

You were shocked to see a hint of sympathy in her eyes as if she wasn’t the one who just condemned you “we have a private jet chartered for lunchtime, my boss wants you in New York before the end of the day”

“This is ridiculous” you mutter under your breath.

“Go relax Y/N, I’ll have someone pack your belongings,” Bryce says gently.

“No I’d rather do it, at least the essentials, they can do the rest,” you say shaking your head, only you knew where all the secret sketches you and Steve did were hidden.

“I’ll be back at 12 to take you to the airfield” Nat nods before turning away and walking out of the office.

Once she was gone you turned to face Bryce “you’re a monster” you whispered “you can lie to yourself about it but you’re exactly like him” you saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes as you turned and walked out of that office for the last time.

As the town car drove through the city you wished you could enjoy the view but you couldn’t. It has been a dream of yours to live in New York, you should be happy right now. But the reason you were here was the worst possible reason.

You were about to marry a complete stranger, you knew nothing about him, and he could be a monster worse than your father. What hurt the most was that your time with Steve had come to an abrupt end. He’d return to find you long gone and there was no chance your new husband would let you hire him.

You were surprised when the car drove out of the city and upstate. You were even more surprised when the car pulled outside a large house. You’d expected him to live in one of those large penthouses in the city. Not a house in the suburbs.

“Let's go,” Nat says climbing out of the car, and waiting for you to follow suit.

You followed after her as she led you into the house, you looked around in amazement at how understated it all was. It didn’t look like a mob leader's house at all.

“This will be your room for the time being,” Nat says opening a door for you.

Stepping inside you were surprised at how much you liked the decor. You were expecting to hate every single thing about this place, but you were struggling. The house had the views like your old home had but was close enough to the city that you could still enjoy the life of it all. You thought everything would be garish and horrid but it was understated and cosy.

“Dinner is at 7, enough time to freshen up and relax,” Nat says before walking out and leaving you all alone.

You took a deep breath as you looked around the room. Taking everything in, you tried to find something you hated but you couldn’t. There was even a folded-up easel in the corner. Running your hand down your face, taking another deep breath before deciding to have a shower to freshen up.

At 7 pm you made your way downstairs and towards the dining room. Once again you were expecting something grand where your soon-to-be husband would be miles away but it was once again understated. It was A table that would seat 8 people maybe 10 at a push, and the places set weren’t at opposite ends, one was at the head of the table the other sat right next to it.

You turned when you heard the door open behind and you saw your soon-to-be husband for the first time. He was tall and muscular, clean-shaven and had short blonde hair. Your breath caught when you saw his eyes, his piercing blue eyes that somehow held warmth in them. You realised with a start that you recognised him, but it couldn’t be him.

“Hello, sweetheart” he smiles walking over to you.

“Ste-Steve?” You mutter in disbelief.

Steve smiles warmly down at you as he comes to a stop right in front of you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek “I’ve missed you so much sweetheart” he whispers softly.

“I-I’m so confused” you mutter shaking your head.

Steve gives you a warm lopsided smile “I know I’m sorry for all the cloak and daggers, but I promised I’d set you free”

“You’re the boss of the New York syndicate” you state in disbelief, Steve hums in confirmation “but what were you doing being my bodyguard”

Steve lets out a long sigh his hand slipping into yours “I’ll be completely honest, because I don’t want there to be anything between us, not anymore” Steve says shaking his head “I was there because I was trying to find weak points, your father had been poking around too much and I needed to take your brother out before any secrets got out” Steve explains your jaw dropping in shock “but I never expected to fall in love with you, so when I discovered your brother knew nothing I switched targets”

“You took out Drysdale and his entire family…. Why?” You question.

“For you, to free you from that marriage” Steve answered squeezing your hand gently.

“But the contract” you mutter shaking your head.

“Was only to get you here and away from your brother, you aren’t trapped here, you don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to, you could leave and do whatever you want to do”  Steve explains.

You were speechless, you couldn’t believe what Steve had done for you. What he’d save you from. You hadn’t even realised you were crying until Steve cupped your cheeks and began to wipe away your tears “please don’t cry, I’m sorry I wanted to tell you everything but I couldn’t risk it”  he pleaded.

“Thank you” you cried launching yourself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

You felt Steve breathe out a long sigh of relief, hugging you back with equal vigour and kissing the top of your head.

“I still can’t believe you’re the head of the New York syndicate,” you say still in shock “who else knows?”

“Only a select few, Nat who you’ve already met, my best friend Bucky, and the rest of the Avengers” Steve answered brushing some hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You snort with laughter “the Avengers?”

“Tony, another member of the inner circle coined it,” Steve said with a bashful smile.

You couldn’t help but chuckle “it's a good name,” you say reaching up to finally kiss him “I do have to admit this all wasn’t what I was expecting”

“I know, having no one knows who I truly am means I get to live an ordinary life outside of work” Steve explains “it means so do you, you can do what you want when you want”

“This is amazing Steve, all of this” you confess shaking your head in disbelief.

“It's all yours sweetheart, if you want it it’s yours” Steve promises.

“I want it, I want it all, I want you, I want everything” you smile up at him.

Steve beams down at you “I love you so so much”

“I love you too Steve” you grin your hands running up into his hair as he kissed you deeply “but do you mind growing the beard back?”

Steve barks out a loud laugh “anything for you sweetheart, anything for you”

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

[dbnightingale24]

Pavlov’s Dog

A Ransom Love Story

~~

Part 1

~~

I don’t know why I’m like this, but here you all go. Another love story about everyone’s favorite asshole. I also got this done a lot faster than I thought I would, so I’m hoping to get part 2 out too. I’m also work on a Lloyd story though, so just be patient with me (I truly don’t know why I’m like this). 

Thank you @fuckingbye​ for my moodboard! It’s amazing, just like you!

Lets dive in, shall we?

Word Count: 38,754 words (look at me making a story that’s under 40,000+ words)

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY) This whole damn story is a warning, honestly. Ransom (a walking warning), Drinking, Cheating, Talks of drug use, abuse, FLUFF, VERY Public Sex, Daddy kink, Family drama/issues, Angst, Crying, Depression, Lying, Heartbreak...I believe that’s it.

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: C’mon, Give It To Me

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

“Ransom stop! We have to stop,” you moan as he continues to fuck you with two fingers.

“What for? I’m taking it easy on you, aren’t I?” he smirks against your neck before biting down on it.

“I’m married! I can’t...oh God, Ransom! I can’t...-”

“You didn’t seem to mind two nights ago when I fucked you until you couldn’t use your own legs, or the night before that when I fucked you on my balcony for everyone at the party to see,” he chuckles.

“Ransom!” you whimper, scratching at the kitchen fridge while your legs go weak at the memory.

“We don’t have to stop at all, baby. You just need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he chuckles before nipping on your earlobe, “we haven’t been caught yet, so why stop?”

As always, you do what he says, because you can’t stop. You haven’t been able to stop since you two started this whole fucked up situation a year ago.

Ransom was someone you never thought you’d be in this position with. Technically, you’d known him forever because rich families tend to travel in the same circles, but you’d never actually spoken to or spent any time with him. Well, except for that one time, which really didn’t seem to stick for him.

When you were a kid, you clung to your parents out of anxiety and worry. Then, when you became a teenager, you stayed away because he and his friends had a reputation, as did his father, for being a womanizer. Over time, Ransom became the same way and you can only guess that after hearing some of the stories about his family, it’s really not something he needed to learn, it was basically a genetic code for the men in that family.

Like the whole ‘Pavlov’s Dog’ theory.

Ransom didn’t need to learn how to be a scum bag, he just was one. Whenever he saw a gorgeous woman, he simply went after her. Much like his father, his uncle, and his grandfather (when he was younger).

It was a family trait.

Yes, Harlan had tried to fix all the damage he’d caused before he died, but it was useless. Richard and Walt were set in their ways and they didn’t do much to hide it. Most of the men in the “rich family” group didn’t. No, your father didn’t cheat on your mother (much), but he put his hands on her; especially when he was drunk. So, he was still a piece of shit as far you were concerned.

However, none of this information ever made you look down on Ransom and his friends. You didn’t know them and you weren’t going to judge them because of your own feelings. You just stayed away. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t party much, and you didn’t drink too much. Sure, you’ve been drunk a time or two, but not every damn weekend.

Even with the “girlfriends” that they had, you tried to be as pleasant as possible when you would cross their paths. You just wanted to stay out of sight and out of mind, but you never wanted to be rude about it. You had your small group of friends and a stable-ish relationship with your parents, so you were happy. You kept to yourself and minded your own business. You never spent more time doing more than you needed to with the people your parents associated with. The parents liked you because you were a good kid. You were polite, kind, did well in school, never seemed to ask your parents for anything, hard working, and you stayed out of trouble.

Your parents took pride in having the “perfect daughter”.

You think that’s what attracted your husband to you. His parents had always liked you, and your mother would constantly tell you how his mother wished he’d settle down with a girl like you.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised he hasn’t asked you on a date with how you dress,” your Mother scoffed. “You have a gorgeous body and you never show it off. You don’t attract anyone’s attention with how you dress.”

“I don’t want to attract anyone’s attention,” you sighed, annoyed that she’s made you feel pathetic and like a disappointment for the millionth time in your life. “I like my life as it is.”

“Alone?”

“Mother.”

“Anyway, Jack’s mother is constantly telling me how she wishes he’d find someone like you instead of all of the other little tramps he hangs out with-”

“Mom!”

“What? They are little whores,” she shrugs, sipping on her Blood Mary. “Half of them have already slept with half the husbands, then they go and fuck the sons. As long as they keep their getting money, it doesn’t matter to them. Anyway, he hangs out with that Ransom boy and that boy is never up to any good-”

“You don’t know that.”

“When did you become so damn naive?”

“I’m not naive, I’m just not going to pass judgement on people I don’t know. What right do I have? Everyone is capable of good and bad.”

“Not everyone.”

“Yes, everyone.”

“Give an example.”

“Dad loves me, gives money to good charities and schools, but still beats you and stays out too late with his friends. You’re a great and loyal friend, a great mom, but you still drink to try and forget that dad’s a piece of shit and you go driving while you’re fucked up. Everyone is capable of good and bad. Was that a good enough examples or should I keep going?” you questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

“Anyway,” your Mother scowled, “he’s around Ransom and all of his friends, so it makes sense that he never brings anyone favorable home.”

“Well, maybe his mom will get what she wants and he’ll find someone “decent” enough to settle down with.”

“Or, you can change up your look, and he’ll settle down with you,” your Mother smiled hopefully and you just rolled your eyes.

Honestly, it didn’t surprise you that your Mother was so desperate for you to be with Jack. Socially and financially, it was the perfect match. Your Father is one of the best doctors in the country, and his Father was a pretty successful Doctor. You made a name for yourself in your life of work, and Jack was successful in his own right. He’s handsome and you’re gorgeous.

It just worked.

However, a few weeks later, you found out the Jack’s parents weren’t the only ones who were keeping an eye on you.

“Have you noticed that Ransom Drysdale can never seem to take his eyes off of you?” your best friend, Daisy, questioned with a laugh.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you questioned, trying to get lost in your third Screwdriver.

If there’s one person in your life you trust above all others, and confide in more than anyone else, it’s Daisy. You and her have been thick as thieves since 5th grade, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side when shit gets rough. Yeah, she’s a party girl, but she’s loyal, hard working, and she enjoys quiet time just as much as you do. Her parents are just as bad as yours and that’s how you two bonded. It’s also the reason you stick up for all the party girls your Mother hates.

All of you were dealt the same hand, there’s no reason to hate anyone. The parents never felt the need to really spend time with their kids, cause that’s what the Nanny’s for, right? All the parents just passed their kids off to someone else when they could, then paraded them around during their birthdays or when they achieved something they deemed amazing. Whether it was making the honor roll, making the Varsity football team, or getting accepted into a top school, the parents would throw extravagant parties, while their kids would drink themselves into oblivion, get high out of their minds, or fuck until they were tired of it.

Everyone dealt with their shit in their own way, and Daisy made sure you didn’t give anyone shit for it, because you were all just trying to get by in a world where you all felt like no one actually gave a fuck about you. You were all just trophies for your parents to shine up and pay attention to every once in a while.

Anyway, your parents were throwing their annual Summer party and, somehow, you got roped into it.

“He wants to fuck you,” she laughed.

“What? No he doesn’t! He’s never even spoken to me!”

“News for ya babe: you don’t have to talk to someone to wanna fuck ‘em.”

“I’m not his type, stop it. You’ve seen the girls he brings to parties and charity functions. I do not fit into the category, at all,” you scoffed before taking another sip of your drink, looking over and seeing his eyes on you.

Along with Jack’s.

“I told you what my mom said; they’re probably just talking about me,” you shrugged.

“His eyes are on you even when he isn’t around Jack.”

“Dais-”

“I know you’re hard headed and don’t like to listen to anyone, but Drysdale has a thing for you and I feel like he always has, or...at least, wants to fuck you.”

“Yeah right,” you muttered before you finished off your drink.

You should’ve listened to her. God, you wish you would’ve listened.

It’s not like you had any reason to believe her though, because why would you? He’d never spoken to you, he’d never made it obvious that he’d taken any interest in you, and he never approached you. Hell, your parents had invited him and his parents to your birthday parties when you were kids, but he never showed up. You two had gone to the same schools up until college, but even when he came home for holiday break, he never even looked your way.

So why would you think he wanted anything to do with you? Why should you think that he or or Jack ever thinks of you?

Well, Jack proved that his mother’s word got through to him at some point.

“Ya know, you’re always at these things, but you never seem happy to be here,” Jack smiled as he made his way over to you.

“Oh...hi! Uh...yeah, ya know...family obligation and all,” you smiled awkwardly, not really sure why he was making conversation with you.

“Well, why not make a new friend while suffering through another family obligation?”

And that’s how it started.

In the beginning, Jack was sweet. So insanely sweet. He brought you flowers every other day, he was constantly making or taking you to dinner, he was funny, he cut back on partying, and he was always so interested in you. Constantly asking about your day, what made you happy, what irritated you, and what made you laugh.

He seemed like a dream.

It’s not like you’d never had a boyfriend and you were by no means a virgin, but Jack was a dream...at the time. Soon enough there was a proposal and you happily accepted, a home was purchased, there was talk of having kids, a wedding date was set, and your parents were thrilled. You were in love and everything you’d always wanted was finally falling into place.

However, Jack was a wonderful liar, you’ll give him that. He easily played the two faced card, and by the second year of your marriage, you’d finally figured it out.

“Jesus, enough with the bitching!” Jack slurred at 3am, after waking you up by knocking over a lamp in the bedroom.

“You’re never home! You’re always drunk, high, or both, and you’re fucking cheating!”

“Here we go with the fucking cheating allegations-”

“It’s a fucking fact! I smell them on you, there are lipstick stains on your shirt, the calls you step out of the room to answer-”

“Shut up! Your voice is annoying me and I have an early day at work,” he growled before getting into bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

After that, you tried. You tried to save what you thought was the perfect marriage. You made an effort to be more appealing; wearing tighter and more revealing clothes, giving him a blow job whenever he wanted, initiating sex, making his favorite meals, trying to have more date nights, but nothing seemed to work.

“Your husband is a piece of shit,” Daisy scoffed as she settled in bed next to you, at her house.

You and Jack got into another huge argument before he left to go out, and you were in no mood to be there when he got back.

“What did he do now?”

“Hit on me.”

“Daisy-”

“Don’t. Don’t be that woman. Don’t make excuses or try to explain it away. He’s a piece of shit and you know it. Leave his ass.”

“It’s my fault-”

“Stop it, no it isn’t. He’s always been a piece of shit and that didn’t change because the two of you said ‘I do’. He’s a liar and piece of shit. Don’t deny what you know for comfort,” she snapped.

It’s not like Daisy didn’t have a point. You’d figured out Jack was a piece of shit a year and a half into the marriage, but you pretended you could look the other way. If there’s no actual proof, then there’s no way he could be a cheater. You wanted to believe that you were living the life that no one else seemed to be capable of.

You wanted to believe that you got lucky.

Soon enough, trying turned into irritation, irritation turned into frustration, and frustration turned into regret.

“I don’t see the point in leaving him,” your Mother sighed as you two sat down for lunch. “Every marriage has its issues.”

“No offense, but I don’t want to end up like you and half the other women in the county.”

“Y/N, you’re not getting any younger and he’s not putting his hands on you. He’s got a good job, he has more than enough to keep comfortable and happy-”

“I have my own good job and good money on my own.”

“Just have a kid and-”

“You’re not listening me-”

“I am and you need to grow up, Y/N. You’re being a child. Do you know how lucky you are? You could have it so much worse. Suck it up and get over it,” she snapped before she finished her drink, which was her way of letting you know that the conversation was over.

So, you tried. You tried to keep your tears to yourself, you pretended that you didn’t care that he reeked of sex and other women when he came home, you made dinner and left him notes about his plate being in the fridge when he didn’t come home.

However, it didn’t seem to help anything. He was rarely ever home, and w[hen he was, he was either too fucked up or too annoyed to actually pay attention. You barely had sex with him anymore, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, cause it was rare that he ever got you off.

That was an issue before all the lying and cheating.

However, the more you tried, the more your spirit died.

“This isn’t like you, Y/N. This isn’t you at all,” Daisy sighed as as she got in her bed and cuddled up next to you; holding you close as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“My Mother said-”

“Your Mother is a miserable drunk. You know better than to listen to her.”

“She has a point, Dais. They’re a lot of people who have it worse than me.”

“Y/N, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. He’s an asshole who doesn’t know how good he has it, and you deserve to be with someone who does. Someone who will actually appreciate and love you.”

“It’s whatever at this point.”

“When did it get this bad? When did you just allow bullshit like this to happen?”

“I’m tired of fighting.”

“Do you love Jack?”

“Yes.”

“Enough to keep thinking this lowly of yourself?”

“No.”

“Then fucking leave him, Y/N. He’s useless and you’ll be just fine on your own.”

You knew that she was right, so you got the papers made up, and had planned to have a mature talk with him about it.

Planned.

“Can you not go out tonight? We need to talk,” you asked softly as Jack went to follow Ransom and friends out the door.

“Whatever it is can wait,” he scoffed.

“It really can’t.”

“Y/N, don’t start your shit-”

“I want a divorce, Jack. I’m tired of this shit and you clearly don’t care enough to get your shit together. I want a divorce,” you stated plainly, crossing your arms.

“Can you guys wait outside? I’ll be out soon,” he laughed incredulously.

Ransom looked you over before he and his friends made their way outside.

“What is it that you want, hmm?”

“To be in a functioning fucking marriage for one!”

“Jesus, you’re so fucking dramatic, Y/N. You want for nothing, I’ve never put my fucking hands on you-”

“The fact that you think that’s some big fucking win is a major problem.”

“I still come home to you, don’t I?”

“Do you fucking hear yourself right now?! Why keep doing this? Why not just be free to do whatever you want and leave me the hell alone?”

“Because I love you, Y/N-”

“Bullshit!” you laughed.

“Just because it’s not perfect doesn’t mean it’s not love!”

“Jack, I’m tired of this shit. I have tried everything to make you happy and commit, like you fucking said you would in your wedding vows, and nothing has worked. I’m tired of being the only one who’s willing to make this marriage work. Just sign the damn papers.”

“You’re just not fucking thinking straight. You need a night cool down.”

“Jack-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” is all he said before storming out and slamming the door shut behind him.

You were determined to stand your ground, so you packed some of your clothes and went to Daisy’s house, and she was more than happy to take you in.

Shithead: Where the hell are you?

Y/N: Sign the papers.

Shithead: You’re being ridiculous.

Y/N: Can you not be difficult for once? Just sign the damn papers.

Shithead: I’m coming to get you, where are you?

Y/N: Can you please just sign the papers?

Shithead: Come home.

This kept up for two weeks; you begging Jack for a divorce and him begging you to come home. You did your best to be strong, with Daisy being your only real support system, but it could only last for so long.

“You need to go home to your husband,” your Mother sighed as soon as you two sat down for lunch.

“Stay out of it.”

“His Mother won’t stop calling me, telling me how miserable he is-”

“Then he should’ve kept his cock in his pants.”

“Y/N!”

“What? He’s a cheater, Mom! All he does is cheat on me and make me feel like I’m being unreasonable-”

“You are!”

“Do you ever take my fucking side?”

“I don’t care for your language!”

“And I don’t care for your attitude!” you snapped.

“You’re having lunch with your Father on Thursday.”

“I work, I can’t just-”

“Just don’t. He wants to have this lunch, he set up his schedule for work so he can meet you in the park, and you’re going.”

“And he couldn’t tell me himself because....?”

“You’re less inclined to give me the same attitude you’ll give him.”

“Fine.”

Needless to say, you two didn’t speak to each other for the remainder of that brunch, and you were already expecting your lunch with your Father to go bad.

It always did.

“So, what’s going on with you and Jack?” your Father asked, handing you a hot dog as you two resumed your stroll through the park.

“You know what’s going on with us.”

“Your Mother says-”

“Don’t. Don’t act like she doesn’t make me feel like shit and make me feel like I’m dumb. Like I’m asking for too much.”

“We just want you to have a good life.”

“You can’t honestly think I’ll have a good life with Jack. Jesus dad, I know you can be a piece of shit, but you have to know that a good life with Jack is not an option!”

“I’m not trying to start an argument, Y/N.”

“You’re also not trying to help anything!”

“It’ll make your Mother’s life a lot easier.”

“And what about my life?”

“Love will come again, Sweet Pea.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you scoffed before you finished the rest of your hot dog. “Both of you have got to be the worst parents.”

“Y/N-”

“How does me getting back with him make her life any better anyway?”

“You know the women at the country club talk. They’re bullies and they already give her shit about all the things she and I have been through-”

“So this is to fix all of the shit you’ve done wrong? That’s fucking rich.”

“Overall, she’s been a good mother, Y/N. All the best dance classes, being at every recital, being at every choir concert, every band concert, showing up to every soccer game, getting you the exact things you wanted for your birthdays-”

“Getting blackout drunk on my 16th birthday and making a fool out of herself and embarrassing me in front of my friends.”

“That was my fault and you know it.”

“So, once again, this is to fix all of the shit you’ve done wrong.”

“Y/N-”

“I have to think...all of this shouldn’t have to fall on me.”

“No, it shouldn’t, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Yeah, I know. I gotta get back to work. I’ll talk to you later,” you muttered, throwing out the wrapper that held your hot dog and walking off.

As much as you hated to admit it, your Father did have a point. For all the flaws that your Mother had, and there was a good amount, she always did her best to show up for you. If being trapped in a shitty marriage was going to make her life better, then you’d do it.

Against Daisy’s advice (as well as your own), you found yourself packing your things up and moving back into the prison you were supposed to call home. For the first few weeks, Jack seemed to have his shit together (though you weren’t buying it), and insisted upon having a vow renewal party.

And that’s when all of it started.

It was simple enough at first; people came over and congratulated the both of you, you two put on a show of pure and genuine happiness, had a dance, and Jack even did a toast to the both of you and the new chapter of your marriage.

It started out easy.

Then the drinks started flowing and Jack easily fell back into his old ways. Right in front of you. Your parents could see how upset you were getting and your Father even tried to calm Jack down a few times, taking him in a separate room to talk, but it was no use. Once Jack was fucked up enough, he didn’t care about anything except what he wanted and it didn’t help that his dickhead friends were egging him on.

Well, all of them except for Ransom.

His gaze stayed on you almost the whole time and it was intense. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and your skin was begging for just a touch of him. It also didn’t help that you’d been drinking whiskey for the last 2 hours, as a way of dealing with being publicly humiliated, and it was really starting to kick in. All you wanted was some sort of comfort, and the look Ransom was giving you was letting you know that he was more than willing to give that to you. You wanted to talk to Daisy, but she had refused to come (and you couldn’t even blame her), so you were just shit out of luck.

When you checked the clock and realized that it was only 10pm, you knew the party wasn’t anywhere near over. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and stormed off outside, deciding that time away from everyone is what would be best.

“I never knew you could drink so much,” a dark voice chuckled from behind you, causing you to jump.

“R-Ransom...hi,” you stuttered as you put the bottle down and moved over a bit on the stone ledge you’d been sitting on.

“You look pretty fucking miserable for someone who just renewed her vows.”

“Shouldn’t you be inside with Jack? You’re his best friend or whatever.”

“He’s too fucked up and he’s being annoying,” he shrugged as he took a seat next to you and grabbed the bottle of JD. “We’ve never really spoken before, thought I’d take the time to talk to you now.”

“Well, as much as I appreciate the kind gesture, I’m really in no mood to talk right now.”

“Why’d you take him back?” Ransom pressed on and you let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Ransom, not to be a complete cunt right now, but why do you care? You’re always out with him while he’s getting his dick wet in some other woman’s cunt, so why do you care?”

“It’s not like I encourage him to do it,” he shrugged before he took a drink from the bottle, “he’s a fucking idiot. He talked about making you his for the longest time. Now, he has you, and he treats you like shit.”

“Well, thanks for that bit of information,” you laughed humorlessly.

“So, why did you go back?”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“And I told you, we have time.”

“Ransom-”

“You are entirely too beautiful to be crying or married to an asshole like him. The reason must be something good.”

“Leave it alone,” you almost sobbed as you looked back over to him.

Before you could blink, Ransom was cupping your face and kissing you deeply. He was kissing you with more emotion than you’d ever felt. You knew you should’ve stopped him, but it felt so fucking good. Whether or not it was because of the alcohol or because of the lack of affection from Jack, it felt so good to have someone kissing you with so much passion and determination.

“Ransom...” you breathed as you two broke apart, “don’t.”

“You don’t wanna get back at him?”

“Why do you?”

“He took something precious from me, and I wanna return the favor,” he broods as he held your gaze.

You should’ve tapped out right then and there, but you needed some sort of comfort. You needed to hurt Jack the same way he’d hurt you so many times. Before you knew it, you were sneaking Ransom in and bringing him to the bedroom you shared with Jack, not caring if you got caught or not.

You just wanted to feel better.

“Ransom...don’t,” you moaned as he went to rip your dress. “My parents are still here.”

“You really are a good girl,” he chuckled before continuing to kiss down your body.

“I still have...gotta make sure I can go down there...”

“I’ll make sure you look presentable, baby. However,” he started as he hiked up the bottom of your dress, “since I can’t destroy this dress, I’m gonna destroy you.”

“Ransom-”

“Just hang on, baby,” he smirked before dipping down and sucking on your clit and pushing two fingers inside of you achingly slow.

“Jesus! Fuck...Ransom...”

“The way you taste...could stay in-between these legs all day,” he growled before resuming his assault on your clit and picking up his pace, as you gripped his hair and started to grind yourself against his face.

Yes, there was a part of you that wanted to stop, but you’d also never felt so fucking good. Even with your fingers and vibrator, neither could compare to what Ransom was making you feel.

“Ransom...fuck! Oh my God!” you whimpered, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Yes, you were fine with Jack catching you, but not the entire fucking house.

“Shit! You’re so-fuck!” you cried out as he changed up and started to massage your clit with is thumb while easily fucking into your weeping cunt with his tongue. “Never felt this fucking good!”

You felt him smirk against your clit and you didn’t even care. You felt like you were heaven in heaven and he had every right to feel cocky.

“Not gonna last much...oh...yes...YES!” you cried out, as you came hard, your entire body tingling in delight.

“Never thought you’d be such a messy little thing,” Ransom chuckled after he cleaned up between your legs. “Can’t wait to see how much of a mess you make on my cock.”

“Ransom-”

“You’ve already opened up your legs for me, sweetheart. Might as well experience the whole ride,” he smirked before kissing up your dress.

In the moment, it’s not that you felt guilty, you were just afraid of not being able to keep quiet.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” he cooed against the shell of your ear before he bit it.

“Shit!” you whimpered as you unbuttoned his pants and he pulled them down.

“Gonna fuck you so good. The way you should always be fucked,” he promised before thrusting himself inside of you.

“Fuck!”

“God, this pussy is better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, starting to pump into you hard and fast.

“So fucking full! Holy shit!” you cried out as you gripped his shoulders, trying to hold on for the ride.

“Never been stretched this good?”

“N-no, daddy!”

Whoops.

“Daddy?” he smirked, “You ever call him that?”

“He...he doesn’t deserve it,” you moaned, grinding your hips against his.

“Shit, Y/N!”

“So fucking close!”

“You need to cum, baby?”

“Please!” you pleaded pathetically.

“Such a good little girl,” he grunted with a smirk, “Asking permission...cum for daddy, baby,” he encouraged before he dipped down and kissed you passionately with just a hint of desperation.

Maybe it was because you were so damn drunk, or maybe it was because he made you feel better than you ever had, but you squirted hard. Something you’d never done before.

“You really are the messiest little thing, aren’t you?” he laughed as he pulled out, and you groaned in protest. “Oh, we’re not done, Sweet Thing. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

“Ransom-”

“Don’t worry, daddy isn’t gonna fuck that hole. At least not tonight. Just wanna put these these legs out of use.”

“Fuck.”

“Be a good girl, hands and knees,” he demands again before he slapped your inner thigh.

It was in that moment that you decided you’d do anything for Ransom Drysdale.

You were on your hands and knees in a matter of moments, completely forgetting that you’re in trapped in a bullshit marriage, and only focusing on the pleasure that he was giving you.

“Jesus, this fucking ass,” Ransom growled before he slapped it, “Jack is a fucking fool.”

“Daddy please!”

“I know, baby. Gonna make it so much better,” he husked before thrusting himself inside of you, again. “This fucking pussy! I swear to God!”

“Fuck me like I’m your whore,” you begged, “I fucking need it!”

“Haven’t even fucked you full of my seed and you wanna be my whore?”

“So fucking bad!”

“Should I call him in here so he can see how to really fuck you? So he can see that you’re mine now?”

“Do whatever you want,” you whimpered as his grip on you got tighter and he started to fuck you harder, “I just wanna please you!”

“God, you’re gonna make me fuckin' cum, sweet girl!”

“Cum deep in this pussy!”

“Is it mine?”

“Fuck! This pussy is all yours! Cum in it and claim it!”

“Fuck, Y/N!” Ransom husked as he filled you up.

“Jesus!” you screamed as you made a mess all over him and the bed.

Thank God the music was blaring .

You both stayed that way for a moment, both of you taking in what you had just done (you were sure more than him), before he slowly pulled out. You wanted more, but you knew enough damage had been done. Revenge, comfort, desire...you got what you needed and told yourself that was the only time it would happen.

“You comin back down, Sweet Thing’?” Ransom asked as he pulled his pants back on.

“In...in a little bit,” you sighed before you laid back on the bed.

“Gonna wanna fix that fuckin' dress before you do,” he chuckled before kissing the top of your forehead.

And with that, he left.

You told yourself that was the end of it. You had your fill (quite literally) and you wouldn’t do it again. You just wanted a taste of revenge, you didn’t want to live in it. When you went back downstairs, you ignored every glance Ransom threw your way, and ignored the fact that he left with the blonde Jack disappeared with earlier. You had your fair share of fun and you were done.

That’s what you told yourself.

When Jack came home late with lipstick stains on his collar a few nights later, you told yourself it didn’t matter. When you two got into a screaming match about him at least pretending to be decent, you let it go when he stormed out and didn’t return for the night. When the argument of you being on the pill came up and he almost slapped you, you told yourself it was no big deal. Why? Because the playing field was even now (as far as you were concerned). Yeah, Jack cheated almost all the time, but you cheated once. You cheated once and had the most amazing sex ever, so no more needed to be done. No, Jack didn’t know about it, but if he did, it would break him. That was enough for you.

Sure, Ransom came around, looked you over, gave you those eyes, but he never initiated anything. You were more than sure he knew you would never act on anything with him anymore, because that’s not who you were. In fact, you were sure that he knew that he was the only person to ever to get you to do something you absolutely loathed.

Which you is why you kept saying once was enough and you weren’t going to do it again, no matter how much you wanted to.

Still, a woman has needs.

“Ransom,” you moaned as you fucked yourself with your vibrator.

Yes, you were content with not fucking him again, but that didn’t change the fact that he fucked you better than you’d ever been fucked in your life.

“Fuck...fuck, yes! Don’t stop, Ransom!” you whimpered as you curled your toes.

“Miss me?” a deep voice questioned.

You froze almost instantly, leaving the vibrator on as you looked up, “what are you doing here?!”

“Game night,” he chuckled as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, “Jack lost the bet so he has to host it.”

“You can’t be in here!” you whispered harshly.

“Why not? You clearly need me and it’s been so long. Keep going,” he shrugged as he undid his pants.

“Ransom-”

“Keep going,” he demanded as he started to stroke himself.

You were coming to find that saying ‘no’ to him was going to be something you wouldn’t be good at. You resumed fucking yourself with the vibrator, while he jerked himself off (only turning you on more); his eyes on you intensely.

“You miss daddy, baby?” he groaned as he started stroking himself faster.

You could only bring yourself to nod.

“He’s not fucking you right?”

“He never does.”

“You want me?”

“We can’t,” you moaned as your pussy clenched around your vibrator.

“Why not?”

“Ransom-”

“Suck that vibrator dry, then I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

“We can’t-”

“Do what I said or you’re gonna be in for a long night.”

You truly wanted to say no, but he’d made you feel so good, and you missed that. You missed feeling desired.

You missed being wanted.

You slowly removed the vibrator from your already soaked cunt with a whimper, before bringing it up to your lips and licking it with the tip of your tongue.

“Never thought you could be such a dirty little thing,” he husked, and you knew he was close.

You kept your eyes on him as started suck on the vibrator, and couldn’t help but smirk when you saw one of his legs almost give out. Yeah, Ransom was a player, but in that moment, he was a puddle for you. It didn’t matter what any other woman made him feel, cause in that moment, he was showing you just how much of an effect you were having on him.

When you took the whole damn thing in your mouth, Ransom came hard on the bed and it just made you that much more desperate. You whined as you cleaned off the last bit of your slick and opened your legs for him.

Before, you could have blamed it all on alcohol and said that you only let Ransom fuck because you were drunk and upset, but in this moment? You were completely sober and you wanted him. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone.You knew you’d feel bad about it tomorrow, but for now, you just wanted Ransom and he wanted you.

“Let daddy see,” he demanded as he kicked his boxers and pants off.

You took the vibrator out of your mouth as you started to massage your clit with two fingers.

“Such a good girl,” he chuckled before dipping down, moving your fingers out of the way, and licking your clit before he started kissing up your body.

“Ransom, we have to be quiet,” you moaned as he started kissing up your body.

“Take off this fucking shirt.” “Ransom-”

“Take it off, I wanna see all of you.”

“We have to be quiet,” you repeated as you took your shirt off.

“These tits are fuckin' perfect,” he growled as he aligned himself with your entrance.

“Ransom-”

“Yeah yeah, we gotta be quiet,” he grumbled before he thrust himself inside of you, “so don’t scream too loud for daddy.”

“Fuck!”

“Quiet down, Sweet Thing’,” he chuckled before he kissed passionately.

You’d never had an affair before, and you never thought you’d have one. You always imagined that the person you’d end up with would be your knight in shining armor, but now? Jack was always doing whatever the fuck he wanted, so why couldn’t you? Why were you denied your little bit of fun?

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of having you like this again?” Ransom husked as he sat up and gripped your hips, “made me wait two fucking months to make you feel as good as you deserve!”

“All you had to do was ask,” you moaned as you clawed at his clothed chest, arching your back a little.

“Yeah? This pussy is mine whenever I want?”

“I’m yours whenever you want,” you whimpered as you felt your release coming on.

In the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t be saying things like that to him, but it was so hard to think straight when he was making you feel so good,

The man fucked like a god.

“What about Jack?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Ransom, do you wanna fuck me or do you wanna talk about my failed ongoing marriage?”

“You’re right, baby. Lets make the most of this,” he laughed before fucking into you relentlessly.

From that point on, you and Ransom fucked whenever you could. He always sought you out, but you never turned him away. You were always eager and desperate for him and he was always eager to give you what you wanted. Whether it was being fucked like a slut, or being fucked in a slow and passionate nature, he always delivered. It started out with him only seeking you out at parties and sneaking into the bedroom when he was at the house for whatever reason, but soon enough, he got your number (probably by getting it off of Jack’s phone), and was demanding you come over in the middle of the night.

That’s when things started getting tricky.

Ransom was infamous for kicking women out of bed, yet he never kicked you out. You’d heard stories of how he’d kicked women out, in nothing but their underwear (if he hadn’t destroyed it), but there were times when you’d wake to his arm wrapped around your waist and him holding you close. Outside of sex, you and Ransom didn’t say two words to each other, but nonetheless, the small gesture tugged at your heart. You couldn’t remember the last time Jack was affectionate with you in public or in private.

However, it also started to get tricky because Jack finally started noticing.

“Where were you?” Jack asked as you toed your shoes off at 7am.

“I went for a drive.”

“All night?”

“There’s not much incentive for me to stay home, is there?”

“Y/N-”

“What happened to your little trinket from last night? I woke up at 2am and you still weren’t home.”

“I actually did have to work late last night,” he sighed and you rolled your eyes.

Ransom had been out with him the night before and told you to come over because Jack was fucked up and had his face buried in some stripper’s cunt, and he wanted to bury his face in yours.

“Whatever.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me. I’m taking a shower and then I’m off to work.”

“You know I love you, Y/N.”

That had you laughing so hard you almost fell over.

“Thanks for that, I’m gonna go and start my day now,” you breathed before you made your way upstairs.

After that, you told Ransom that you both needed to stop. You were married and it was wrong, but it’s not like Ransom gave a shit about right or wrong. His new favorite activity was fucking you and he didn’t understand why he needed to stop.

“Why should I have to give you up?” he groaned as you rode him. “He doesn’t even deserve you.”

“He’s starting to notice, daddy. Don’t want...don’t...shit!”

“My gorgeous girl is fuckin’ herself stupid, huh?” he chuckled as he sat up and starting massaging your tits.

“Shit!”

“Cause you’re my pretty girl, right? You’re mine?”

“Ransom...”

“You’re mine?”

“Yes daddy,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him passionately.

And that was that. Ransom had no intention of letting you go and you didn’t want him to.

“Lets go upstairs,” he whispers as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“My parents are here, Ransom. I can’t!”

“Baby, I missed you!”

“You just saw me two nights ago!”

“I wanna see you every fuckin’ night!”

“You know we...Ransom, I’m so fucking close!”

“I know you are, sweet girl...pussy is squeezing my fingers so fuckin’ tight!”

“Oh daddy!”

“Did you miss me, baby? Did you miss me fucking you stupid?”

“You know I...you know I did!”

“I want you in my bed tonight, Sweet Thing.”

“I can’t-”

“Daddy doesn’t like that answer,” he taunts before biting down on the sensitive part of your neck.

“Oh my fuck!”

“Tell daddy what he wants to hear.”

“I can’t-”

“Still not what I wanna hear,” he mumbles as his free hand starts to undo his pants, “you daddy want to fuck you right now? In this kitchen, where anyone can come in and see?”

“Ransom!”

“Tell daddy what he wants to hear,” he demands hotly as he starts to grind his hard cock against your ass .

“Fuck! I’ll...I’ll come by tonight...I can’t stay!”

“We’ll see about that,” he laughs darkly, “now be a good little whore and cum for me. Get it all over the fuckin’ floor!”

“Shit!” you cry out as quietly as you can, squirting hard, happy to be pressed up against the refrigerator so you don’t fall.

“Such a good girl for me, baby,” he praises, kissing your neck as he removes his two fingers. “Clean daddy off so we can go back out there.”

You turn around and take his fingers into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, as your tongue licks and massages his fingers, making sure to get all of your essence off of him.

“You sure I can’t sneak you upstairs?”

“Ransom, I have to go out there. It’s my anniversary party,” you chuckle after he removes his fingers and you straighten out your dress.

“He’s the asshole for throwing a party instead of taking you out.”

“He’s expecting sex tonight.”

“Do not fuck him,” Ransom demands as he zips up his pants.

“Ransom-”

“That pussy belongs to me and me only.”

“He’s my husband and it’s our wedding anniversary.”

“What did I say?”

“He’s my husband, Ransom.”

“Then he should fucking act like it.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I like you and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you,” he chuckles before cupping your face, “don’t fuck him tonight.”

“Ransom-”

“Want me to throw you over my shoulder and remind you why you shouldn’t?”

“Stop it,” you giggle.

Ransom kissed you passionately and pulled you close, “don’t fuck him tonight, baby,” he begs breathlessly as you two break apart.

“You still fuck whoever you want.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Ransom,” you laugh.

“Just don’t do it, okay?”

“Fine, get back out there.”

“You?”

“I’ll go upstairs the back way and be down in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good,” he smirks before kissing you then making his way back out.

You’re not stupid. You know that Ransom isn’t in love with you, but that doesn’t change the fact that he makes you feel all of the things Jack hasn’t over the last few years. Besides, if you’re doomed to be miserable like every other wife in the area, you may as well get your kicks where you can.

When you reach the bedroom, you clean yourself up and look yourself over in the mirror. When all of this started, you were ashamed of yourself, but now? There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re playing the same game Jack is.

Except you’re better at it.

When you get back downstairs, you can tell it’s gonna be easy to tell Jack ‘no’ and leaving him to his own devices. He’s high as a kite and drunk off his ass.

“There you are!” he drunkenly exclaims as he stumbles over to you. “Where’d you go?”

“To freshen up,” you mutter, pushing him off of you as you feel your Mother’s gaze on you.

“What do you say we wrap this night up early?”

“And do what?”

“The thing we haven’t done for a while,” he smirks suggestively and you scoff. “What?”

“You’re a little too...tuned up for that right now.”

“Can you not be a bitch on our fucking anniversary?” he scowls.

“You need to sleep it off.”

“Y/N,” he growls as he grips your wrist, tight, “stop fucking denying me.”

“Let me go, now.”

“I want you tonight and you’re gonna-”

“Everything okay over here?” Ransom asks, his leggy blonde date following right behind him. “Hey man!” Jack exclaims, letting go of your wrist and wrapping Ransom in a sloppy hug.

Yeah, it’s definitely time to wrap this fucking party up.

“Why don’t you call it a night?”

“The party is just getting started!” Jack laughs, still holding on to Ransom because standing on his own is now an issue.

“Not for you,” Ransom mumbles as he helps him up the steps.

As you start making your rounds, thanking people for coming and all that fun stuff, you feel your Mother’s stare from across the room and it makes your skin crawl. The only reason you stayed with Jack was to make her happy in the first place. You didn’t need to hear any of her judgemental comments or snide remarks. When everyone is finally gone, you start to pick up some of the plates and glasses, and make your way into the kitchen; your Mother on your heels.

“You could’ve hired-”

“I didn’t want to,” you interrupt harshly.

“You have to stop,” your Mother sighs.

“Stop what? Cleaning? No thanks, I-”

“Stop sleeping with Ransom.”

For just a moment, your breath hitches, but you bounce back quick with, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do. I’ve been married longer than you have, I’ve been in a miserable marriage longer than you have, I-”

“I’m not you.”

“He’s never going to commit to you and you’re just going to get hurt.”

“Stop.”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Ma-”

“How long?”

“You need to drop it. You don’t know anything-”

“What do you think is gonna happen? What? He’s gonna save you from this marriage? You think he’s gonna commit?”

“What is your problem?!” you snap, finally giving her your full attention. “Did you see what I just had to deal with?! What I’ve been dealing with?! Isn’t it enough that I’m staying in this marriage for the family?! For you?!”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter, “it won’t always be like-”

“Did you miss the bruise on his mother’s face? The concealer did a good job, but not good enough. When does it get better? What? You think that because dad got tired of putting his dick in every other whole so often, that I’ll be fine as long as I wait this out till I’m 50?”

“I know you hate this,” she sobs softly, “and I know you hate us for asking this of you, but it gets better. Quit your job, join the-” “I don’t want to join anything! I don’t want to quit my job-”

“It’ll make all of this easier! It’ll help ease his bruised ego-”

“Do you hear yourself right now?! Do you hear how pathetic it all sounds?!”

“Honey, it’s not a bad life-”

“I need to keep some part of me that is me. I’m not you. I can’t just wrap myself in someone and make them my entire personality. I can’t and I don’t want to. I saved you from a scandal by not going through with the damn divorce, I don’t know what you want from me!”

You hear how awful you sound, and while you feel bad, it’s not enough to make you take back what you said. You’re in misery because it’ll help your family avoid more shame that you were never responsible for in the first place. It’s not lost on you that Ransom isn’t going to whisk you away from this hell and make everything better, and you’ll would never expect him to. However, Ransom is the only person who has made you feel something other than pain and sadness. Yeah, there’s Daisy, but it’s not the same. You know that she’s your best friend and you know she means well, but she makes you feel bad for staying. She says that she understands, but it’s not like you to not have any fight in you.

Yeah, you know she’s right, but you don’t need anyone’s help in making you feel any worse. Almost every other day, she’s asking when you’ll leave Jack, and it doesn’t even help that she can’t suck it up for a day and just be there for you when you have to put up with mundane bullshit like you did today. You love her, and you know she’s looking out for you, but she’s someone else who wants something of you. Demands more of you.

Being with Ransom is easy because all he wants is sex. He makes you feel amazing, he looks at you as if he adores you, and for just a moment you’re able to forget about everything that hurts and frustrates you. Somehow, being with Ransom has become the only part of your life that isn’t complicated and stressful. The most hes ever asked is what your favorite kind of porn is, which is how you ended up getting fucked senseless on his balcony while there was a party going on.

“Jack is gonna find out and it’s gonna get messy,” your Mother sniffs, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“There’s nothing to find out.”

“Y/N-”

“Please, it’s been a long night and I’m tired. Just go home and drop it.”

“You’ll see,” is all she says before walking out.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you lean against the kitchen sink.

This is all your fault. Its gotta be. You were so naive when you were younger. Giving every one the benefit of the doubt, believing the best of everyone even when it was obvious that you shouldn’t have, ignoring all of the things you’d heard about Jack because they were only rumors...you could’ve avoided this by being an asshole just like everyone else.

“He’s asleep,” Ransom sighs as he makes his way into the kitchen, “wanna just come over with me?”

“What happened to your date?” you laugh, shaking your head as you look away from him.

“Left at some point,” he shrugs, walking over to you, “come with me.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s your anniversary and they’re a few gifts I wanna give you.”

“Ransom!” you scowl with a soft chuckle.

“I can stay here tonight if that’s easier for you.”

“What did Jack take from you that caused you to start an affair with his wife?”

Ransom looks you over before cupping your face, “don’t worry about it,” he almost whispers before dipping down and kissing you passionately.

You’re grateful that you two are pressed up against the kitchen sink, because as always , your knees go weak and you know it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

“I can’t stay tonight,” you breathe softly once you two break apart.

“What’s the point in coming back here?”

“Ransom-”

“Just leave with me.”

“Give me an hour or so, I’ll be there,” you promise with a small smile.

All he does in response is give you another soul stealing kiss before leaning his forehead against yours, then leaving.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

You slowly and quietly make your way upstairs to your bedroom and let out a heavy sigh once you get to the doorway. You sit on the edge of the bed and look over at your husband (who is snoring rather loud).

Once upon a time, you would’ve felt bad about all of this. You could see in his eyes that he truly was hurt that you didn’t want to give yourself to him tonight, but what the hell did that mean to you? You had tried your hardest to make the marriage work, and he wanted nothing to do with you. Hell, he’s still going out and fucking around, but his half ass attempts at showing you an ounce of affection are supposed to change everything thats happened after all this time?

“Y/N,” he calls in his sleep as he turns over, “Y/N...I love you...love you so much,” he sighs before his snoring resumes.

There was a time that, that would’ve pulled at your heartstrings, but now? Now, there’s nothing. This marriage is just an obligation to you at this point. Jack won’t raise hell, your parents don’t have to deal with anymore shit, and you?

Well, there are worse things in life.

You change out of your outfit and into one of the Spring dresses Ransom loves you in (even though it is still a bit nippy outside), grab your car keys and phone, and head out the door to Ransom’s.

Ransom.

You know your Mother is right. He’s not going to magically make everything okay for you away and give you the life you thought you’d have, but for now, what he has to offer you is enough. You’re still not sure what exactly drew him to you, but you know you want it to last as long as possible. You can’t help but find it funny that Ransom is keeping you around for so long. From what Daisy has told you, Ransom doesn’t stick to one partner, and if he does, he makes sure to let her know that she isn’t special or the only one. But with you?

He’s not the same guy at all.

He wants you to stay, he’s possessive, he tells you (all the time) that you’re the best fuck hes ever had, and he tells you just how much he hates Jack for not taking care of you (only while fucking you of course). You’ve tried to stop whatever the hell you two are doing multiple times, but he won’t stand for it. The fact that he gets so pissed about your own husband fucking you speaks volumes, as far as you’re concerned.

But speaks to what?

You do your best to not think about it, because it’ll only drive you insane. You don’t know why he’s so possessive and that’s another reason you want to stop. During sex, you’re able to pretend that you’re not married and not doing anything wrong, well...when he isn’t bringing up what an ignorant piece of shit Jack is, you’re able to pretend, but after? When he holds you, plants feverish kisses up and down your neck, tells you that you need to leave Jack, strokes your arm until you fall asleep with your head on his chest....why? What’s the point of it?

No, he hasn’t said that there’s nothing special between you, but hes shown it. It’s not like he’s stopped with his threesomes and partying, you could hear him when he would take calls in the other room to let whoever know that he wouldn’t be fucking them that night, he showed up with dates (sometimes multiple) at every event he bothered to show up to, and he never text you outside of wanting sex from you. None of it makes any sense to you.

Yet, here you are, outside his house and knocking on his door, because you can’t fucking quit him.

“You have a key,” he growls as he picks you up and kicks the door shut.

There’s also that.

“Wasn’t sure if anyone else was here.”

“When I tell you to come over, know that you’re the only one I’m giving my time and attention to. You are always on my mind,” he husks as he pins you against the door and kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in months.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“You need me, baby?” he smirks as you start to grind yourself against him.

“You know I do, daddy!”

“You looked so beautiful tonight, but this dress? You know what it does to me.”

“Wanted to look my best for you, daddy!”

“Tell me you’re gonna stay tonight,” he demands before assaulting your neck with kisses.

“You know I can’t,” you whimper, trying to remember exactly why you can’t stay over (even though they’re honestly so many reasons).

“Sweetheart-”

“I have a job, daddy! I can’t...fuck, please fuck me!” you beg as you feel your release coming on.

“Look at that, haven’t even gotten your clothes off, and you’re already begging me,” he taunts against your neck, and you feel his smart-ass smirk.

“Daddy, please!”

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you, baby. Especially since that other asshole can’t, and on your anniversary of all days,” he tuts.

Yeah, Ransom is sick, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off. He loves bringing up that Jack is piece of shit, and you love when he does. It’s nice to hear someone besides you acknowledge it.

Ransom takes his time pulling you apart, loving the way you beg him for more and telling him that no one has ever made you feel as good as he does. Yeah, he loves your body and loves fucking you senseless, but you know that’s one of his major kinks. For whatever reason, he needs to hear you tell him that he’s a better lover than Jack. He needs it the way people need oxygen. Whatever happened between him and Jack has made him desperate for gratification from you. At this point, you’re sure you’ll never know, but why should it matter at this point? You both take what you need from each other, and then go your separate ways.

Whatever their issues are,are between them.

“Ya know,” Ransom starts as he lights his cigarette, “I think you wore that  dress cause you knew I wouldn’t rip it.”

“You’re not wrong,” you laugh as you lay your head on his chest.

The amount of times you’ve had to lie about where your dresses have disappeared to, and have had to hide the clothes that Ransom sends you home in is starting to become an issue.

“Call out tomorrow.”

“Stop it, Ransom,” you sigh, sitting up.

“What? Call out and stay here tonight.”

“Why do you always want me to stay here?”

“I like falling asleep next to you,” he shrugs before taking a drag from his cigarette.

“I’ve gotta get back,” you mutter, ignoring how happy his little statement makes you.

“Why, Y/N? What are you so desperate to get back to?”

“I’m not desperate for anything and you know that. However, at the end of the day, I’m still married to Jack, your best friend. I can’t just stay out all night.”

“One,” he sighs as he sits up and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, “he isn’t my best friend. Two, he stays out all night, why can’t you?”

“It’s what expected of him, not me.”

“Don’t you get tired of making everyone else happy, but being miserable the whole time?”

“Ransom, please don’t-”

“Call out,” he encourages as he kisses you shoulder.

“Stop it, you know I can’t,” you moan, trying to hold on to the little bit of resolve you have left.

“You can do whatever you want, baby,” he presses as he ashes his cigarette, “and I know you wanna stay with me.”

“Ransom, don’t. You know-”

“I know you’re not happy,” he interrupts as he ashes his cigarette, “I know that being here with me is when you’re happiest,” he continues before trailing kisses all along your collar bone.

“Ransom-”

“Tell me the truth,” he begs pathetically, as his hand travels between your legs, finding that bundle of nerves that always makes you come alive for him.

“I...I...”

“You want me over him, don’t you?”

“Don’t-”

“Tell me the truth, Y/N. Right now, you need me more than you need him?” he questions as he picks up his pace.

“Fuck! Yes! I need...need you so much, Ransom!”

“There’s my good girl,” he chuckles before pushing down and straddling you, “gonna make you forget all about the piece of shit husband of yours,” he promises as he thrusts himself inside of you.

Ransom gets his way (as always), because after the last session, you’re in no condition to drive anywhere, let alone in any mood. As you settle against him, your head on his chest, you faintly hear him saying something, but you���re too exhausted to ask him what he’s saying. Instead, you drift off to him gently stroking your back, pretending this is how your life always is.

Pretending you’re always this content.

**

“You okay? You seem a little flustered,” your assistant, Danielle, notes as she drops off more files for you.

“I’m fine,” you lie with a shy smile, “I just feel flustered because I was a little late today.”

“You’re much farther along than planned,” she laughs as she goes to exit the room, “plus, last night was your anniversary. I’m sure that’s a fair reason for you to be a little late,” she smirks and you laugh. “Just don’t forget to breathe,” she laughs before exiting your room.

‘Don’t forget to breathe.’

You laugh harder than you mean to, because you feel like you haven’t been able to breathe since you left Ransom’s this morning.

When your alarm went off this morning, Ransom groaned and protested, telling you that missing a day of work wouldn’t be bad for you. Much to his dismay (and yours), you held strong and told him that you had to go. Besides the fact that you had been out all night, you know that you need to stop whatever the hell is going on between you and Ransom.

So, as a form of protest, he teased you until you were desperate to ride his face, which then resulted into him fucking you senseless for an hour.

You were an hour and a half late for work.

However, the real reason you’re so flustered, is because you don’t understand Ransom, at all. He doesn’t want commitment, he doesn’t do love, and he doesn’t do loyalty. Hell, he’s happily sleeping with his best friend’s wife, but you’re supposed to believe that he’d actually commit to you full time?

There’s no way you’d ever let yourself believe that. You let yourself give Jack the benefit of the doubt, and look how that’s going.

So, instead of dealing with any of your thoughts, you decide to work your ass off instead, because you need something besides your current drama filled life to focus on.

“Shit, you really do work your ass off,” Ransom chuckles causing you to jump.

“Ransom! What...you can’t be here!” you whisper as he closes the door.

“Why not?”

“Ransom-”

“Relax, sweetheart. Not gonna fuck in here...just yet,” he smirks as he takes a seat in front of your desk, “I figured you could use a lunch break.”

“What?”

“Well, I know I ate breakfast this morning-”

“Ransom!”

“But you didn’t,” he laughs. “Clearly, you didn’t go home, so you didn’t make yourself a lunch. So lets go out and get something to eat.”

“I can’t just-”

“You’re not a robot, sweetheart. You need to eat.”

“Ransom...why?”

“You said the other night that I don’t know anything about you, and while that’s far from the truth, I realized that you don’t really know anything about me.”

“Ransom-”

“I like you, Y/N. You know how often I beg someone for anything? How often I let a woman stay the night? Never. I like you and I’m pretty damn sure you like me.”

“Sex doesn’t equal affection.”

Ransom just laughs and shakes his head before saying, “lunch is just a meal, darlin’. I don’t plan on fucking you on the table, unless you beg me to, so I don’t see the harm in any of it.”

“Ransom.”

“It’s just lunch,” he repeats.

Why can’t you ever tell him no?

“I only have an hour for lunch,” you mutter with a frustrated sigh.

“You can take a little longer than that.”

“Ransom-”

“Sweetheart, you’re never late to work. You’re allowed to have an off day.”

“And how would you know?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he smirks as he gets up, “I like you.”

Against your better judgement, you get up and grab your jacket, before following him out of the building with everyone’s eyes on the both of you. Ransom has a reputation, so it only make sense that everyone is wondering what the fuck you’re doing with him. At his insistence, you ride along with him in his Beamer to wherever the hell hes decided you two should eat at for lunch. The car ride is silent, mainly because you don’t know what to say and Ransom loves how uncomfortable you are, but a small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls up to the restaurant.

No, it wasn’t anything fancy, but it definitely wasn’t necessarily cheap.

“Ransom...you don’t...we can go someplace else.”

“Just think of this as our first date,” he laughs as he shuts off the engine. “Besides, seafood is your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Ransom, if anything, this is an early dinner and I have to get back to work-”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do?”

“I told your job that I want you in charge of the changes we’re making to the look of the publishing company.”

“No...Ransom, you didn’t! Jack-”

“Won’t suspect a fucking thing because he’s an idiot. Plus, this is a business lunch or dinner since I’ve already hired you.”

“You don’t even know-”

“I imagine you’re paid so well and so high up in the company for a reason, right?”

“Ransom, I-”

“I have faith you’re not gonna fuck this up. So, stop stressing, and lets go eat, okay?”

It’s more of a demand than a request, but you follow his lead nonetheless and follow him into the restaurant, fighting the urge to hide into yourself as you’re both seated. Ransom’s gaze on you is invasive and you do your absolute best to avoid it as you look around the restaurant.

Why the fuck did you agree to this?

“Welcome to Fish, my name is Jonathan and I’ll be your server tonight,” the waiter smiles at the both of you as he approaches the table, “can I start you both off with drinks?

“I’ll have a water-”

“She’ll have a Mai Tai and I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” Ransom interrupts with an irritated sigh.

“Coming right up,” the waiter smiles before walking off.

“Ya know, we’re not going to get anywhere if you’re tense the entire time,” he mutters as he looks over his menu.

“I don’t know exactly know what it is that you want from me.”

“Would it helped if I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Stop it, Ransom!” you snap quietly as he lets out a full bodied laugh.

“Jesus, it’s just drinks, food, and conversation. Relax.”

“Says the one who isn’t married. How the fuck do you even know you like me?”

“I’ve liked you for a while.”

“Yeah okay.”

“I mean it.”

“How long is a while, Ransom?”

“Remember in first grade? When Tommy Smotts was picking on me about my clothes?”

“You...you remember that?”

“I think about it every day.”

“You never said anything...you never spoke to me.”

“Why would I? You were nice and, in the world we live in, there’s no room for nice people. I kept waiting for you to turn into this bitchy party girl, like every other girl did, but you just kept being sweet and kind. Then you met Jack.”

“If you liked me, why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you let Jack scoop me up?”

“Why not? It wasn’t my business or concern. You’re both adults and capable of making your own choices-”

“But you wanted me and, from what I’ve heard, you’re the king of getting what you want.”

“You’re different.”

“How so?” you ask as the waiter places your drinks down.

“Can I start you two off with some appetizers?”

“No, but keep the drinks coming. We’ll be here for a while,” Ransom smirks, his eyes never leaving you.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into now?

**

“He’s such a liar! That’s not what happened at all!” you laugh as your next round of drinks are brought out.

“That’s what Jack said!” Ransom laughs.

“He’s a fucking liar! That’s not what happened at all! He locked us out of the Air BnB because he’s hard headed, then talked me into scaling the side of the house because he was afraid he’d fall and break something.”

“You scaled the side of a house for him even though it was his fault?”

“In my defense, I was in love,” you shrug as you take a sip of your drink.

“So, what do you know about me?” Ransom asks as he sits back a little, signature smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t know anything about except that you like to fuck.”

“What have you heard about me?” he chuckles.

“A lot of unkind things.”

“I can take it.”

“You’re a scumbag, you only lookout for yourself, you’re a cheater, a liar, you have a terrible temper, you had a hand in Harlan’s murder, you treat women like trash....the list goes on.”

“Yet, you chose to start this relationship with me.”

“It’s not a relationship, Ransom. We fuck and that’s it.”

“Then why do you stay whenever I tell you to?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the last few months.”

“Because you like me too.”

“I like the way you fuck me.”

“You’re still gonna hide behind that after everything?”

“I’m not hiding from anything, Ransom. I’m married to someone else, and in all honesty, this shouldn’t have ever started.”

“Then why did you let it start?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state.”

“And the second time?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state,” you smirk and he laughs.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Why you want me.”

“I like you.”

“Ransom, that’s not a fucking reason.”

“It is for me. I’ve never been infatuated with someone for this long, it only makes sense that I should act on it, don’t you agree?”

“It wasn’t enough for you to stop the wedding.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Ransom-”

“I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot and more than I should. I’m not going to tell you to leave him, because it’s not enough for you is it? I don’t want to commit and you don’t wanna commit to me because you have no reason to.”

“Ransom-”

“But you’re still here though, aren’t you?”

“So what?”

“You want to explore this as much as I do.”

“I don’t want to explore anything with you, Ransom,” you sigh as your phone starts going off. “Jesus Christ.”

“You can answer him.”

“I don’t want to answer him. God, how is this my life now?”

“You can always come with me.”

“Ha ha,” you mumble before taking a long sip of your drink. “It’s late, I have to get back.”

“We haven’t eaten yet.”

“What is this Ransom? Why are you fucking with me?”

“I’m not, I told you; I like you.”

“You don’t-”

“You love to dance around while you cook, you think pants are ridiculous and that’s why you’re always wearing dresses and skirts, you love horror movies but have to watch something funny after or you can’t sleep, you love football and baseball, you’ll listen to anything but you favor 90’s grunge, you spend the first half of your Saturdays watching cartoons, you spend most of your holiday time volunteering at shelters, should I go on?”

“...how...”

“I pay more attention than you think, sweetheart. That crystal blue earring and necklace dragonfly set Jack got you for your two year anniversary? That was my idea because he doesn’t pay any fucking attention to you and doesn’t have a fucking clue what you like,” he mutters, frustration very apparent.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I told you why.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Y/N-”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this. Answer the question.”

“I just...”

“You just what?”

“You were never gonna give me a chance, Y/N. Between my reputation, my shitty family...you have more reasons to say no than yes.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“What would you have said?”

“Then? I honestly don’t know. Now? No.”

“Why no now?!”

“Ransom, that can’t be a serious question.”

“You like me-”

“I don’t know you! I just...you just...it’s complicated, Ransom. All of this is so complicated. I just wanna go away.”

“Lets go away together,” he suggests as if it’s not a big deal.

“You’re hilarious, truly. You could be a fucking comedian.”

“Lets fucking go. It���s not like Jack will notice. He barely pays attention to you now,” he mutters.

“Thanks for that,” you snap as your phone goes off again. “Fuck, let me just...hello?”

“I’ve been calling you for over an hour!” Jack snaps. “Where have you been?!”

“I do have a job, ya know. I decided to treat myself to dinner.”

“You haven’t been home-”

“Can we not do this? I put up with your shit last night and I don’t fucking feel like dealing with it again tonight.”

“Y/N...I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t want it to happen that way. I really...I wanted to get it right.”

“Funny how you always want to get it right and still fuck it up every single time.”

“Just come home, please? I’ll make it up to you-”

“It was our fucking anniversary and you embarrassed me, yet again, in front of the people you insisted we have over. There’s no way can make it up to me. It’s done. Four years of this shit-”

“Stop it. You know I love and would do anything for you-”

“No, I don’t know any of that, because you’ve never shown or proved any of that.”

“Just come tonight and I’ll-”

“Why should I, Jack? Give me a good fucking reason.”

“Because I love you,” he sighs and you can tell that he’s tired.

Yeah well, you’re tired too.

“I don’t feel like doing this with you, Jack. Not today.”

“Please just come home-”

“What for?”

“You’re my wife, Y/N. You should already be-”

“Me being your wife doesn’t seem to stop you from all of the shady shit you always fucking do.”

“Please-”

“I don’t know, I might stay at Daisy’s again.”

“I don’t like you staying over there! She stays out all night and-”

“So do you,” you laugh incredulously, “at least she pays attention to me.”

“Honey-”

“I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later,” you sigh before hanging up.

“Ya know, he’s gonna text me soon. Should I tell him I have plans or...”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Ransom. I-”

“Why not? It’s not like he’s being faithful to you, so what’s the big deal?”

“Because this isn’t who I am, Ransom. This is never the life I wanted! It’s not...it’s not the life I thought I’d....” you sigh as you wipe away a lone tear.

Why can’t you be more selfish? Why can’t you jus walk away from all of this?

“Lets go away together, just you and me,” Ransom suggests again.

“That’s not funny-”

“I’m not joking.”

“We can’t just go away-”

“He isn’t going to notice, baby. I know you don’t want to face that fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s just that: a fact. Tell him it’s for work, and we’ll go wherever you want.”

“Ransom...this isn’t a relationship.”

“It can be.”

“No, it really can’t. We can’t keep-”

“You like me, babe.”

“Whether I do or not-”

“You do.”

“Ransom, I’m married. It doesn’t matter that Jack is an asshole, this isn’t me. Sleeping around and having a “relationship” on the side...God, what the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“You’re unhappy.”

“You’re never going to commit to me-”

“You don’t know that.

“Well would you? Would you walk away from all of it just for me?”

“Would you?”

“I’m not the one with something to prove, Ransom. You have reputation, I don’t.”

“That’s fair,” he sighs as he leans back.

“I need to get home.”

“You need to eat.”

“Ransom-”

“Another round of drinks?” the waiter asks with a smile.

Before you can even think, Ransom is answering, “she’ll have the crab-stuffed lobster and I’ll take the surf and turf, and yeah, we’ll take another round of drinks.”

The waiter just smiles and nods before walking off.

“I have to go!”

“You haven’t eaten all day and you’ve had 4 Mai Tai’s. I’m not taking you back on an empty stomach.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It seems that’s all I ever do these days,” he mutters as he finishes off the rest of his drink as the new ones arrive.

“So...what’s wrong with you?” you question softly, starting to play with your fingers.

“Excuse me?”

“Why does everyone think you’re so terrible?”

“Because I am,” he smirks, as if he’s proud of himself.

“Then what the hell is so special about me?”

“Because you’re not like everyone else here. You’re not like the other...you didn’t let all of this shit leave you jaded. Even now, dealing with Jack and me...you’re being nicer than either of us deserve...I tried, okay? I just wanted to fuck and that would’ve been fine, but you...you’re still the same girl I had a crush in kindergarten, whether you see it or not.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Daisy is still your best friend and she’s probably one of the biggest party girls around. You’ve never been anything but loyal to her and you’ve always defended her. Whenever you bother to go out, you laugh the loudest and dance until your feet hurt or your heels break. You still donate entirely too much money to charities and I know that you still give money to homeless guys on the street. You’re actually a good person, Y/N. Maybe if I wasn’t such a piece of shit, I would have pursued you a while ago, but I know that I’m not worthy of you. Hell, no one in this little group of shit heads is, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want you. I want you to myself and I want you bad. Why do you think I never kick you out of bed? Always beg you to stay? Beg at all?

Then Jack just fucking parades you around all the goddamn time...the fuck is so special about him? I took notice of you before everyone else did, so why the fuck does he get to be married to you? Why the fuck does he get to have your love and affection?” he scowls as the food is delivered.

Cue light bulb.

“Ransom, am I....did Jack steal me from you?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Ransom-”

“He didn’t even pay attention to you until I said something about you. I was fucked up at some fucking event my parents were throwing...you were wearing that dress with the fucking flowers...the one I destroyed last month, which really wasn’t my fault because your tits looked amazing in it. Anyway, I said something about how you always look beautiful and it’s frustrating...two weeks later, he’s flirting with you at your parents fucking dinner party.”

“So why...he never actually wanted me?”

“He did, but he didn’t see a reason to act on it until I said something. Apparently, I get everything I want and he wasn’t about to let that happen again. The thing is, I never would have gone after you, Y/N. Seeing you with him though...Y/N, he’s a fucking bastard and you know it.”

“So this just a pissing competition between the two of you?!”

“Can’t be much of a competition if he doesn’t know we’re seeing each other.”

“We’re not-”

“Yes we are, Y/N. Yeah, it’s just fucking, but you have feelings for me just as much as I have feelings for you. I may be the one asking you to stay over, but you always do. You’re in just as deep as I am.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say that we can go away together and explore this more.”

“Ransom, I’m married-”

“To a complete piece of shit! Babe, you know you can leave him. You can leave and do whatever you want.”

“Like taking a chance on you?”

”Would it really be so bad?” he asks so softly, you barely hear him.

“Ransom, I just can’t take-”

“Why not? What’s so wrong with it? It’s a bit too fucking late have a moral compass about all of this.”

“You didn’t have to kiss me.”

“And you could’ve said no,” he replies with a coy smirk, but his tone lets you know that he’s hurt.

“I have to get back.”

“Eat.”

“Ransom-”

“Eat first and then I’ll take you back to your car,” he sighs in defeat.

The rest of the time spent at the restaurant is spent in silence and you feel like shit. Ransom is a lot of things, but you can tell he meant everything he said. When it was time to pay, Ransom whipped out his wallet before you could even reach for your purse. When you try and thank him, he just shakes his head and offers you a small smile.

When the fuck did all of this get so complicated?

“I can pay you back for the dinner,” you mumble softly once Ransom pulls up next to your car in the parking garage.

“It’s on me.”

“It was expensive-”

“It wasn’t expensive at all.”

“Okay, to normal people, it was expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he chuckles softly.

“We’ve got to stop, Ransom. This isn’t...it’s better if we stop.”

“Do you want to?”

“That’s not the point-”

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop?” he asks, taking your chin in his forefinger and forces your attention on him.

You don’t have the strength to lie and tell him ‘no’, because you don’t want to stop. Everything you’ve been looking for from Jack, Ransom gives you without hesitation. No, it’s not love, but there’s still affection, passion, and pleasure.

God, so much fucking pleasure.

The fact that you’re not saying a thing lets him know that he has you, and without hesitation, he’s dipping down and kissing you passionately.

And just like that, you’re reminded why you can’t quit him.

His kisses are always so desperate and urgent, but he’s got the softest fucking lips. No matter how aggressive and filthy the sex is, there’s still a softness in the way that he holds you. The way he caresses your face, grips your hair, cradles you...it all feels like heaven.

Ransom always feels like heaven.

In no time at all, you’re climbing into his lap and straddling him. Since he ripped off your panties last night, the only one who has to do any work is him.

“Always so wet for me, baby,” he groans as he teases your clit.

“You make me feel so good, Ransom! I can’t get enough,” whimper, grinding yourself against his hard length.

“You want me, sweetheart?”

“I always want you, daddy!”

“Then take it, baby. Take whatever you want from me, I’m yours,” he husks against your neck before kissing it.

Yes, you’re the one who keeps saying that you two need to stop, but it’s hard to think straight whenever his lips are anywhere on your body.

The gasp that leaves your mouth as you slide yourself down on his length has him smirking against your neck, “I love it when you make that sound.”

“You stretch me so good, baby,” you moan as you start to ride him.

Since you two are in the drivers seat of his car, your body is pressed up against his, and that makes his tight grip on you that much more pleasurable. Feeling his breath on your skin makes you all that much more desperate in the most pleasurable way.

“Could get lost in you forever,” he grunts, thrusting up into you, causing you to lull your head back and moan, “you look so fucking beautiful, baby. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You look down at him, your hair falling in front of your face, and you start thinking about it. Yeah, pleasure is slightly clouding your judgement, but would it really be so bad to go away with him? Seeing if there’s anything more to this than just sex? Hes got a point: you are tired of making everyone else happy while you’re miserable, and for however fleeting it is, Ransom makes you happy.

However, the fact remains that Ransom is Ransom, and you’re terrified of getting hurt again.

“Gonna...gonna cum soon, baby,” you moan, gripping his shoulders tight.

“Give it to me, sweetheart! Cum hard for daddy!”

“Fuck!” you gasp as you squirt hard, leaning your forehead against his as he fills you with his desire, a low guttural growl leaving his mouth as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

You really do wish you could just stop.

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t, baby,” you breathe, pushing your hair back as you lift your head up.

“Sweetheart-”

“I’ve gotta go, Ransom. Thank you for dinner,” you smile at him before kissing him softly.

You ease yourself off of him slowly, navigating your way back to the passengers seat as gracefully as you can while his release drips down your leg, and smooth out your dress. You take a deep breath before grabbing your purse and getting out of Ransom’s car.

You don’t know why your seems to break a little, telling yourself that it’s not because you feel something other than desperate desire for Ransom, because why would you? How could you? You barely know the man. But you know it’s a lie. Somehow, Ransom has found a place in your heart.

He did the moment you opened your legs for him the first time.

**

It’s been forever since you’ve fucked in a car, so it makes sense that your legs are sore as you walk up the steps to the place where you live. As you fish through your purse for your house key, the door whips open revealing a furious Jack.

Great.

“Where the fuck were you?!” he demands as soon as you walk in.

“I told you that I took myself out for dinner, as usual, you weren’t listening,” you mutter, hanging your jacket up and kicking your shoes off.

“I called Daisy and she said that you hadn’t been by since you left for work this morning!”

Thank you Daisy for knowing when to lie.

“Are you fucking high? Cause that’s the only way to explain this conversation.”

“Don’t get cute with me!” he snaps, following you into the kitchen.

Yeah, he’s high as shit.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad about information you already knew, but okay, lets have another senseless argument. What’s wrong with poor old Jack tonight?” you sigh as reach for a glass.

“You don’t stay out all fucking night, Y/N! You can’t-”

“You do it all the fucking time, Jack! At least you knew where the fuck I was,” you scoff, pouring yourself a glass of whiskey.

When the hell did you start drinking so much?

“That’s different! I’m trying to save this-”

“Please do not say this marriage,” you laugh incredulously, finally turning to face him. “You’ve done nothing make sure this marriage fails for the last two fucking years. So no, you don’t get to stand here and bitch to me because you had to jerk your own dick for the last few months when you can’t find a cunt to get cozy in,” you spit, venom laced in every word.

You see the storm brewing in his eyes before you feel the sting across your face.

Yes, he’s come close to hitting a few times, especially when he’s fucked up, but hes never actually done it.

Your shock soon turns into an all consuming rage and you slap him back, with as much force as you can muster.

“You little bitch!” he yells before lunging at you.

Before you know it, you two are in an all out brawl in the kitchen. Thank God the the knives are in the drawers, because nothing seems to be off limits. If Jack isn’t hitting you with his fists or a plate, he’s biting you, and if can’t kick him, you’re reaching for whatever the closest object is and smashing him over the head with it. However, in the end, he gets the upper hand and is straddling you, beating you as if you’re the one who started this mess of a marriage in the first place.

When all is said, you lay on the floor bloodied and bruised, as he catches his breath and slowly rises to his feet.

“You are my wife, Y/N. It’s time you start fucking act like it. Don’t make me have to put you in line again. When I get back, I expect all of this shit to be cleaned up,” he demands, kicking you before he walks out of the kitchen.

You quietly sob as you hear him shuffle around, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys, before you finally hear the front door slam. This is why you’re sticking around? To be some piece of shit’s personal punching bag when you give him a taste of his own medicine? No, there has to be a life that’s better than this.

You give yourself a few moments to get yourself together, before you finally pull yourself up and pour yourself another drink, seeing as the other one was ruined when you threw the glass at Jack. You hobble out to the living area where your purse is and grab it, searching through it until you find your phone and calling the only person you have the strength and energy for at the moment.

“Hey babe, I’m on my way out. What’s up?” Daisy asks when she finally answers the phone.

“I need you to take me to the hospital,” you mumble since your lips have started to swell.

“What happened?!”

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

With that, you hang up and make your way back into the kitchen, trying to ignore the pain in your heart that seems to outweigh the physical pain you’re feeling. You take a seat on a bar stool and resume your drinking when you feel your phone buzz.

Part Time Lover: I know you said no, but just come over tonight. I know Jack is out, cause he just called me all fucked up, so just stay over. Jesus, you can even start keeping clothes here if you want, I just want you here.

You don’t mean to laugh (mainly because it fucking hurts), but what else can you do? Not only did your husband just beat the shit out of you, but now you have Ransom practically begging you to start a relationship with him. You went from having the perfect life to living in a goddamn soap opera, and you’re not even sure who’s in charge anymore.

Cause it sure as shit isn’t you.

You’re in the middle of pouring your second drink when there’s a pounding on your door. You make your way over to it as fast as you can, your new limp slowing you down, but when you open the door you wish you would have taken time because as soon as you open the door.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Daisy yells as she makes her way inside.

“Please, I can’t do yelling right now.”

“Y/N-”

“Jack and I got into a fight. He won.”

“Jack did this?!”

“He stays out all night and it’s fine. I stay out all night and this happens.” “Yeah, he called me about that. Where the hell were you?”

“I’m not really ready to talk about that just yet. Can you please take me to the hospital? I’ve too many drinks and my entire body hurts, and I need to change the locks before that piece of shit gets home.”

“Yeah, c’mon. Lets get you fixed up,” she sighs, grabbing your sweater off the coat rack and helping you get into it.

“I need you to help me with the locks being changed, please.”

“Anything, whatever you need,” she promises as she helps you to her car.

“Dais, I promise I’ll tell where I was...what I’ve been up to, I just-”

“That doesn’t matter right now, wen just need to get you some help.”

It’s time like these that you’re extremely grateful for Daisy. No, you don’t have a habit of getting beat up by anyone, but Daisy always knows when to press on certain subjects and when to let them go. Yes, you still wish that she could suck it up from time to time and just be there for you when you need her, but she still shows up for you more than anyone else, and supports all of your good decisions more than anyone else.

By the time you show up at the hospital and are shown a room, you just want to go to bed. You know that you need to do this so that you can get some sort of restraining order against Jack, but you’re just so fucking tired. You’re about to tell Daisy your plan when your phone starts buzzing again.

Part Time Lover: Alright, what the fuck is going on? Jack just showed up with a busted lip, a bruise on his jaw, and there’s swelling around his right eye. He’s also bleeding from his ear and it looks like a bite mark? What the hell happened?!

Y/N: Don’t let him leave your house.

Part Time Lover: What happened? Are you okay?

Y/N: Ransom, do not let him leave your house.

Part Time Lover: I’m coming over.

Y/N: Ransom, please. Just keep him there and I don’t know, get him drunk or something.

Part Time Lover: Fine.

“Alright,” you tell Daisy softly, “Jack is at Ransom’s. Call Dan’s Locksmith Shop and tell them you need an emergency job done and that cost isn’t an issue. Meet them there-”

“What about you? I can’t leave you here-”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll take a car service or something.” “Babe-”

“Daisy, I want him out of the house. Please, you can sleepover tonight if it’ll make you feel better, but I’ll feel a lot better once this is done. Please.”

“Fine,” she sighs in frustration.

“Now, they’re three hidden entrances, do you remember?”

“Yeah, and the trick window by the cellar.”

“Perfect. Now, have two keys made. One for me and one for you-”

“I get a key?”

“You always get a key,” you smirk and she laughs. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home,” you promise.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be alone?”

“I’ll be fine, please.”

“Alright alright,” she sighs, kissing your forehead before making her way out.

As she goes out, the doctor comes in, and immediately gives you a look of pure sympathy.

That’s the last thing you want right now.

“Looks like you got beat up pretty bad. Wanna tell me what happened?” he asks softly, taking a seat on the chair in front of you.

You mean to tell the truth but what comes out instead is, “I got into a car accident.”

Filling out the paperwork would be a bitch and you don’t want the whole damn county in your business. You’re not even a member of the country club, but even you know how badly those women gossip and how vicious they can be. Not even thinking about how much you don’t wanna hear your mother’s thoughts on the situation, you don’t want to deal with the looks, the whispers, and the sympathetic looks.

‘Poor little Y/N, ended up in the same type of marriage as her mother.’

You’re not about to the new town gossip topic.

You can tell that the doctor doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it

. “Well, we should take a few x-rays and you’re gonna need some stitches.”

“Stitch me up, doc,” you smile weakly.

As the night goes on and you get fixed up, you can’t stop thinking about everything Ransom said. The fact that he remembered you sticking up for him all those years ago, how he never asked you out because of fear of rejection, and Jack.

The fact that your husband only went after you out of pure spite...how could you not see it? The more you think about it, the more you see all the signs you missed and you just want to kick yourself. At least Ransom had a slightly more believable story, because you both had that interaction...that one time, but with Jack...you two had never even spoken until that day. The more you think about it, the more you want to cry.

While doctor finishes up the last few stitches over your eye, you try and think about what your next move is. How the hell do you get out of your marriage and what the fuck are you gonna do about Ransom?

**

It’s been two weeks since the fight with Jack, which means that its been two weeks since hes stepped foot into the house.

That was a shit show.

“Y/N, are you fucking serious?! You changed the fucking locks on me?! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” he screamed, pounding on the door outside.

“You’re okay, I promise,” Daisy tried to reassure you as shook in her arms with tears streaming down your face. “He can’t get in here, I made them check multiple times that everything was taken care of.”

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, Y/N! THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE TOO!” he roared, only pounding on the door harder.

Eventually, he got fed up and called the cops, but the minute they saw your face they told him it may be best for him to go somewhere else. That’s when the constant calling and texting started. A million apologies, promising that it’ll never happen again, telling you that he just wasn’t himself that night, and a million other useless promises. When that didn’t work, he called for help from your mother.

That didn’t make anything better.

“Y/N, open up this damn door right now and tell me what the hell is going on!” she screeched from the other side of the door.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you made your way over to the front the door.

The second you opened the door, her whole demeanor changed. “Oh sweetheart...he didn’t say....what did you do to provoke him?”

“This is my fault?!”

“I’m just saying...you know his father has a temper and I know that you can push buttons sometimes-”

“Okay, I’m you fucking daughter! Just this one time, can you take my side?!”

“I’m not saying that I’m not, it’s just...you already make more money than him and you know it bruises his ego-”

“Then maybe he should work harder instead of sleeping with every woman that flashes herself at him!”

“I’m not trying to make you upset-”

“Then you wouldn’t have asked what I did to provoke him! Jesus Christ! I stayed in this marriage for you! I tried to make it work for you! And this,” you emphasized as you pointed to your face, ��is what happened! So you don’t get to come here and make me feel like shit!” you screamed at her.

She didn’t say anything else, she just nodded and walked away.

There was also the Ransom issue.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he asked him to keep Jack at his house, and he was getting fed up. It doesn’t help that he still doesn’t know what the hell happened, so after the fourth day of you ignoring him, he decided to act on revenge.

Which backfired on him.

“Hey, remember that house party Ransom had a month ago? The one where he fucked that chick on his balcony for everyone to see?” Daisy asked with a sly smirk on her face as she brought dinner into the bedroom.

You froze almost instantly, “uhm, I don’t think I was there.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I saw you there. I know for a fact that Jack was there.”

“I didn’t go because I didn’t feel like watching Jack flirt with other girls.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s why you let Ransom fuck you on his balcony.”

“Daisy-”

“He snitched on himself,” she laughed, loving the shocked look on your face. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you! Not only did you cheat on Jack in front of everyone, but you also got your insides re-arranged in public?! Little Miss Modesty?!”

“Stop it, Dais,” you commented, feeling so incredibly small.

“What?! I’m fucking proud, honestly. Fuck Jack, at least now you’ve been fucked properly.”

“Dais-”

“You can’t tell me you feel bad about it!”

“It’s been going on for almost a year! I feel awful!”

“You’ve kept this from me for a year?!”

“I’ve kept it from everyone,” you sighed, feeling even worse, “we were just in our own little world and it was nice to have something for myself. It started on Jack and I’s vow renewal party last year, and every time I tried to stop...I just fucking couldn’t. Yeah, I know Ransom still sleeps around, but when I’m with him...Daisy, I just fucking forget how miserable I am for a while. Everything Jack hasn’t made me feel in the last few years, Ransom makes me feel, and I know, okay? I know it’s wrong and all of that, but he makes it so fucking hard to quit.”

“That’s the Ransom effect for sure,” she scoffed.

“Wait, how did he snitch on himself?”

“Well, he brought me back to his house last night and we were in the middle of hooking up when he moaned your name.”

“Excuse me?!”

What a piece of shit.

“Oh God, what did I do wrong?”

“Not you, him,” you growled.

“Fuck.”

“The night that everything happened with Jack...he took me out to dinner and said all of these things...then, he goes and fucks you?! My best friend?!”

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s not on you, Dais, it’s him. Whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“I mean...I wouldn’t...ya know what? I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

“Oh no you don’t! Tell me!”

“You kept this whole thing from me for a year-”

“That’s different and you know it!”

“Babe-”

“Tell me, Dais.”

“I don’t know, maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe it’s because he’s annoyed that hes been having to play housemates with Jack for two weeks, but the man really does seem hurt.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, and he was drunk, but he admitted that he is worried about you. He’s mad that you won’t answer him...babe, why won’t you answer him? What happened?

“Daisy-”

“I never push, your secrets are always your own, but you’ve got to tell me something. This isn’t you, Ransom doesn’t care about anyone, but now he’s having revenge sex with your best friend, well...attempting to, and you’re getting mad about it? Ya gotta give me something, babe.”

So, you reluctantly told her everything. It’s not like you don’t trust Daisy with everything, but you were ashamed of yourself. You were ashamed of all of it. No matter what had happened between you and Jack, you weren’t a cheater. The relationship had turned you into someone you weren’t and for what? Some fractures, a busted lip, a few broken ribs, and a few too many bruises? Who the hell are you?

“It’s not like I want you to end up with Ransom,” Daisy started after you finished, “but I don’t think he’s lying.”

“Dais-”

“I’m not rooting for the kid-”

“He attempted to sleep with you, knowing that you’re my best friend-”

“Like I said, I’m not rooting for the guy, but I also get it. I genuinely do, from both sides. Ransom has never given a shit about anyone other than himself, at least not as far as anyone knows of, and then you came along. You gave him all the attention he wanted then took it away. Of course he doesn’t know how to react. I’ll definitely slash his tires the next time I see him, but I understand where he’s coming from.”

“He still tried to fuck you! He did!”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “his game was off and he didn’t cum. Plus, he was thinking about you, so that also takes points away. Tried is the right word.”

“Daisy!” you laughed, finally taking out your chopsticks and opening your container of dumplings. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

“Don’t lie to me, or yourself for that matter.”

“I’m not!”

“Babe, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have gotten so upset about him putting his dick in me,” she smiled sympathetically.

You hate that she had a point, because that meant all of the words he said to you in the restaurant actually meant something to you.

However, you’re still pissed at him, which is why you still haven’t responded to him.

You let out an aggravated sigh as your phone goes off for what feels like the millionth time. If it’s not Jack, it’s Ransom.

Part Time Lover: Jesus, can you just answer your fucking phone and talk to me?!

Y/N: Go away, Ransom.

Part Time Lover: WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?! I’M HOUSING YOUR HUSBAND RIGHT NOW! I THINK IT’S PRETTY FUCKING NICE OF ME SEEING AS HE’S WITH YOU AND I’M NOT!

Y/N: Besides try and fuck Daisy? Nothing.

Part Time Lover: Why are you mad at me if there’s nothing going on between us?

Y/N: You’re a fucking asshole, Ransom. I’m done with all of this shit.

Part Time Lover: The fuck you are! This is bullshit, I’m coming over!

Y/N: DO NOT!

When he doesn’t respond, you know you’re fucked and that he’s on his way. Besides the fact that you don’t want him to see you in your current state, you just don’t want to see him. Whatever you’re feeling towards him, you just want it go away, because he’s too much of a risk. You’re already in a fragile state and you need to start taking better care of your heart.

Yes, Ransom had shown you in his own way that he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but he also fucked Daisy all because you wouldn’t answer his calls and texts. He could have fucked anyone else, but he fucked Daisy to hurt you. You’re not about to leave Jack just to end up in the same damn situation.

You just want to start fresh. Hell, maybe you’ll even move. You’ve been tired of Marlborough for years anyway.

With an aggravated groan, you get out of bed and decide it’s time for you to figure out dinner. Daisy is probably gonna be out all night, so you really only need to worry about yourself. A sharp bang on your front door causes you to jump as you reach the landing, and you make a mental note to slap the shit out of Ransom when you’re back to full health.

“I know you’re home, Y/N! Open up so we can talk!” Ransom demands and you roll your eyes.

Home. What’s it like to have one of those?

“I’m not leaving and you know I’ll stand here all goddamn night if I have to! Open the fucking door!”

Besides the fact that you don’t want to get into a screaming match at 8pm, you really don’t want him to see all your scars and bruises. Hell, you’ve been working from home since everything happened. Ransom constantly calls you the most beautiful woman hes ever seen, but now? God, he’s gonna think you’re hideous now.

“Y/N!”

“What, Ransom?”

“I wanna talk to you, not your fucking door. Open up!”

“Ransom-”

“Jesus Christ, I’ll keep my fucking hands to myself, okay?! Open the fucking door!”

You let out a defeated sigh and unlock the door, cracking it a little and looking down, “what?”

“Will you please look at me? Listen, the Daisy thing was-”

“I don’t wanna talk about that and I don’t wanna talk to you. Now, please leave me alone.”

“Look at me.”

“Ransom-”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna see you, obviously.”

“Now you’re lying to me.”

“Stop it. Just go-”

“What don’t you want me to know? Does this have to do with why you kicked Jack out?”

“Ransom-”

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he demands but much softer now.

You say nothing as your eyes start to well up and you keep your gaze on your feet. You feel his finger on your chin and you turn away.

“Please,” you cry.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Please, look at me.”

You slowly look up and his eyes go from genuine concern to pure rage.

“Jack did this?” he asks, trying to keep an even tone, but his fists are clenched.

“He was mad that I didn’t come home that night, the one before we went to dinner at Fish...he was all fucked up when I got home and we got into an argument. Things were said, he got even more pissed off, then he slapped me. I slapped him back...we ended up fighting on the kitchen floor. Ransom, the only people who know are him, my parents, Daisy, and now you. Please don’t-”

“How bad was it?” “Ransom-”

“Sweetheart.”

“My lips were swollen, a broken rib, a few stitches-”

“A broken rib?! Did he fucking kick you?!”

“Ransom, please don’t-” “I’ll fucking kill him, I swear to God!”

“Ransom, stop it. I’m fine-”

“I know you don’t believe it, but you are mine. He doesn’t get to...I’m gonna snap his fucking neck!”

“Ransom please!”

“Are you okay? What can I do?”

“You don��t have to do anything, baby.”

God, that didn’t take long, did it?

“I’m gonna take care of that fucker-”

“Ransom please. I don’t need this getting out-”

“It won’t get out, but he doesn’t get to act like-”

“Please let it go.”

“No.”

With that, he was storming off towards his Beamer, slamming his door shut before speeding off.

Well, at least he didn’t run in the other direction when he saw you.

He’s so fucking hot headed though. You’ve heard about his temper, but you’ve never experienced it first hand. Yeah, it warms your heart that he’s so protective over you, but you don’t want him getting into trouble over you.

Especially when you aren’t even sure what the hell is going on between you two.

You don’t even have an appetite anymore. Instead, you make yourself a bag of popcorn and decide that a night of TV is whats best. Yeah, your phone is upstairs, but you’re spent. Horror films and popcorn will you set you straight for the night.

For the time being, you just want to forget.

**

“You like the party I threw for you, sweetheart?” Ransom grunted as he fucked into you hard from behind.

“F-for....for me?” you moaned, trying to think on anything other than the fact your body ached with pleasure.

Ransom had decided to throw a masquerade party and insisted that you come. He threw it together last minute, so you barely had a chance to get something together, but luckily the town Halloween shop had a few antique masks left.

It was very ‘Phantom of the Opera’ of him.

When you got there, Jack was already all over some brunette and you rolled your eyes, but you promised him you stay and make sure to say hi to him. In your defense, he was telling you all of this while he fucked you into your fourth orgasm while you two were in the shower.

You would’ve promised him anything.

When you finally spotted him in his study with a few of his friends, you smiled and gave him a small wave. You turned, ready to make your way to the kitchen, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“What the-”

The lips that cut you off instantly told you who it was. You were ready to push him until you remembered that you didn’t have to. Everyone was in masks, so it’s not like anyone would know it was you he was kissing. You barely ever left the house, no one would ever believe that you’re cheating on Jack, and it was a party at Ransom’s.

Everyone was probably already too fucked up.

“You came,” he breathed, once you broke apart.

“You asked me to,” you rasped, your mind in a haze from his surprisingly passionate kiss.

“Get yourself a drink and make your way up to my room.”

“What if someone’s in there?”

“No one here is dumb enough to do that,” he smirked as he went to walk away. “Keep your mask on,” he added before disappearing into the crowd.

At the time, you didn’t think anything of it. It was Ransom after all.

You made yourself a strong drink and made your way upstairs, ignoring all the sounds coming from the spare rooms. You were only a few sips in when Ransom burst into the room, closing his door and locking it.

“You look amazing, sweetheart,” Ransom complimented as he made his way over to you. In no time at all, he had your dress torn and off the floor. “Now, you look even better,” he laughed with that devilish grin of his.

From that moment on, the words you two were saying was ‘fuck me harder’, ‘you daddy’s fat cock so well,’ ‘please me cum, and things of those articulate nature.

So what the hell was talking about this being your party?

“Remember baby? That movie we watched the other night?” he husked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Movie? You two never watch any...oh. OH!

“Daddy-” “Got so fucking wet and excited for me watching that woman get fucked in front of everyone,” he cooed and you clenched around him at just the memory. “See? You loved it. So, daddy threw you this party so we could re-enact it.”

“C-can’t, daddy! So many people!”

“I’ll take care of that, Sweet Thing. That’s why daddy told you to keep the mask on. You’re my filthy little thing, and I don’t want anyone else knowing about it,” he growled before he pulled out, causing you to whine in dissatisfaction. “Go stand in front of that window, baby. Can’t fucking wait to fuck you like the nasty little thing you are.”

The logical part of your brain was screaming ‘FUCK NO! TOO FAR!’, but the blissed out part had you standing in front of that sliding glass door almost instantly. The fact that your husband was there and would more than likely recognize you didn’t seem to phase you at all. Ransom was the one who gave you everything you wanted, so Ransom was the one who got your loyalty at the end of the day.

No matter how fucked up or stupid that may have been.

“Look all the people who came to your party, pretty girl,” Ransom groaned as he easily slid cock back inside of you.

“Fuck!” you cried out, gripping the curtains tight as you tried to hold on.

You already knew you were gonna be sore in the morning.

“You know daddy would do anything to make you happy, right Sweet Thing? I’ll always take care of you...I’ll give you anything you want!”

“Daddy...I...”

“Gettin fucked so good you can’t even think huh?” he chuckled. “It’s about to get so much better, Sweet Thing.”

In one swift move, Ransom’s arm was around your waist and pulling you close, as his other hand undid the latch on the sliding glass door and he pulled it open.

Fuck.

“How’s everyone enjoying the party?!” he called as he walked you two out onto the balcony.

He was only met with cheers and cat calls, but you couldn’t feel any shame or embarrassment. Yes, it was wrong on so many levels, but the pleasure was just too much for you to focus on that at the moment. In that moment, you were living out one of your dirtiest fantasies with the man who worshiped your body and fucked you like you were the most important person in his world.

Guilt and shame be dammed.

Ransom bent you over and gripped the railing tight. You knew he was doing it to make sure you felt more comfortable, because that man had fucked you in so many positions, you knew him fucking you standing wouldn’t be a problem. With you bent over, your hair is covering your face, and even with a mask on, it makes it all that much harder to figure out just who the fuck you are. The gesture, though small and during a heinous act, was enough to tug on your heartstrings just a bit.

“Who’s that sweet little thing and when’s my turn?!” one of his friends called from below.

“I’m afraid she’s all mine,” Ransom laughed. “She’s such a good little slut, I’m too jealous to share. Isn’t that right, baby?”

All you can focus on doing is nodding, because your orgasm is building.

“I need to get me one!” Jack called and you mentally rolled your eyes.

Fucking idiot.

“Too fucked out again, baby?” Ransom coos in the condescending tone that always makes you whimper. “Be a good girl for daddy and I’ll take you back inside. The way this little snatch is clenching me...c’mon, cum for daddy!”

You cried out as your legs almost gave out and you squirted hard, Ransom’s grip on your waist getting tighter as he fucked you through your high and filled you with his own release.

“Atta boy!” Jack called, and if you weren’t so fucked out, you would have laughed.

“I think she agrees,” Ransom responded with a breathy laughed and a smirk to your face.

What a fucking asshole.

“Wanna go back inside and play some more, baby?”

You just nodded.

“Alright, my girl wants to go again, so I’ll see you fucks later!” he called and he was met a crowd of ‘boo’s. “I know, she puts on a hell of a show, doesn’t she?” he laughed as he pulled out.

In almost a blink of an eye, Ransom was lifting you upright, spinning you around, and carrying you back into his bedroom.

“You okay, sweetheart? Was it too much?” he asked as he closed the door and locked it.

Your response was to wrap your arms around him and kiss him like you hadn’t seen him in years.

“I guess not,” he laughed as when you two broke apart.

You both kept each other up for hours that night, and Ransom was so fucking gentle with you after all was said and done. It was almost like he was a completely different person.

“I meant what I said before,” he told you softly as you drifted off to sleep; your head on his chest as he gently stroked your arm.

“Hmm?” you questioned even though you were barely awake.

“I’d do anything to make you happy. I’ll always take care of you.”

“Why can’t you ever answer your damn phone?!” Daisy yells, waking you up from one of your favorite memories, as she runs into the house.

“It’s upstairs,” you answer with a yawn, stretching yourself as much as you can without hurting yourself.

“You should’ve come out tonight!”

“Dais, I am still missing a fucking rib. I don’t feel like going out.”

“You never felt like going out before you were missing a rib,” she scowls as she takes a seat next to you on the couch, “guess who made an appearance tonight!”

“I don’t know, Big Bird?”

“Have you had a drink? You’re more fun when you drink,” she bites, getting up and making her way into the kitchen.

“Daisy!”

“Just have a fucking drink!”

“It’s 1am and I’m on pain meds-”

“The last time you took them was at 7:30. You forget that I stay here, you can have a fucking drink, Y/N.”

“Am I really that terrible?”

“If you’re not crying, you’re yelling. While understandable, you need to feel other emotions besides misery and anger,” she mutters as she makes her way back into the living area with a whiskey neat.

“I’m just-”

“I know, babe. I really do, but you didn’t do this. He did. You wouldn’t have ever slept with Ransom if he would have been as loyal to you as he said he would have. Yeah, I’m not happy that you ended up staying, but you did try and leave. I really can’t stand your fucking parents,” she scowls. “Anyway, guess what happened at the club tonight!”

“You’re way too excited, so...sex?” “Not tonight, I came home early just for you!”

“1am is early?”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my God, what happened?!”

“Ransom beat the shit out of Jack!”

“WHAT?!” you yell, wincing in pain at the force behind it.

“He stormed into the club, in a full fucking rage, sought out Jack, and just started fucking laying into him!” “Fuck! I told him not to!” “I’m sorry, you knew that this was going to happen?!”

“He came by, mad that I wasn’t responding to his text and calls, and he saw me and got furious. I told him not to, but he was just so angry...”

“So, all of this is because Jack beat the shit out of you?”

“He said that I’m his and that Jack can’t do shit like this...God, he was so angry. I’ve heard about his temper, but I’ve never seen it up close.”

“Well...do you wanna see the fight?”

“You recorded it?!”

“Well, I tried FaceTiming you, but you didn’t answer,” she shrugs and you laugh softly. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! I enjoyed it!”

“Dais, I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Especially over me.”

“Babe, I love how genuine you are, but Jack is a piece of shit. He treats you like shit, he’s always making an ass out of himself and embarrassing you, he’s constantly cheating. Even tonight, he was making out with some woman at the bar, but he’s supposed to be trying to win your love back! Him getting his ass beat is what he deserves, I don’t feel bad at all.”

“I just want a fucking divorce!”

“Then get one!” “I can’t force him to sign the fucking papers, Dais. Did you forget the last time?”

“There has to be something...you filed a report, right?”

“No.”

“Y/N!”

“Please don’t, I just don’t wanna deal with the whispers, the stares, my mother...God, my fucking mother,” you scowl.

“Yeah, I’m still going to curse her out the next time I see her.”

“Daisy.”

“No, fuck her! ‘What did you do to provoke him?’ What the fuck is her problem?!”

“She’s a product of her environment. Her mother said the same thing to her the first time my father hit her.”

“You’re far too forgiving and understanding,” Daisy mumbles.

“I made peace with my issues with Jack a while ago. Whatever the hell is going on between Ransom and I...he didn’t need to do that.”

“He cares about you.”

“Dais-”

“You know I’m no great believer in love, but I’ve been telling you for years that his eyes are constantly on you, watching every little thing you do. He defended you that one time-”

“When did he ever defend me?”

“That time Jennie Taggs was making fun of you because your mother made a complete jackass out of herself at your sweet 16. She wouldn’t stop talking about it that following Monday, and Ransom casually asked her how much longer her father is gonna be in prison for money laundering.”

“I completely forgot about that!”

“In your defense, he said it then walked right out of the classroom. I think you had zoned out.”

“No, but I remember Jennie calling me a fucking bitch and you telling me what the hell happened. Okay fine, he watches me a lot and defended me that one time-”

“When have you ever seen him defend anyone? Really think about that question.”

“Dais-”

“He’s a piece of shit, but he’s a piece of shit whose always had a thing for you. He probably never asked you out because you would’ve been smart and said no.”

“That’s what he said,” you mutter before taking a sip of your drink.

“You talked to him about it?!”

“I told you he took me out to dinner-”

“But you didn’t say what was discussed.”

“He wants me to go away with him.”

“Do it.”

“Daisy!”

“What, Y/N? What is so wrong with letting him take you out and spoil you? And don’t you dare fucking say it’s because you’re married.”

“I am married!”

“Your husband beat the shit out of you, Y/N. It’s not exactly a healthy or functioning marriage.”

“Daisy, please-”

“Seeing if there’s something more doesn’t make you a bad person, hun. It would be one thing if Jack were actually good to you and trying to make things work, and you were out being a piece of shit. You have tried everything to try and make this marriage work, and hes gone out of his way to make sure it won’t, and then makes you feel like you’re crazy for not wanting to stay with him. I’m not saying you need to go on this trip and come back married, but for fucks sake, have some fucking fun! He clearly likes you, a lot, and you feel something for him. You don’t laugh like you used to anymore, you rarely leave the house, you’re miserable all the time, you cry constantly, and now this. Just go away with Ransom. You deserve a break.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m gonna go to bed though,” you sigh, finishing the rest of your drink before getting up.

“I have to go home for a few days-”

“Dais, you don’t have to keep staying here. I appreciate you looking out for me and taking care of me-”

“I don’t mind it. I know you’re still scared and you’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. It’s no problem at all.”

“Daisy-”

“I mean it, Y/N. I don’t mind doing any of this, I love you. It’s not a burden, you’re not being a bother, and I’m happy to do it.”

“You are probably the most selfless person I know.”

“That’s fucking tragic,” she laughs. “Is there anything I can do, babe?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna turn on TV and try and go back to sleep.”

“Please watch a horror movie and pretend that you’re the killer and the person you’re chasing is Jack,” she begs.

“Don’t make me laugh!” you chuckle, feeling pain all over. “I love you,” you tell her softly before dipping down a little and kissing her forehead.

“I love you too, babe. Get some rest.”

The second you’re in your room, you slowly make your way over to your bed and slowly get it, grabbing your phone and contemplate checking in. If Daisy had called you, Ransom had definitely tried to get in touch with you. You settle under your blankets and decide (against your better judgement) to check your phone.

5 texts from Ransom, 6 missed calls from Ransom, 12 missed calls from Babygirl, 6 FaceTimes missed from Babygirl, 3 texts from Babygirl, 10 texts from Piece of Shit.

You completely disregard Jack’s texts (like always), and go right to Daisy’s texts, laughing a little when you see that she sent you the fight along with a text that reads

‘Just in case you change your mind ;)’

Next...Ransom.

Part Time Lover: I saw Daisy at the club tonight, so I know you’re gonna hear all about me beating the shit out of Jack. I know you said not to, but seeing you like that...sweetheart, I couldn’t let it go.

Part Time Lover: We’re back to you ignoring my calls? Great.

Part Time Lover: Babe, just answer the phone and talk to me.

Part Time Lover: Are we really back to this? You’re this mad that I rightfully beat that piece of shit’s ass?

Part Time Lover: I’ll leave it alone for now, but this isn’t done.

You sigh in frustration, because you know you need to leave it alone, but you can’t. After tonight and all hes done, you can’t leave Ransom alone. You’re calling Ransom before you give yourself a fair chance to talk yourself out of it.

The phone barely rings before he answers it.

“Decided to stop being mad at me?” he answers with a slight slur and you sigh.

“I was sleeping. Daisy woke me up when she got home and told me about...”

“You can’t really be mad at me.”

“Ransom, I begged you not to-”

“He put you in the hospital-” “Ransom-”

“I kicked him out, sweetheart. He’s back in with his parents and-”

“Ransom, what do you want from me?”

He’s thoughtful before he says, “ I want you and I to take a trip together.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s not the worst idea, sweetheart. Just say yes. This will give us a chance to really know each other. Well, a chance for you to get to know me.”

“Where would we even go?”

“Where do you wanna go?”

You’re think a bit before saying, “they turn the river green in Chicago soon for St. Patrick’s Day...I’ve always wanted to go and watch...we can go together.”

“Chicago? That’s where you wanna go?”

“Ransom.”

“Okay okay, we’ll go. However, St. Patrick’s is a little more than a month away-”

“I still need to heal, babe.”

“I want to see you before then.”

You sigh before admitting, “Dais just told me she needs to go back to her house for a few days...I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if you stayed here.”

“You don’t have to sound so fucking miserable about it.”

“I don’t know what it is that you want from me, and I’m trying...I am married at the end of the day, and this is wrong. All of this is so wrong on everyone’s end-”

“God, you’re so fucking pure it’s painful.”

“Ransom, stop it.”

“I’ll stay over, okay?”

“No, never mind. Maybe-”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Why?”

“I like you a lot more than I should. I always have, like I told you. Seeing what you’ve had to put up with...I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“Ransom-”

“Just say yes,” he begs softly, again.

Your heart is answering before your brain has a chance to register, “o..okay. Only a few days.”

“That’s more than good enough for me.”

“Don’t start.”

“What time should I come over?”

“Whenever you’ve slept off the alcohol.”

“Y/N.”

“I guess in the afternoon? I don’t know. It’s not like this is the best idea.”

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything right.”

“If you really want me to back off, I will.”

“I don’t know what I want, Ransom! That’s the problem!”

“Yes you do, you just don’t wanna say it.”

“Ransom-”

“Just sleep. We both need sleep. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t be fucking mad.”

“Goodnight, Ransom.”

“Night,” he mutters before hanging up.

It’s not lost on you that hes only told you he put Jack out because he wants you to come over, but what the fuck are you supposed to do? Your body starts hurting at the thought of leaving the house, so driving is so far out of your mind right now.

Also, what the fuck?!

You’re supposed to just go over because he beat up your husband (which begged him not to do)? It’s a love letter you never fucking asked for and you, quite honestly, don’t need. If anything, it makes everything more complicated and annoying, because you know for a fact that he’s gonna tell his parents what happened and they’ll talk to your parents. The whole thing is a fucking nightmare and you wish you hadn’t told Ransom to come over or that you’ll go away with him.

Not enough to take it back though.

You and Ransom have been fucking around for a little over a year now, and he’s only now telling you that hes always had a thing for you. You don’t know if this is all just a mind fuck or not, but you know that when you’re with him, you’re happy. If anything, tonight shows you that he has to at least give a bit of a fuck about you. Yes, it’s always been sex, but with how much he’s trying to keep you to himself now...can he really be all that bad?

Letting out a frustrated groan, you settle under the covers and turn on the TV, deciding that ‘Empire Records’ is good enough background noise to drift off to.

As you slowly succumb to the darkness of unconsciousness, your mind can’t stop focusing on one person and all of the things he makes you feel.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

**

“No,” you groan as your phone goes off for what you’re assuming to be the hundredth time.

You heard it in your sleep, but had absolutely no desire to answer it.

You mindlessly grab your phone, eyes still closed, and answer, “hmm?”

“Since when do you sleep like the dead?” Ransom questions.

Your eyes shoot open.

“It was a long night. What’s up?”

“I’m here.”

“What? Why? It’s still early-”

“It’s 1:30, babe. Are you okay?”

“I’m just...just tired,” you yawn as you sit up, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

There’s no sense in trying to get yourself together, since he’s already seen you when you first wake up and as you are now. You toe on your slippers and make your way downstairs as quick as you can, stopping in the kitchen first to take your pills before making your way to the front door.

“You okay?”

“You can’t park there, Ransom,” you mumble, seeing his car parked on the cobblestone driveway. “He comes by sometimes and the last thing I need is for you two to have it out again. I’ll open the garage for you.”

“Sweetheart-”

“We’ll talk once you’re inside.”

You close the door and make your way to the basement, hitting the switch that slide the doors up and wait for him to pull in.

You can still tell him no. You’ve already kicked your husband out and he actually lives there, you can definitely change your mind and tell Ransom to go home. There’s no reason for him to stay, because there’s no way for Jack to get in unless he breaks in, but there’s a security system set in place (at Jack’s demand) so there’s nothing to worry about. You can easily tell Ransom never mind and to go home.

But you don’t want to.

You can chalk it up to you being lonely and vulnerable, but you know that Daisy made a good point. You’re not in some loving wonderful marriage and you deserve to at least see if there’s anything real between you and Ransom before you dive back into hell by trying to get another divorce.

“What’s going on with you?” Ransom asks, pulling you out of your thoughts as he gets out of his car, duffle bag in hand.

“It’s just been a rough couple of weeks. I’m mentally exhausted, my body hurts...I’m dealing with everything. Trying to figure everything out.”

“You don’t ever sleep this late.”

“Like I said, it’s been a rough couple of weeks,” you mutter, stepping aside to let him in.

He sighs as he makes his way in and follows your lead,“do you really not want me here?”

“I told you last night: I don’t know what I want.”

“I miss you, Y/N.”

“That’s why you fucked Daisy?”

“That and I was fucking mad at you.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“At least I didn’t beat the shit out of you.” “I’m sorry, do you want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters as he drops his duffle bag. “I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too, Ransom.”

“Not just fucking you, Y/N. I missed you. Seeing what he did to you...why you were so desperate for me to keep him at my house...I know you asked me not to but, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it.”

“I’m not yours to worry about, Ransom.”

“Yes you are.”

“Don’t. Don’t act like we’ve always been meant to be and I’m missing the point. You never said anything and now I’m supposed to just trust you?”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to?”

“YOU FUCKED DAISY!”

“Besides that!”

“Of course you’d say,” you laugh humorlessly, “I don’t even know you, Ransom.”

“Yet, you still want me here.”

“Cause I miss you, Ransom. I don’t know why, but I do.”

“Because I make you happy and I make you feel good.”

“That’s not enough for a relationship. It doesn’t help that I trust you less now than I did before.”

“We can work on that,” he promises softly as closes the small distance between the two of you. “If you want me to go-”

“I want...I want you to stay. I don’t want to be alone and I miss you.”

“He’s not gonna hurt you again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t wanna think about it right now. It’s always on my mind and-”

“Tell me what you wanna do.”

“I just wanna feel okay. For once, I want to be okay.”

“Let me help with that,” he mumbles before cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

It’s funny how quickly you forgot how soul stealing his kisses are.

“Ransom,” you breathe once you two break apart, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My body still hurts.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he growls and you laugh softly.

“Let me show you around.”

He picks up his bag before following you up the steps, and without even facing him, you can tell that he’s staring directly at your ass.

Men.

Initially, you told yourself that Ransom would sleep in one of the guest rooms, but now that he’s here (and has kissed the hell out of you), you make the dangerous decision to let him sleep in the same bed as you. The moment you open the bedroom door, he throws his bag down and gently pushes you against the wall.

Yeah, the guest room isn’t gonna work for you.

“Ransom, I just told you that I can’t,” you moan, barely making an attempt to push him off of you as he kisses down your body.

“We don’t have to do that, but there are other things we can do. Other things things that’ll make you feel better,” he husks, getting on his knees and lifting up the shirt you’re wearing. “When’s the last time you had an orgasm, sweetheart?”

“The last time I saw you,” you whimper, gripping his hair. “Ransom...oh fuck!” you mewl as he licks your clit. “You don’t have to-” “I want to. God, you don’t know how fucking bad I’ve missed this pretty little cunt, baby,” he growls before diving in.

As you lean against the wall while Ransom eats you out (like he hasn’t touched a woman in years), you think about what any of this means. What you want it to mean. Ransom has started to mean more to you than you ever thought he would, but what the fuck are you supposed to do with that? What the fuck are you supposed to do with him?

One thing is certain: Hugh Ransom Drysdale is now a major part of your life.

**

“Where you going?” Jack asks again as you pack your bags.

“On a business trip,” you lie with a frustrated scowl.

In the time its taken for you to convince yourself that a trip with Ransom is the right choice, a lot has happened. In all honesty, you know that you shouldn’t go with him, but you’re addicted him at this point. Since he stayed over for those few days, Ransom really has tried his best to show you that he means every thing he says and will go to every length to show you that.

“What do you even do again?”

“Jack, we’ve been together for over four years, you should know this already.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“Marketing design, I’m in control of marketing design.”

“Since when do you start taking trips?”

“There was an offer and I-”

“We’re trying to work on-”

“No, you’re trying to work on this marriage, I’m just existing at this point. I told you I want a divorce and you refuse to just sign the papers.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Sending your Mommy to talk me because I wouldn’t talk to you? Real fucking great-”

“I didn’t send her-”

“You didn’t fucking tell her to stay out of it either!”

In the middle of day two of Ransom staying with you, Jack’s mom showed up to plead her son’s case.

“Just be quiet and stay here,” you giggled, trying to get out of Ransom’s hold.

“Ignore her.”

“She’s my mother-in-law. I can’t just ignore her.”

“It’s your house, you can do whatever you want.”

“Ransom-” “You have work to do anyway.”

“You’re a selfish man.”

“Yes, I truly am, so just stay here with me,” he begged as he kissed your shoulder.

“Ransom.”

“It’s annoying. Being with someone who doesn’t do exactly what you say is pretty fucking annoying.”

“Go cry to Jack about it.”

“Can you fuck yet?”

“Ransom!”

“Fine, go and spend time with the wicked bitch. I’ll stay here,” he scowled.

“Give me a kiss.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you like me so much,” you smirked and he scoffed.

“Spoiled little shit,” he smiled before cupping your face and kissing you deeply. “Hurry back,” he husked after you two broke apart.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

You were reluctant to get up, but nonetheless got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and made your way. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself before opening the door.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jack’s Mother sighed the second you opened the door.

“Why don’t you come inside?” you offered, stepping aside and letting her in before softly closing the door behind her.

You knew it was going to be a shit show, but God did you underestimate how much. You poured the both of you a drink before you joined her at the kitchen table; you sitting across from her. You set the bottle of whiskey in the middle and just smiled at her.

You’re both quiet for at least five minutes before she said, “he’s so incredibly sorry.”

“Tell that to my broken rib.”

“He was out of control. He said he’s gonna get help-”

“Margret, I know you’re his mother, but you know it’s bullshit.”

“He wants to change-”

“And how many times did David tell you the same thing?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch, but you can see me, can’t you? You see what I look like? You know that I’ve barely left the house in the house in two weeks? I’ve been working from home-”

“Quitting would help solve-”

“Why should I give up my career? I went to college and worked my ass off for a reason. I should quit because your son is sensitive? I quit and then what? I wait around for him to come back home from cheating on me?”

“He said that he’s never-”

“You don’t believe that. I know you don’t believe it.”

“Level with me here, Y/N,” she sighed. “You know how these things go-”

“I’m not a fucking business transaction, Margret. The person he sold me on and the person he is now are two different fucking people. I don’t love him anymore-”

“It won’t always be-”

“He beat me up, Margret! I don’t want to wait for him to be the person he promised me he’d be on our wedding day!”

“You think you’re special? You think every woman in this county wasn’t promised the perfect life? You don’t think we’ve all had our fair share of bruises? Your Mother? This is what comes with the life-”

“No, it comes with your life because you allow it. I don’t want this for myself!”

“Why can’t you just let it go? He’s sorry! Clearly, Ransom is taking care of you-”

“What does that mean?”

“Jack told me that he got into a fight with Ransom before he kicked him out. I can’t help but think-”

“Well try to,” you snapped before you grabbed your glass and finished off your drink. “Ransom and Jack have their own relationship. I haven’t spoken to Jack since that night, so I don’t know what the hell happened.”

“Everyone knows that boy has a thing for you, don’t act like-”

“Hes never said two words to me. Even at the wedding, where he was Jack’s best man, he didn’t say a thing to me. So, whatever the hell is going on between them has nothing to do with me.”

“I’m not going to tell him, honey. Everyone has their fun on the side-”

“Do you not hear how fucked up all of this sounds? I don’t want any part of this!”

“It’s all apart of the game, honey. They commit their sins and we’re here for their repentance.”

“Maybe for you, but it’s not what I want for me.”

“Y/N-”

“I want a fucking divorce, Margret. He can have whatever he wants, I don’t care, I just want out. The cheating was one thing, but if he’s hellbent on turning out like his father, I want no part in any of this anymore. I don’t want to keep up the act.”

“You need to understand how easy you have it.”

“You need to understand that I don’t want to be married to your son anymore.”

“So, you’re willing to throw it all away?”

“There’s nothing to throw away in the first damn place.”

“I’ll reach out to you soon,” she huffed before finishing her drink and getting up. “I know you two can work this out.”

With that, she walked out (slamming the door shut), and you were left to your own devices. As you poured yourself another drink, you heard her rev her engine before she peeled out of your driveway.

You threw her glass into the recycle bin before grabbing another for Ransom, filling it then your own, before you closed the bottle and made your way back upstairs.

“That didn’t sound pleasant at all,” he scoffed once you were back in the bedroom, putting down your glass and the bottle on your nightstand.

“How bad do you wanna fuck me?” you asked, handing him his drink before you got on the bed and straddled him.

“Real fucking bad, but I don’t want to-”

“I don’t give a fuck that it hurts, Ransom. I want you to fuck me like you want to. Fuck me like I’m your little play toy.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Do you want me?”

“Just because I want you doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.”

“I want it, Ransom. I want you,” you moaned as you grind yourself against him.

“What happened, sweetheart?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I just want you.”

“Then have me.”

While doing his best to be gentle that afternoon, he took his time pulling you apart over and over again. Yes, it was painful, but the pleasure was so strong that you didn’t give a fuck. He was so gentle with you after and it only made your heart desire him that much more. He really had no reason to try and lie, but he truly wanted to show you that he was all in.

He wanted you to understand just how much he cared.

The next morning, he made you breakfast in bed, which resulted in more sex.

Then your parents came over.

“You don’t have to answer them, babe. It’s your house,” Ransom sighed as you got dressed.

“You think they’ll just go away? If I don’t answer, they’ll just call. They’ll call until I answer and then, they’ll demand that I let them in.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do what everyone-”

“Don’t Ransom. Just don’t. You and I aren’t the same and you wouldn’t understand.”

“Do you want to talk to them?”

“It’s pretty obvious that I don’t.”

“Then don’t fucking do it. You’re far too kind to people that don’t deserve it.”

“Well, if I lived by that motto, you wouldn’t be in my bed, would you?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I have to talk to them,” you chuckled before grabbing one of his cigarettes and his lighter, “I’ll try to not keep you waiting too long.”

“You better not. Give me a kiss.”

“Spoiled little shit,” you giggled before you dipped down to kiss him.

You pulled on one of the many sweaters he sent you home in before you made your way downstairs and getting ready for one of the dumbest talks you’d ever have.

“You can’t keep this up, Y/N,” your Mother sighed once you opened the door; your Father just staring at his feet.

“Keep what up?” you asked, placing the cigarette between your lips and lighting it.

“When did you start smoking?”

“A year ago. Come inside, we’ll go to the back deck.”

“It’s not good for you,” your Mother snapped as she gently pushed her way past you, your Father following her but still not looking at you.

“Not many things are these days,” you shrugged as you led them to the backyard, “why are you here?”

“We spoke to Margret-”

“Oh did you now?”

“Y/N, we know that Daisy’s been staying here. Keep it up and people are going to think that you’ve started some sort of relationship with her.”

“I should be so lucky. She’s gorgeous.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Who says I was joking? Did you hear me laugh?”

“You want the people in this county to think-”

“Honestly, who give a fuck? Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?”

“I don’t care for your choice of language!” your Mother snapped.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care for,” you snapped as you all sat down in the extravagant sitting area that adorned the backyard patio. “You’re at my house about to ask me for the worst thing a parent-”

“Y/N, please. I know...They’re things that are expected-” your father started.

“You’re gonna ask me to take him back, but you still can’t look at me?” you interrupted him before you settled back into your chair and took a drag from your cigarette.

“Sweet Pea-”

“If you’re gonna speak to me, fucking look at me,” you snapped at your Father. “What? Am I that ugly, or do I remind you too much of how Mom looked after you would discipline her?”

“Y/N!” your Mother snapped.

“I know what we’re asking for...what we’ve been asking for isn’t fair,” your Father sighed be he lit his own cigarette, “but you’ve already married the boy. We’re not asking you to faithful, you and Ransom-”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP BRINGING UP RANSOM?!”

“You haven’t seen Jack, but we have and Ransom didn’t give an explanation as to why he fought him-”

“So, it’s automatically got to be because of me? I’ve just gotta be fucking him for him to be mad at Jack?”

“Don’t make me out to be a fool, Y/N. I know we’ve made your life miserable, but-”

“Exactly. You’ve already asked too fucking much of me and I’m tired. I am so damn tired.”

“Just take the boy back-”

“I don’t want to! I just want a divorce and to be left the hell alone!”

“You won’t get any peace for at least two years, Y/N,” your Mother sighed, leaning back into her chair. “The family name-”

“The family name, the family name, THE FAMILY FUCKING NAME!” you screamed and she rolled her eyes.

“No one knows what happened, no one knows that you kicked him out, and no one know that he...”

“That he fucking beat me? He fucking beat me, Mom. He pinned me down and beat the shit out of me. That’s what fucking happened. That’s what you’re asking me to go back to.”

“Y/N, the family name doesn’t need to wrapped in another scandal,” she sobbed.

“I just want a fucking divorce!”

“It will be everywhere! Your Father is about to retire and he’s had an amazing career! Your divorce from Jack-”

“Do you hear how selfish you sound?!”

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t about just you. You may have Jack’s last name, but you carry the family name-”

“How much longer do I have to put up with this?”

“Y/N, just take the money and have fun,” your Father sighed. “Linda Drysdale is still married to Richard, isn’t she? He cheated, she gave him a black eye, and they’re fine now!”

“So, that’s supposed to be my life now?”

“It could be a lot worse,” your Mother sniffed as you ashed your cigarette.

“Do you two even love each other?”

“Love is a complicated thing, sweetheart,” she muttered, looking away from you and turning her attention to your garden. “Your roses look like they’ll come in nice this year.”

“They’ll be the only thing,” you practically whispered as you looked up to your bedroom window, knowing the window is open and Ransom heard everything.

Fuck.

“So, you’re just gonna take him back? Because your parents asked nicely?” Ransom asked as soon as you got back into the bedroom.

“Please don’t-”

“Baby-”

“It’s what’s expected of me, Ransom. What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever the fuck makes you happy!”

“I’m not you! I can’t just-”

“You can do whatever the fuck makes you happy! You can do whatever the fuck you want!”

“Why does it matter so much to you?!”

“BECAUSE WE SHOULD BE TOGETHER!”

“THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE SAID SOMETHING AT THE WEDDING YOU WERE ALL TOO HAPPY TO BE APART OF!” you yelled, instantly regretting it once you feel the pain in your ribs. “Goddammit!”

“Are you okay?” he questioned, making his way to your side almost instantly.

“Jesus, why do you have to go and prove them all wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why are you so fucking sweet and kind to me?”

“I already told you,” he smirked as he helped you over to the bed, “I like you a lot more than I should.”

It’s not lost on you that Ransom is someone you shouldn’t trust, but he just makes you so damn happy, to the point that he makes you feel like this is something you should try. Do you love the man? No the fuck you don’t. Do you like him more than you should?

Obviously.

Jack lets out a frustrated sigh as he runs his hand through his hair, “I can go with you.”

“That would imply that I want you to come at all.”

“I want to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Jack. I don’t want you or this marriage anymore, and you won’t give me what I want-”

“If my parents can make it work, so can we!”

“Does no one fucking listen to me when I talk? I DON’T WANT TO BE MARRIED TO YOU ANYMORE! I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE!”

“In time-”

“I’ve gotta go or I’ll miss my flight,” you interrupt, grabbing your suitcase and starting out of the room.

“Y/N, is there someone else?”

“What would it matter if there was?”

“We can’t work this out if you’re with-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” you laugh, “I’ll see you in a week. Try not to burn down the fucking house during one of your drug fueled binges, and whatever girls you bring back, make sure they take all their clothes with them when they leave.”

“You weren’t always this fucking cruel.”

“And you weren’t always a pile of shit. Well, maybe you were, I was just to naive to see it.”

“Y/N-” “Bye.”

You practically speed to the airport, and you know there’s no need to, but you just need to get the fuck out of Massachusetts for a while. That, and you’re anxious to see Ransom. You don’t like the way you two left things and you want to smooth things over.

You also want to figure out what the hell you’re doing.

“I already heard it from Daisy, I don’t need to hear it from you too,” you sighed as Ransom made his way back into the bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna go back to him?”

“Ransom, please!”

“You have a fucking choice!”

“You? Leave him and be with you?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing!”

“I don’t fucking know you well enough-”

“Whose fucking fault is that?! We’ve been in the same house for four days! I keep telling you that I’m an open book to you and you refuse-”

“I’m married, Ransom!”

“You’re marriage is pretty fucking shit, and you keep hiding behind that for what? To make Mommy and Daddy happy?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“Stop doing what they want you to!”

“Be like you and don’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings?”

“I give a fuck about yours for whatever reason!”

“No one ever fucking told you to!”

“So this is done?”

“What even is this?!”

“You tell me!”

“Ransom, I swear to God!”

“You don’t even want to be with him, Y/N! You don’t want him like you want me, you don’t crave him like you crave me, and you damn sure don’t care for him like you care for me.”

“Stop it!”

“What? You’re gonna play house with him and keep fucking me on the side? Gonna keep wanting me, but not actually committing to me?!”

“You don’t even want to commit to anyone! Look at that fucking ring on your pinky!”

“Fuck this ring!” he yelled, taking it off and throwing it across the room. “I want to commit to you!”

“Stop it, Ransom. Just fucking stop it! I’m not some fucking toy-” “Then stop fucking playing around!” he shouted.

“You need to go,” you sniffled as you dried your eyes. “I have to call Jack and tell him-”

“That you’ll continue to fucking pretend. Yeah, fucking got it.”

“Ransom-” “Fuck you. Fuck all of this. I’m done,” he spat before storming out.

The first real fight you two ever had, and it was all because you couldn’t find the courage to stand up for yourself. Yes, he was right, but what the fuck are you supposed to do? Since you were born, your family has drilled it into your head that it’s up to you to make the family look good. You’re the only child your parents had, so you have to be perfect. Always be polite, stay on top of your grades, get into the best schools, be the best at sports, be the best debater....you have to be perfect. With Jack, you genuinely thought you got lucky because he acted like he actually wanted to be with you. He made you believe that your marriage would be what you’d always wanted.

With Ransom...it’s been complicated since he kissed you. Hes never shied away from the fact that he’s an asshole. Maybe that’s why you should trust him. No, none of this is ideal, but at least hes always been up front with you (as far as you know). Yeah, he fucked Daisy, but he didn’t lie about it and he told you that he knew he was wrong. He beat up your husband because he beat you up, and then was so fucking gentle with you; both physically and emotionally. Ransom has his faults, but it’s not lost on you that his feelings for you are genuine.

Which is probably why he text you a week after your argument.

Part Time Lover: March 12th to the 20th , we’ll be in Chicago. I booked us a suite at the Eurostars Magnificent Mile. I’ll see you there.

Y/N: How much do I owe you?

Part Time Lover: It’s on me.

Y/N: You don’t have to pay for this whole thing.

Part Time Lover: It was my idea for us to go away together, I should be the one to pay for it.

Y/N: I hurt you, it’s the least I can do.

Part Time Lover: I’m tougher than you think.

Y/N: I’m sorry, Ransom.

Part Time Lover: I’ll see you in Chicago.

And you haven’t spoken to him since. What are you even supposed to say?

‘Sorry for not being strong enough to leave my husband and jump into bed with you more often’?

You have no reason to commit to Ransom, but you want one so fucking bad. Being with Ransom makes you feel like you can finally breathe, and being without him feels like hell. You don’t exactly know when Ransom started meaning so much to you, but now he seems to be all that you think about.

As you board the plane, you try to empty your mind. You try and empty your mind. You have no expectations, you just want to have fun and be someone else for a while.

You just want to be with Ransom.

**

“Ransom, what did you do?” you ask on the phone as you make your way to elevator.

“I want us to have a good time, so I made sure we would.”

“Ransom-”

“Are you here?”

“I’m in the elevator now.”

“Good, get your ass up here.”

“Ransom-”

“Top floor, the nicest suite, get up here. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you sigh with a small smile as you watch the numbers on the elevator go up and up. “You didn’t have to do all of-”

“Yes I did. I wanted to. You deserve the best and I’m gonna give it to you.”

“I don’t deserve all of this, Ransom,” you mutter as the elevator reaches the top floor.

“You deserve all of this and more.”

“I’m on our floor. I’ll see you-”

“I see you. Get your ass over here now,” he demands, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

You hang up before practically running to the room where you see his head poking out.

“Lets not argue ever again,” he laughs once you reach the suite.

“I like that a lot.”

“I missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, Ransom....I’m sorry that all of this is such a shit show.”

“How was your flight?” he asks, stepping aside to let you in.

“Ransom, we should really talk about...holy shit,” you gasp as you take a look around. “What did you...”

“I don’t want to think about everything that went wrong. I missed you and you missed me so, lets just enjoy this.”

“Babe...you didn’t have to...this is so much.”

“Do you like it?” he asks softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I love it.”

“Good,” he comments before kissing the shell of your ear. “Room service is on call 24/7, the river is right there,” he points to the window in the living area, “so we can watch them dye the river from here or we can go down there, I’ve found a million things for us to do-”

“Ransom, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Yes I did. You deserve everything and I want you to have it.”

“Ransom-”

“I’ll make us drinks, you look around,” he urges before letting go of you and making his way into the kitchen.

It’s like an apartment for the two of you. There’s a living area, a work space, the bathroom is gorgeous, the kitchen is unbelievable, and the bedroom is amazing. You park your suitcase by the doorway of the bedroom and make your way out onto the balcony and look over the city.

The fact that Ransom did all of this for you really has your mind blown.

“Do you like it?” Ransom asks as he comes outside, handing your drink and standing behind you.

“Ransom, this is amazing...I can’t believe you did all of this...”

“I did it for us.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna admit that there’s something between us, but I fucking know better, Y/N. You’re here, without much convincing, you’re happy, and you clearly don’t feel guilty about being here.”

“I just...”

“For now, just don’t think. Be here with me and be happy. I can make you so fucking happy if you’ll let me.” “You already make me happy, daddy,” you tell him seductively as turn around and face him.

“Yeah? I make my pretty girl happy?”

“Do you want me to show you just how happy you made me?” you ask, getting on your knees and undoing his pants.

“You don’t care that anyone can see you?”

“Do you care?”

“You know I’ll fuck you anywhere without hesitation.”

“Then you should let me show everyone just how happy you make me, daddy,” you moan, stroking him just a bit, “let me show you,” you beg before taking him into your mouth.

“Jesus sweetheart!” he grunts as he grips your hair. “Just can’t be a good girl anywhere I take you, huh? Fuck, suck it just like that, baby!” he moans, guiding you just a bit. “Bet you missed daddy’s cock so much, huh? Shit! Missed being so full?”

You moan in response as you pick up your pace, trying to hold off your own release.

“Shit, get up, baby! Let daddy make you feel good!” he grunts, gripping your hair tight as a way of getting you to stop.

“Wanna taste you!” you whimper, getting up only for Ransom to force you against the guard rail and push your dress up.

“We have more than enough time for that, sweetheart. Right now, daddy just wants to feel you,”  he demands as you groan, before he thrusts himself inside of you.

“FUCK!”

“Missed this tight little honeypot,” he broods as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Oh my GOD! Please!”

“Feel good, baby? Missed daddy’s cock?”

“Oh my...yes, YES! Got off...Fuck Ransom!”

“Ya know, I think all of Chicago should see these tits too, don’t you?”

“Do whatever...oh fuck! I’m so close!” you moan as he rips the front on your dress. “Daddy!”

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Daddy...I need to...please!”

“Fucking say it!”

“I...I want...I want you all the time, Ransom! Jesus, I’m gonna fucking...please!”

“That desperate to cum, sweetheart?”

“I’ll do anything, just please let me cum!”

“My sweet little whore, make a a mess, baby!” he chuckles, playing with clit as he bites down on your shoulder.

“FUCK!” you scream, squirting hard and making a mess as he rides out your high.

“And to think, we’re just getting started,” he laughs, never missing a beat as he fucks into you like you just didn’t have a mind shattering orgasm.

Ransom keeps you on that balcony for at least an hour, before finally pulling you back into the bedroom; deciding that it would be kind to demolish you in private.

“Daddy, PLEASE!”

“Can’t take anymore, sweetheart?”

“Need to feel you! Mi...missed you so much!”

“Fuck! Give it to me! Give all of it”

“FUCK!” you scream out, squirting hard as you do your best to stay up right.

“Shit, sweetheart!” Ransom growls as he fills you to the brim, moaning as he pulls out and watches both of your releases spill out. “You’re amazing, baby.”

“You didn’t have to...you didn’t have to show me....,” you breathe, trying to form an actual thought as you collapse onto the bed.

No one will ever be able to make you as happy and full as he does.

“Are you happy?” he chuckles as he gets in next to you and pulls the cover over the both of you.

“Mhm” you mumble, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. “We should go eat.”

“Rest for now, we’ll eat after.”

“You must be hungry,” you yawn, trying your best to stay awake.

“When you get up. Sleep.”

“Thank you, Ransom. For all of this.”

“I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he promises softly before pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “Anything.”

Ransom’s P.O.V

“Your mommy pick out your shoes for you, Drysdale?” Tommy asked as he approached me on the playground.

“Leave me alone.”

“Gonna cry again? Gonna have your grandpa talk to my parents?”

“Leave me alone!”

“Cause you’re parents don’t-”

“He said to leave him alone, Tommy!” you shouted, hands on your hips and a scowl on your face.

Is it sad that I can still remember what you wore that day?

Your hair was in pigtails, you had on your blue dress with white polka dots, you had on black church shoes, and a white stockings.

I’d had a crush on you since the first time I saw, but I thought you looked especially cute that day.

“Stay outta this, Y/N!”

“Leave him alone, Tommy! You’re a big mean jerk, and Ransom hasn’t done anything to you!”

“You like him so much, why don’t you marry him?”

“Leave him alone or I’ll tell Miss Hendricks on you!”

“Tattletale! Whatever, both of you are stupid anyway!”

And with that, Tommy Smotts stormed off.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, coming over to me in the sandbox.

I did the only thing I could think of: run off.

In my defense, you’re the one who came out of nowhere and actually spoke to me. Sure, we stared at each other a bunch, but neither of us actually ever said a fucking word to each other.

Why did I wait so fucking long to act on anything with you? No, I don’t chase anyone, ever, but you...you’ve always been the one I’ve wanted. Since that day you defended me, I’ve never been able to get you out of my head. I guess I always thought I had time, because you never seemed to talk to anyone besides Daisy. I always caught you looking at me, I could always feel you staring at me, so I just assumed I had time. I wanted to have my fun before approaching you, because I wanted to get it right. I don’t know what fucking hold you had over me (and still do), but I’ve only ever wanted to do right by you.

Then he took you.

“You get every woman you want, leave some for the rest of us,” Jack scoffed as we stood in my parent’s backyard, attending their party out of nothing other than obligation.

“Not every woman,” I slurred, looking over in your direction.

Maybe it was my fault. I still hadn’t said a fucking word to you, and Jack had no clue that I felt anything towards you, because I never talked about it, but God. You looked so fucking good that night. You always wore the most modest clothes, but you made them look so damn good. You always make everything look so damn good.

“Y/N?,” Jack scoffed incredulously before he took another sip of his drink. “What the fuck is so special about her? Yeah, she’s cute, but she doesn’t actually say anything, she dresses like a fucking nun-”

“Exactly; she’s different,” I snapped defensively.

You were mine, mentally, and I wasn’t about to let him talk shit about you.

“Oh Drysdale, you’ve got it bad.”

“Got what?”

“You’re in love with her!”

“I don’t even know her,” I muttered, lighting my cigarette.

A bold fucking lie.

“Then why so pushy?”

“I’m not being pushy about anything, I just don’t see the need to talk shit when she’s the only good one out of the bunch.”

“I can get her,” he chuckled as he looked you over.

“Yeah, okay.”

“What?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Jack. She’s never gonna fall for you.”

“I can be quite charming when I need to be.”

“Yeah sure.”

“Ransom, I bet you $10,000 that I can get her to say yes to a date with me.”

“You’re on,” I smirked, shaking his hand before taking another drag from my cigarette.

I never thought you’d actually fall for his shit, because you’re so much smarter than that. However, I’ve gotta give it to Jack, he’s a suave piece of shit when he wants to be.

It was only supposed to be one date though.

I could take losing the fucking money, but actually losing you?

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I snapped, pulling Jack into your parents’ kitchen.

“What are you talking about?!”

“It was supposed to be one fucking date! It’s been two fucking months!”

“What can I say? I like the girl,” he shrugged with a smug smirk.

“Jack, I swear to God-”

“You said you don’t love her, so what’s the big deal?”

“Fuck you,” I spat before storming out.

Before I knew it, you were fucking married to him. It only took that little fuck three months to fucking cheat on you, but he played the part of a loving husband well enough, until he couldn’t anymore.

You start to stir and I realize my phone is going off.

“Sleep,” I urge softly, kissing the top of your head before gently getting out of bed.

Throwing on my boxer briefs and a sweater, I grab my phone and my pack of cigarettes before stepping out onto the balcony.

“What?”

“Don’t fucking ‘what’ me!” Jack snaps and I laugh.

“Sound a little unhinged there, buddy.”

“Fuck you, Ransom! Is she with you?!”

“She who?” I chuckle, lighting a smoke.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Ransom!”

“Are you referring to your darling little wife?”

“You know damn well that I am!”

“Now, why would I know of her whereabouts?” I question, looking at you through the sliding glass door.

You have got to be the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

“This wasn’t part of our-”

“One, I don’t know where your wife is. Two, I’m not breaking anything that we agreed upon.”

“She’s mine, Ransom.”

“Maybe you don’t have the tight little hold on her that you thought you did.”

“We had an agreement!”

“No, we made a bet. Don’t get mad at me because you’re losing it. Maybe, if you didn’t fucking slap her around, you wouldn’t be so fucking worried!”

“That was one time and I feel awful-”

“Finding out that you turned into your parents does fucking suck, doesn’t it?”

“I’m nothing like my father!”

“Lets see: you cheat on your wife, you live off your wife, and you beat your wife. Sounds an awful lot like you turned out like your father.”

“Watch it, Drysdale,” he growls.

“Are you warning me?” I laugh. “I got away with one murder, so I’m not too fucking worried about you.”

“Back off!”

“Ahh, what’s the fun in that? The deadline is her birthday, isn’t it?”

“Ransom-”

“Fuck off, Jack. You wanna keep your wife? Fucking work for her then,” I bite before hanging up.

Yes, another bet was made in a vain attempt to get your love, but if I can make money and have you, why wouldn’t I? I’m going to tell you. I’m going to tell you everything, I just need to find the right time. After you get to know me a little more, which is tricky in its own way, I’ll explain everything.

I know no one would ever believe me, but I’d never fucking hurt you. I’ve never loved anyone, but I’m so fucking in love with you. I always have been. Hopefully, after this trip, you’re able to see that. I know I’ve fucked up and fucked around my whole life, but I just wanna get things right with you.

I just need you to give me a chance.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Tell me something true,” you smile at Ransom as your second round of drinks arrive.

You ended up sleeping much longer than you intended to, and by the time you finally did wake up, it was time for dinner. Ransom was sweet, still making jokes at your expense, but told you that he had planned everything out. Which is why you’re now sitting at a five star restaurant, drinking more than you should and feeling happier than you ever have.

“You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,” Ransom smirks and you burst out laughing.

“I’m serious! Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s a lot,” he laughs with a shrug, “something you don’t know...I hate spiders and I hate centipedes.”

“Ransom Drysdale hates bugs?!”

“Don’t get so excited, I’ll stomp those fuckers out in a second,” he mutters and laugh again. “I know what you really wanna ask me though, so you may as well ask it.”

“Ransom-”

“I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

“Did you have something to do with Harlan’s death?”

“Technically? No. Fran? Yes. With Harlan, that just worked out in my favor. I could already tell that he was getting fed up with everyone, so I pretended to take an interest in Marta. He seemed to want her company and attention more than anyone else’s, so it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. I wine and dined her, took her on a few trips, fucked her...I made her think I was in love. So, when Harlan and I had our little sit down and he told me he was leaving all of his money to her, I convinced her to split it with me. I told her everything he told me and was able to convince her that I had plans for a future together. Now, the medicine thing, that was just a stroke of pure luck. I don’t know who the hell switched the vials around, but Harlan ended up killing himself anyway. Marta got her money, as did I, and we both stayed out of jail. Fran? Well, she’d always been a nosey little cunt and she was pissing me off. Telling Marta to watch out for me and stay away...she had no reason to worry about what the fuck I was doing. So, I poisoned her,” he shrugs. “It’s not like it was all that hard. It’s amazing how easy it is to slip someone something when they think they’re safe in a room full of fucking vultures.”

“Ransom, that’s fucking awful.”

“You didn’t come on this trip thinking I was some boy scout,” he scoffs, taking a sip of his drink. “You’ve always heard about what a piece of shit I am.”

“I don’t believe everything I hear.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not fair. Everyone has their own story, everyone goes through shit, and everyone has their reason for doing what they do.”

“Have you always been this innocent?”

“You mean this fucking stupid? Yes,” you chuckle before sipping on your drink.

“You’re not stupid.”

“Yeah, you can say that. I’m here with you-”

“I mean it, Y/N. All of us are jaded because we have shitty parents. All of us except you. You’re kinder than any of us really deserve, you’re thoughtful, you’re sympathetic, you’re caring...the list goes on. Being a good person doesn’t make you stupid, it just makes you too good for the people you surround yourself with.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“I’m jaded, remember?” he smirks and you chuckle. “So, why did you decide to keep things going with me?”

“Besides the sex?” you question with a cocked eyebrow and he laughs. “I don’t know, you just make me happy. Genuinely happy. You’re sweet, kind, gentle, caring...all the things you don’t want people to know about you, you are with me in private.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything in school?”

“I saw the girls you dated,” you chuckle, “I didn’t stand a chance.”

“You were the only one I wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t stand a chance,” he smiles at you. “What are you doing for your birthday?”

“Whatever Daisy has planned,” you laugh.

“What about Jack?”

“Jack hasn’t planned anything for my birthday since the day I said, ‘I do’. Daisy takes over every year, because she knows he isn’t going to do a single fucking thing.”

“Why do you stay with him?”

“It’s what...it makes my mom’s life easier, so I do it.”

“But you’re unhappy?”

“So what? What does that mean to me? She raised me. My dad was MIA and she put up with a ton-”

“She’s your parent. It’s her fucking job to be your parent-”

“She didn’t have to stay, Ransom,” you sigh. “She stayed for me. It’s not like she wouldn’t have gotten any money if she would have left him, and she would’ve gotten a good chunk of it too. She stayed for me. All of the hell that she endured, all of the gossip, the abuse...she didn’t want to leave me alone and she was a firm believer that a child needs two parents, because that’s what her parents instilled in her. My father was never terrible to me, he was just awful to her. She didn’t see the point in leaving if he was good to me. Which is why I’m so damn nice now, but also why I vowed to never end up in a marriage like hers. What a fucking joke that turned out to be,” you mumble, downing the rest of your drink.

“She’d want you to be happy then.”

“You heard her that day, Ransom. By not having a failed marriage, I am making her happy.”

“Your marriage has failed.”

“Ransom-”

“You deserve to be happy, Y/N. You do so much for everyone else all the time, you deserve to live a good life.”

“How do I know that you’re not trying to fuck me over like you did Marta?”

“I don’t need your money.”

“You didn’t need hers.”

“What was hers was originally mine.”

“How am I supposed to believe you? It’s not like you’ve ever shown any desire to do something with your life.”

“That was then, this is now.”

“What’s so different now?”

“I have you.”

“Ransom-”

“Listen, if you tell me to, I’ll buy you a ticket right now and you can go home.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t want that.”

“Why stay?”

“You don’t bullshit me. You’re not hiding the worst parts of yourself to make me believe some version of you that doesn’t actually exist. You could be just like Jack, but you choose not to be. That and you just make me really fucking happy,” you smile at him.

“Lets get out out of here.”

“We haven’t eaten!” you laugh.

“Who cares? W e can eat wherever, lets just get the fuck out of here.”

“Are you drunk?”

“That I am,” he laughs and you laugh along with him, “but I just want to be out with you. Until you get a divorce, we can’t be out like this, and I like being this open with you. I like having you to myself. Lets just explore the fucking city.”

“You really are something else,” you smile at him.

“Let me show you just how much,” he smirks.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s because he’s so damn charismatic, but you find yourself following his lead.

It’s cold, but Ransom holds you close as you two walk around and take in the sights. You both take turns asking each other questions, engaging in conversations about politics and basic human rights (Ransom’s opinion falling on that he doesn’t care as long as it works out for him), eating at random stands (hot dog, pretzel, and a burger one), and somehow ending up at a Jazz club. The entire time, Ransom keeps surprising you with just how thoughtful and sweet he is, and it has you re-thinking everything. Maybe he is worth all the risk. He wants to be committed to you and he’s excited about it.

Just maybe you got it right this time.

“It’s late and we need sleep,” you giggle as Ransom carries you on his back.

“Do we really?”

“Ransom.”

“Alright, we’ll head back, but I have a full week planned for us.”

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, what the hell did you do?”

“Just you wait and see.”

**

The week you spend with Ransom is the best week you’ve ever had. After talking him into actually going down to the river to watch them dye it, he took you out for lunch, and he was shamelessly sweet to you. He kissed you whenever he got a chance, held your hand, paid for everything (even though you told him multiple times that you can pay for yourself), he pulled you into the bathroom and fucked you senseless at every bar you two went to, and he made sure to make it known that you’re his and his alone.

The whole week felt like a dream. Every day was a new adventure and Ransom made sure to never disappoint.

“Lets extend our trip another week,” he suggests as he gets in bed next to you.

“Ha ha,” you mumble as you continue typing away on your laptop.

“Why can’t we?”

“We have lives to get back to...well, I have a life to get back to.”

“I know they’re things we have to do, but the world hasn’t set itself on fire yet. We can stay.”

“What could you possibly have to do?”

“Don’t be rude.”

“You don’t have a fucking job,” you laugh.

“I run the publishing company.”

“Uh huh, with Walt’s help.” “I pay Walt, don’t I?”

“Sure daddy,” you giggle as he closes your laptop.

“Tell me you don’t wanna stay longer,” he coos before kissing your shoulder.

“Of course I want to, but we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Ransom,” you moan, feeling his hand making its way between your legs.

“Why can’t we stay?”

“We have...oh fuck,” you sigh as you lull your head back.

“I wanna stay with you for another week, baby.”

“Ransom...”

“Never been this happy,” he groans as he starts massaging your clit faster.

“Please...fuck!”

“Never felt so good.”

“Ransom...you know we have to go back.”

“Then stop working and let me show you how happy you’ve made me this week.”

“Baby-”

“Please, sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” you squeal, cumming hard as he massages your neck with his tongue. “Baby, please!”

“You want me, sweetheart?” he questions, starting to fuck you with his fingers

“I always want you, Ransom!”

“Why? Why do you keep me around? Hmm?”

“Don’t-”

“Say it, after all we’ve talked about this week...tell me,” he pleads.

“I...I love you, Ransom.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I love you, Ransom! I love you so much”

“I love you too, sweetheart! I always have!”

“Shit!” you cry out as squirt hard on his fingers.

“You always make such a pretty mess for me, baby.”

“Ransom...”

“I wanna show you just how much I love you,” he moans as pulls out his fingers out, licking them before shoving them into your mouth. “Will you let me?”

You just is nod as you suck and lick his fingers clean.

Almost instantly, Ransom has you topless and on your back; kissing his way down your body as you beg him not to stop.  

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say it, baby,” he hums before licking your clit. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I need you so much, baby,” you whimper as he starts fucking you with his tongue. “Only wanna be with you!”

You grip his hair tight as he picks up his pace and starts teasing your clit with his thumb, and you start grinding your pussy against his face.

“Ransom...oh fuck! Honey, I’m so fucking close!” you cry out, your toes curling as you try to hold on.

All he does is pick up his pace, which sends you into a earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as you come apart.

“So desperate, baby. Desperate to be loved?” he smirks after cleaning up the mess you made.

“Just...just wanna be yours, Ransom.”

“I want you to be mine and mine alone,” he mumbles he licks and kisses his way back up your body.

“Please don’t...I’m not strong enough to get hurt again.”

“I don’t ever wanna hurt you, baby. Just wanna take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he husks, stopping to lick and suck on one of your nipples, while his one hand pinches and massages the other.

“Ah fuck!”

“When we get home,” he broods as he resumes kissing up your body, “you’re moving in with me and leaving that piece of shit.”

“Ransom-”

“You know you want to. You know you belong with me,” he encourages as he thrusts himself inside of you.

“Oh my GOD!”

“Feel so fucking good, baby!”

“Ransom we can’t...we have to...fuck! That’s the spot!” you whimper, hooking your right leg around his waist as you start to move with him. “Fuck, I need you so much!”

“Say you’ll come and live with me, baby! Don’t know how long...fuck! This fucking pussy!”

“I’m so close!”

“Say it, sweetheart! Say you’ll stay with me!”

“Ransom, I...I...ah shit! I can’t hold on!”

“Cunt always fucking squeezes me so tight!”

“Fuck!” you scream, digging your nails into his back as you squirt hard, your back arching just a bit as you fade into your euphoric state.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N!” Ransom growls into your neck right before biting down on it and gripping the sheets tight as his release fills you.

You both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breaths as Ransom rides out both your highs, and you try to form a complete thought.

“I love you, Y/N,” Ransom breathes out. “I love you and you love me, just be with me.”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“Why isn’t it? You don’t owe anyone shit.”

“Ransom-”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“You know I do!”

“Then just say yes, baby.”

“Ransom...I have to think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

“Everything,” you laugh humorlessly. “We just started this and I’m still...I’m still working on trusting you.”

“Even after-”

“You said so yourself, we can’t be like this when we get back home. We’re away from everyone and everything on this trip, and while it’s absolutely perfect, it’s not reality. I can’t be dumb about this. Not again.”

“I’m not Jack.”

“You played with Marta’s heart for money and killed Fran. You’re not a fucking saint. Ransom.”

“That’s fair,” he laughs, “but I love you. I have loved you for so long and if you just give me a chance...I can show you. I can be the man you want. The man you can trust.”

“If we can keep on track like we are, which I know won’t be easy,-” you state before he has a chance to interrupt, “then I’ll happily move in and divorce Jack.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You can always go and find someone less annoying.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirks and you burst out laughing. “If you say you need time, I’ll give you time. I am serious though, Y/N. I’ve never loved anyone besides you, and it’s never going to stop. I want to be with you forever.”

“I believe you, baby. I love you too. So fucking much,” you smile at him; wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close for a passionate kiss, giggling when you feel him stir back to life.

“I think you’re done working for the day,” he breathes once you two break apart, starting to move within you again; that infamous smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Ransom,” you moan with a small laugh.

“It’s our last full day here, lets end it with a bang,” he pouts as you start cracking up.

You and Ransom spend the rest of the day making love and ordering room service. The only time he lets you out of his arms when you have to go to the bathroom, and the second you get back, he’s back to holding you and putting on whatever movie you feel like watching.

As the day winds down, and you both begrudgingly get ready to leave tomorrow, your heart is full and hopeful. Yes, the week you’ve spent with him has been perfect and a complete dream, but you still have your reservations. It’s not like you don’t believe him, but once people get back around their comfort spaces, they tend to fall back into their old habits.

Good and bad.

“You’re thinking pretty fucking hard, sweetheart,” Ransom mumbles, causing you to jump.

“I thought you were sleeping,” you laugh softly.

“No one can sleep with how much noise is going on in your head.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your heart rate is slightly faster than usual, you breathe a lot easier when you’re asleep, and your index finger is making little circles on my hip; something you only do when you can’t sleep. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“Talk to me.”

“I just...I want this to work. I want to be with you and I want to trust you, but-”

“I’m not a fool, sweetheart. I know that I have a lifetime to make up for, and a lot to prove. You need time and I get that. For now, just be here with me. Live in the moment and worry about tomorrow when it gets here. I love you and you love me. We’ll figure this out, okay? Just rest of now.”

‘For now, just be here with me.’

If only it were that simple.

“I love you, Ransom.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Just try and rest, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” you tell him reassuringly

As you do your best to silence your thoughts, one thing keeps coming to mind:

How the hell do you determine if Ransom truly means everything he says, or if he has some ulterior motive?

How can you tell in Ransom’s love is true?

**

“Babe, where is your head at?” Daisy asks as you two get ready for whatever the hell she has planned for your birthday.

“Did you invite Ransom to whatever the hell it is you planned tonight?” you ask, smoothing your hands over your dress.

“Yes?”

“Fucking hell.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on? You’ve been in a weird head space since you two got back from your trip in March.”

“I just...he was so patient, but now it feels like he’s rushing me.”

“Rushing you to what?”

“Make a choice.”

“It’s only been a month and a half!?”

“That’s what I said.”

“To which he said...?”

“We’ve been arguing for the last two weeks,” you mutter, sitting down on her bed with a heavy sigh as you remember the last big argument you two had.

“What the fuck else do you want me to do?!” Ransom yelled, getting out of bed and pulling on his boxer briefs.

“Ransom, you told me you’d give me time!”

“Haven’t I?! How much more time-”

“It’s only been a month!”

“It took you a lot less time-”

“I’d advise you to think hard before you finish that fucking statement,” you warned.

“I don’t see why you can’t just trust me!”

“Because you’re right, Ransom!” you yelled at him as you sat up. “I mindlessly gave myself to Jack, and now look!”

“You know it’s not the same with me!”

“Ransom-”

“I haven’t fucked anyone besides you, I haven’t given my attention to anyone besides-”

“That’s not enough! A month isn’t long enough-”

“We would be able to explore this further if you’d fucking leave him!”

“I’m going home!” you yelled, getting out of his bed and looking for whatever piece of clothing he hadn’t torn off you when you got there. “Goddammit! I need a fucking-”

“If you’d just move in, you wouldn’t need to fucking-”

“Ransom, I swear to God!”

“You don’t love him, Y/N! At least, not anymore! You spend all of your free time here, you don’t even fuck him anymore, you can’t sleep when you’re away from me-”

“Ransom-”

“Just fucking be with me!”

“Why are you pushing this so much?!”

“Because I fucking love you!”

“Then you would be patient!”

“If you loved me, you would just trust me!”

“I’m not having this fucking argument with you again! Just give me some fucking clothes and let me-”

“If you leave this time, don’t fucking come back, Y/N. I’m not gonna keep doing this shit with you, cause you’re a fucking coward!”

“Then I guess this is done,” you shrugged.

“Y/N, I fucking mean it!”

“Me too. If you’re gonna fucking bully me, I guess this is the end of this!”

Ransom went two weeks without talking to you before texting you:

‘You know I didn’t mean it. Just fucking come home.’

Aka

“I’m sorry.”

You, in all your stubborn glory, refused to see him, which only resulted in another argument.

You’re too stubborn, he’s a jackass, you’re afraid of everything, he’s too much of a hot headed shit head to see when he’s wrong, you’re a bitch, he’s an complete asshole...

So on and so on.

You weren’t sure if he’d want anything to do with your birthday, because he’d been so...

“Is he coming?” you ask Daisy.

“He said he was.”

“For fucks sake!”

“What did I do wrong?!”

“It’s not you, it’s he and I. We’re having the world’s dumbest fucking fight and I don’t know...I miss him so much, but he’s such a fucking asshole sometimes. And I get it, okay? I do. I put him in a shitty spot, I’m still married and he’s trying to figure if I’m going to pick him or not, but I’m just fucking scared. Yes, Ransom has been up front with me about everything, but I trusted Jack so fast and now look.”

“Do you want my input?”

“No, but I know it would help.”

“Bitch,” she smirks, taking a seat next to you and you chuckle. “I believe that Ransom loves you. I’ve seen him out and he doesn’t even look at other women, the rumor mill says that he’s actually taken a hands on roll with the company, he’s made some pretty smart investments, and I can tell that he wouldn’t be so upset about this if he didn’t have real feelings for you. I know it’s scary, but just take the leap. It’s painfully obvious that you love him, and hes been in love with you...”

“I just don’t want to get-”

“Babe, if he fucks you over, I’ll chop his fucking balls off. Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout?”

“But I really wanted to be,” she sighs and you burst out laughing. “Just be with him, the man is so in love with you...I think you’ll be happy. I actually believe that he’ll be good to you, which is insane because he’s a piece of shit, but he seems to want to change for you. Just tell him. Tell him you love him and you want to be with him.”

“You really think he’s worth it?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she laughs softly as you lay your head on her shoulder.

“What if it all goes to shit?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together, just like we always have.”

“I feel like birthdays are supposed to be happier than this.”

“Especially when it’s your 30th ,” she giggles.

“If this is a shit show-”

“Oh, we’re totally going to Five Guys.”

“You know me so well,” you smile as she cracks up.

As you both finish up getting ready, you try to ignore the feeling in your stomach that tells you something is going to go wrong. All that matters is that you love Ransom and he loves you, because that’s more than enough....

Right?

**

Daisy surprised you with a party at your absolute favorite restaurant. The place is so damn expensive, so you only go on special occasions, and Daisy told you that another year of you existing is the most important thing that anyone could ever celebrate.

You started crying before you got your first drink.

Soon enough, the drinks were flowing, people were eating and dancing, and everyone was instantly becoming more comfortable with each other.

“Isn’t your boss married?” Daisy asks with a slight slur as she approaches you with two drinks in hand.

“I mean, I am too,” you scowl, hating how jealous you are at the sight of her shamelessly flirting with Ransom.

“Not really.”

“Do not start.”

“Oh come on!”

“You’re the one that invited him and his parents! I didn’t know anything about this!”

“I invited them out of obligation, and I’m fucking regretting it, because Jack’s mom is being a fucking bitch to the staff,” she mutters with an eye roll. “Ah fuck, Ransom’s coming over.”

“Daisy, please don’t let him-”

“You have to face him at some point, babe.”

“On my birthday?!” “You’re the one that’s been avoiding him. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, babe,” she laughs, kissing your cheek then walking off.

“I guess I know what you two were talking about,” he sighs as he comes up behind you.

“I don’t wanna argue with you tonight, Ransom. I really don’t.” “Can you please look at me?”

“No, because then everyone will know.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Can we not have this talk here, where literally anyone can hear. Besides, Jack looks pissed enough as it is. He’s been on edge all day.”

“I’ll bet he has,” Ransom chuckles.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Take a walk with me.”

“Ransom-”

“You’re the one who wants to talk in private.”

“I can’t just-”

“I won’t take you out of here unless you ask me,” he promises and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you sigh, finally turning around but not looking at him, “lead the way.”

You feel Jack’s eyes on you, as well as your parents, and you can feel a storm brewing. The last thing you need is for anyone finding you and Ransom doing something you shouldn’t, so in this moment, you tell yourself that nothing can happen.

Once you two reach the coat check, he stands aside to the side to let you, following right behind you and closing the door.

‘Nothing can happen,’ you tell yourself mentally.

“Ransom, I know I shouldn’t have just-”

He interrupts you with a passionate and soul stealing kissing and you don’t even put up a fight.

‘God, that didn’t last long, did it?’

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes once you two break apart, lifting the bottom of your dress up.

“I’ve missed you too, but Ransom...oh fuck!” you whimper, the feel of his fingers on your clit make you feral.

“Come home, sweetheart,” he begs, slowly and easily sliding two fingers into your already soaked cunt.

“Ransom....oh fuck!” you moan, lulling your head back.

“We can make this work, I’ll take care of you, and I won’t let any of those fucks hurt you. I love you,” he broods before starting to bite and suck on your sweet spot right below your ear

“Jesus Ransom!”

“Missed having you in my bed, in my arms...underneath me....on the balcony,” he breathes, and you feel his smirk on your neck.

“Feels too fucking...fuck!” you cry out softly, cumming hard and feeling the pleasure that only he can make you feel.

God, you missed him.

“You let him fuck you, baby?” Ransom questions, fucking you through your high with his fingers before ripping your panties off.

“N-no baby, I only want you,” you whine, needing him to fill you in the worst way possible.

“Cause you’re mine?” he asks, undoing his pants before hoisting you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. “You’re all mine?” he grunts as thrusts himself inside of you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Tell me, sweetheart! Tell me you’re all mine!”

“I’m all...all yours! I only want to be with you!” you moan. “Fuck, missed you so much, baby!”

“Never wanna sleep without you again! I love you so fucking much!” thrusting hard fast, gripping you like he’s afraid you’re going to vanish into thin air.

“Oh fuck! Ransom!”

“Let them hear you, sweetheart! Let them know you’re mine!”

“Ransom-”

“C’mon baby, you know you want me! You choose me!” he encourages as he finds that spot within you that always brings you to the state of pure bliss that no one else has ever been able to.

You push yourself out of the euphoric high you’re close to and force yourself to think about the conversation you had with Daisy. You do love Ransom. You love him so much it makes you insane (or maybe it’s just him that makes you insane), and you don’t want to spend another day without him. Yes, they’re are issues and it’s definitely not picture perfect, but you’re willing to work out the issues.

You want to work them out.

“Fuck, I’m yours, Ransom! Yours only!” you yell as you squirt hard, wrapping your arms around him tight as you try and hold on.

“Fuck!” he growls into your chest as fills you to brim, like always, making you so full and happy.

So fucking loved.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he husks after riding out both your highs, “I want you home. I want you by my side. They’re things we need to talk about, I know that, but I’m tired of this. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ransom, with all of my heart.”

“We’ll leave now and-”

“I can’t just leave Jack without saying anything. I at least-”

“You don’t owe him shit. Lets just fucking go.”

“It’s my birthday party.”

“Daddy has gifts for you at home,” he smirks and you burst out laughing.

All hell is about to break loose, but he still makes you laugh like an idiot. God, you are so in love with this man.

“You know they heard us, we have to-”

“We don’t have to do a single fucking thing we don’t feel like doing.”

“Ransom-”

“Fuck all of these-”

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, RANSOM!” Jack demands as he bangs on the coat check door.

So much for having a happy birthday.

“Fuck!” you sigh as Ransom pulls out and slowly sets you down.

“Hey, you have nothing to be scared of. He’s not gonna lay a fucking finger on you, I swear.”

“I don’t want you getting into a-”

“OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR, RANSOM! I SWEAR TO GOD!” Jack demands as Ransom pulls up his boxer briefs and pants.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” Ransom promises with a reassuring smile.

He makes it so damn hard to not trust him.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Ransom warns as soon as he opens the door.

“Fuck you, Drysdale!” he spits, doing his best push him aside, but failing miserably. “The fuck did he say to you, huh? What the fuck did he promise you?!”

“Jack, you know this marriage has been dead for a while-”

“No! You and I...I know I haven’t been the best-”

“Jack, please don’t do this. It’s just over-”

“Y/N-” Jack interrupts as he tries to make his way to you.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Ransom growls.

“What are you gonna do? Not a single fucking thing, because I bet you didn’t tell her the fucking truth.”

“Shut the fuck up! That wasn’t apart of our agreement!”

“It wasn’t an agreement, remember? It was a bet,” Jack smiles sadistically.

Okay, what the fuck is going on?

“What’s he talking about, Ransom?” you ask, backing away from him as your heart to starts to fall apart.

“Listen, lets just go home and we’ll talk all about-”

“Tell her the fucking truth, Ransom! It’s not like you won her heart fair and square-”

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” he roars at Jack.

So much for not having your business out in the open.

“Ransom....no...I was a fucking bet to you? This is all a fucked up game to you?”

“I swear it’s not, if you’ll just hear me out-”

“It’s been a bet from day one,” Jack chuckles humorlessly, “since our first fucking date. What was it? $10,000 I won off of you?”

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Ransom warns before turning his attention back towards you. “I swear to God, I was gonna tell you tonight when we got home-”

“We don’t have a fucking home,” you sob, finally putting the pieces together. “So, that’s why you were pushing me to pick you? What? Was there a deadline for me to pick one of you?”

When they both stood there completely silent, you let out an incredulous  laugh.

Of fucking course.

“MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY OF ALL DAYS?!” you shout. “Of course, because the both of you are sick fucks, it makes all the sense in the fucking world!”

“Sweetheart, please, lets just go back-”

“How much was I worth? How much was my love and affection worth?!”

“Y/N, please-”

“HOW FUCKING MUCH, RANSOM?!”

“$40,000,” he replies softly, looking away from you.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed now! You knew what the fuck you were doing, but it’s all the same to you, isn’t it? I’m just another Marta?”

“This is not the same thing!”

“People really don’t matter to either one of you, do they? We’re all just a giant Monopoly game to you? Who cares who gets hurt as long as you all get your fucking money, right? Your happiness is all that matters?”

“Please, lets just go...I’ll explain everything-”

“There’s nothing to fucking explain, Ransom! Not a single fucking thing! You won, fair and square, so I guess you get your money! Right, Jack? I was gonna leave you for him, so he gets paid?”

“Honey-”

“Don’t you dare fucking ‘honey’ me,” you warn with a low growl. “I have put up with hell during this fucking marriage, because you fucking knew I wouldn’t leave to spare my family, but you had to go and fucking bet on it?! I mattered that little to you?! Yeah no, I’m done with the both of you. I can’t fucking do any of this anymore. Pay him his money, sign the fucking papers, and the both of you can fuck off and go straight to hell,” you scowl before pushing past the both of them and storming out.

“Y/N, please just-”

“Jack, I swear to fucking Christ, you put your hands on me and I’ll fucking stab you!”

“Please, just...I know it’s all fucked, but I do love you!”

“That’s why you’re cheating all the fucking time?! That’s why you tried to sleep with my best friend?!”

“I can do better-”

“You’re pathetic and I’m tired. I want a fucking divorce and that’s final.”

“Sweetheart, please just-”

“I fucking hate you, Ransom!” you yell, stopping and turning your full attention towards him.

“You don’t mean that!” he retorts as his eyes start to well up with tears. “You love me just as much as I love you!”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU! NOT ANYMORE!” you scream as angry tears start streaming down your face. “I DON’T BELIEVE A SINGLE FUCKING THING YOU HAVE TO SAY! YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS THE REST OF THEM!”

“Baby-”

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me! I’m not your fucking anything! I was just a toy to get you more money and now you have it! Leave me alone and stay the fuck away fuck from me!”

“You know how much I-”

Ransom’s cut off by a fist to the face by Daisy.

“She said she’s fucking done! Leave her alone!” Daisy snaps at both Ransom and Jack.

“Daisy, you know good and damn well-”

“Jack, I’ve been begging for a fucking reason to fucking kill you! Say one more fucking thing and tonight will be that fucking night!” she warns before taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant with her. “What do you want? What do you need?” she asks as you two make your way to her car.

“Can I just stay with you?” you sob.

“Anything you want, babe,” she promises, starting her car with her key fob before opening the door for you.

The entire drive to her house, you just cry and scream; trying to figure out how you got mixed up in all of their bullshit. Your phone won’t stop going off, and you know it’s Ransom. Yeah, you’re sure that Jack is trying to talk to you too, but it’s mainly Ransom. The tears in his eyes, the way he looked at you, the way he loved you...

It’s Ransom.

“It’s going to be okay,” Daisy promises as she pulls up to her, resting her hand on you thigh.

“I really don’t think so this time. I love him so much and I believed...I believed in every fucking thing he said.”

“Which one?”

“Ransom. Its always been Ransom.”

**

“You don’t think you could ever see yourself settling down and being a house wife?” Ransom asked as he held you close and you rested your head on his chest.

You’d taken a day off from sight seeing in Chicago and just spent the day in bed with Ransom. Fucking, talking, laughing, watching movies, and getting to know each other.

It was the best fucking day you’d ever had.

“Why should I want to?”

“I could take care of you.”

“What? Are you bothered by how much money I make?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he scoffed with a shrug, “I just know you’ve been working hard for forever, and I think you’d like to just sit back and relax.”

You were thoughtful before you responded with, “I guess...if I’m comfortable enough...if I trust the guy enough, then yeah. I could be a housewife.”

“Could you see yourself trusting me enough?” he asked timidly.

You looked up and smiled at him, “maybe.”

“What are we doing today?” Daisy asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You’d been staying with her for the last month and it had been a whirlwind to say the least.

“I figured I’d sign on the house, then get a bunch of furniture.”

“Did Jack finally sign the fucking papers?”

“Yeah, and I can only believe he did because you slashed his tires and destroyed his car.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t slash his fucking throat when he popped up here.”

“A bold move considering how much you hate him. How much you’ve always hated him.”

Jack waited three days before showing up to Daisy’s house; deciding he had a right to start making demands.

“You have to talk to me, Y/N! I’m your fucking husband!” he shouted, standing on the top step of Daisy’s house.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she yelled, letting go of you and making her way to the window, “FUCK OFF!”

“She’s my fucking wife, Daisy! Stay out of this!”

“Jack, I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you myself!”

“It’s not like she’s fucking innocent! Letting Ransom use her as his own personal fuck doll!”

“I’m gonna murder him,” Daisy muttered before backing away from the window and storming out of the room.

“Daisy! Daisy, stop it!” you shouted, getting up and running after her.

“This is my house and I’m telling you to get the fuck out of here!” she roared as soon as she opened the front door.

“You’re keeping my wife in there-”

“Jack, I swear to God! I punched Ransom in the fucking face and I’ll punch you too!”

“I’m not fucking afraid of a little who-”

The sound of Daisy’s fist connecting with Jack’s nose made you jump.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“You want a fucking black eye to go with it?! Get off of my property! I’m not as fucking nice as Y/N! I will call the cops and press charges! Now, get the fuck off of my property!”

“This isn’t fucking over,” he growled before storming off.

“Daisy, he can press charges!” you yelled as soon as she slammed the door shut.

“I wish he fucking would, he was on my goddamn property, uninvited, making demands, and screaming. I’ll tell the cops I was fearing for my life,” she shrugged. “Are you okay?”

“Daisy-”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be, thank you,” you sighed as your eyes started to water. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hun,” she smiled weakly as wrapped you in a tight hug. “Lets order Chinese and watch Hereditary.”

“You always know the right things to say,” you laughed and she laughed along with you.

Two days later, he dropped off a hospital bill and she just laughed, saying,

“He’s a fucking lunatic if he thinks I’m paying for his fucking nose. He can take me to fucking court. My dad is a better lawyer than his is anyway.”

A week later, he called you screaming about the divorce papers and, once again, you just begged him to sign them. As usual, he told you no and that you two could work through all of it.

“Oh, he’s gonna sign those fucking papers,” Daisy muttered, getting up and putting her shoes on.

“How the hell are gonna get him to agree to that?” you scoffed as you threw your phone down.

“I’m gonna wreck his precious little Porsche.”

“Yeah okay,” you laughed before laying back and flipping through channels. However, your demeanor changed when you saw her grab her switchblade. “DAISY!”

“Be back in a little, darling!” she called over her shoulder as she practically skipped down the steps.

30 minutes later, she was back with a look of pure satisfaction on her face.

“Daisy-”

“He should be signing those papers any day now.” “What did you do?!”

“Oh, ya know, slashed his tires, broke all his windows, smashed the windshield-”

“DAISY!”

“I can be just as crazy as him.”

“They’re gonna have you committed,” you laughed.

“If they haven’t caught me by now, they’ll never catch me.”

Three days later, your lawyer called you to tell that Jack returned the papers, signed and without fuss. You were excited to tell Daisy, but your parents decided that would be a good day to show up and try to talk to you.

Cause the universe can never let you have a good fucking day,

“You have to admit that you’re somewhat responsible for this. I warned you,” your Mother snapped.

“If you came here to talk me back into getting back with him, you’re too late. My lawyer already called me to tell me he signed the papers,” you shrugged as you lit a cigarette.

“Enough hasn’t happened?! Now you have to-”

“Leave her alone,” your Father sighed, reaching for your cigarettes and grabbing one of his own.

“For fucks sake! You’re a doctor! You know how bad-”

“God, just stop complaining for five fucking minutes, please!” your Father shouted, slamming his hand against the table it, and it caused both you and your Mother to jump.

“Listen Y/N,” your Father started, “obviously, we’re not proud and we’re not happy.”

“Dad-”

“Just hear me out. Fucking in a restaurant full of your family and friends? We raised you’d much better than that.”

Oh, if only he knew where else you and Ransom had been having fun.

“However, we understand. You and Jack...it should’ve been over a while ago and we...we shouldn’t have pushed for you to stay. Finding out that all of this was just a bet...lets just say that his Father exchanged a few words after you left,” he sighed before he took a drag from his cigarette. “Now, as for you and Ransom-”

“Do not bring him up,” you instantly snapped, taking a drag from your own cigarette.

“Y/N-”

“Drop it.”

“You can’t just-”

“Y/F/N, just leave it alone,” she urged softly.

You knew she would understand.

“Fine, anyway, as an apology, your Mother and I wanna pay for your new house.”

“Um thanks, but no thanks,” you scoffed before you took a final drag from your cigarette and ashed it.

“Sweet Pea, we’re trying to make up for this-”

“If you want to make up for things, maybe try just being better parents. It’s not that hard.”

“You have to understand-”

“No, you have to understand. I don’t ask either of you for anything, I take care of myself, and up until recently, I’ve stayed out of trouble. The moment I told you both about how bad things were getting, you made me feel like shit for wanting better. Then, when I rightfully filed for a divorce the first time, I got bullied into going back. He beat me the fuck up, and you both made excuses, blamed me, and pushed me back to him. I should’ve been your top priority and I wasn’t. I don’t want fancy gifts or money, I just want you two to be better parents,” you finished with a small sob as you dried your eyes. “Now, you two should leave. Daisy is gonna be home soon and you two are the last two people she wants to see.”

“We’ll call you in a few days,” is all your Mother said as they both got up.

When Daisy got home and crying, she didn’t even ask what was wrong, she just sat next to you and held you. It had become routine.

“Ya know, I’m happy that you let Jack keep everything, but you should’ve gone for the Maserati,” Daisy sighs, getting up as her doorbell rings.

“I didn’t want it.”

“Yeah, but I did,” she calls over shoulder. “You could’ve gotten it and gifted it to me. Then-oh, what the fuck do you want?!” she suddenly yells.

“Jesus fucking Christ, calm down, Daisy. I’m here to see, Y/N,” Ransom retorts, clearly in no mood to deal with a middle man.

“She doesn’t wanna see you-”

“I’m not leaving, Daisy. Even if you do punch me again.”

“I should fucking stab you.”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t past you.”

You take a deep breath before getting up and making your way to the front door.

“I’ll handle it, Dais-”

“Hun-”

“He really isn’t going to leave, so I may as well-”

“I can always call the cops.”

“Lets save that for if Jack comes back,” you chuckle softly.

Daisy looks from Ransom to you before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Then there were two.

“What is she? Your personal bodyguard now?” Ransom scoffs.

“What do you want, Hugh?”

“Don’t.”

“Isn’t that what you make the help call you? Isn’t that all I am? A trinket you can use to get money?” “Stop it, you know that’s not true! I love you!”

“There was a time when I actually believed that,” you scoffed.

“Listen, please just hear me out. You won’t answer my texts or calls-”

“Why should I?!”

“Because you don’t know everything!”

“Hugh-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?! You got your money, didn’t you?!”

“I didn’t take the fucking money!”

“Why the hell not? You went through all this-”

“I LOVE YOU!” he shouts and you let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t care about any of it. I know I’m an asshole and that it’s to believe that I didn’t care about you at all, but that’s not...God, if only understood just how much I actually love you.”

“Are there no other women for you to manipulate? You haven’t-”

“I’ll show you my bank account-”

“What the fuck will that prove? You had a ton of money before, so $40,000 isn’t really going to do much, is it?”

“Sweetheart, what can I do?”

“Ransom, I trusted you! I trusted you; I gave you my heart. I let you do things to me that I’d never let anyone else do to me. I was about to face hell for you, and then I find out, ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY NO LESS, that this was all a bet to you! How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?! The worst part is, I still love you and I miss you like crazy, but I don’t trust you. I can’t. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever will again.”

“Please, let me just explain myself. Hear me out and if you still...if you still feel like this is something we can’t salvage, I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I don’t, try to think of something else.”

“Ransom-”

“I’m not gonna tell you that I’m gonna let you go, sweetheart. Cause I fucking can’t. I’ve held you in my arms, I’ve made love to you, I’ve fucking felt your love which is what I wanted sine forever...I can’t just quit and walk away.”

“Ransom-”

“Just hear me out, okay? You know me well enough that I wouldn’t beg if I didn’t care. If I didn’t love you.”

He had you there.

You run a hand through your hair and huff, “let me go and put on some shoes-”

“Why-”

“You’re insane if you think Daisy is gonna let you step foot in her house after all of this.”

“Oh for fucks sake-”

“Ransom, she punched you once. You think she won’t do it again?”

“Fucking fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

The second you step you make your way back into the living area, Daisy is looking at you with a cocked eyebrow and her arms folded across her chest.

“I don’t need it today, Dais.”

“So, you’re just gonna take him back?”

“I haven’t decided on anything, I’m just going to talk to him.”

“Uh huh.”

“Dais.”

“You do what you think is best.”

“Daisy, I know, okay? I fucking know but-”

“I get it, babe. I really do. I know you love him, but you’ve been through so much already. However, with Ransom...I know you still cry when you think I can’t hear you, you hold your phone a little bit longer when he’s the one calling you before you hit ignore...you’re never going to be over him, so you need to do this.”

“Thank you,” you smile, eyes watery, as you sit down and hug her.

“I better get a good fucking report, or his fucking car is next,” she warns and you laugh with a sniffle.

“You gonna be okay, babe?”

“Like you said: I need to do this,” you shrug.

You get up, take a deep breath, and step into your flip flops.

It’s not going to be easy, but you need some sort of closure...or answer.

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask as you strap yourself into the passenger side of his Beamer.

“My house?”

“Nice fucking try,” you scoff.

“I’m not gonna fucking try anything, Y/N,” he sighs as he turns on the car.

“As already stated, I don’t trust you. So no, not your fucking house.”

“Okay, then where do you wanna go?”

“This was your idea, Ransom.”

“Because you wouldn’t answer your phone!”

“I can go back inside right now if you want.”

“Jesus, fucking stop. You already know I can’t win an argument against you,” he sighs as he starts his car. “It’s not like this is a discussion you want or will have in public, so lets just go to my house. The moment you feel uncomfortable or like it’s going somewhere you don’t want it to go, I’ll bring you back, or pay for a car service for you.”

“Ransom-”

“If there’s another place that you’ll feel more comfortable at, we’ll go there.”

You have a mini mental debate with yourself before suggesting, “I’m going to sign for my new house today. We can talk there.”

“There’s no fucking furniture.”

“Ransom, I swear to God.”

“Okay okay, tell me where it is. We’ll go,” he mutters as he pulls off.

You put the address in his phone and set it up for him to hear the directions, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. As you both sit in silence, while he drives, you try to prep yourself for what’s about to happen.

Being alone with him terrifies the hell out of you at this point, because it’s been so long and you need him. Every part of you needs him, just like always. You have to be strong though. You have to decide what the hell you’re going to do, because the pain you’re constantly living with while living in limbo is too much. You have to decide if you’re officially done with Hugh Ransom Drysdale, or if you’re ready to quit him for good.

You have to decide if love is enough to save the sinking ship you two have been on for the last month.

~~

taglist: @emerald-evans​, @maroonsunrise83​, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ , @companionjones​, @autumnrose40​, @fuckingbye​, @pono-pura-vida​, @nomadstucky​, @mazda098​, @chemtrails-club​

[almost-a-class-act]

hi I saw your recent post in the tag, so um are you taking Givenson prompts? bc if you are can I request a "9. . .out of fear" from that "things you said" list please? I hope that's okay!

Hello! Thanks for the request! I am just now finding my way in the Justified fandom so I'm excited to hear from new pals.

The prompt was: "Things you said out of fear"

--

It’s the second hat Raylan has lost to a bullet, an “if I had a nickel” sort of situation if ever there was one – except that he’d been able to play down the first one pretty effectively on account of no one currently alive in Harlan County having been there to see it except Loretta.

The second time, he isn’t so lucky.

The sequence of events, as described to him afterward – they’re somewhat muddled in his own recollection, for obvious reasons – are as follows. The bullet passes through his hat, not quite clean, grazing his head. Raylan goes down, as does the fellow who took the shot (cheap, through a window while Raylan stood on the porch), because taking the shot had given him away and Tim needs less than that to punch a ticket at four hundred meters.

By the time he sits up, people are running, which is a relief because it means the situation is going to be handled by someone other than him. Getting shot in the head is no less disorienting than it had been the first time, the sort of thing where you’re scared to touch it in case it’s so much worse than you think. Tim is running, too, and he hurtles up onto the porch, one knee coming down hard on the wood so that he can hunch in and comb away the hair that’s hiding the wound spilling blood down Raylan’s face.

“Think you’re gonna live?” Tim asks, tone as even as it always is, even as his fingertips press into Raylan’s scalp, checking for himself.

“For my sins,” Raylan replies. “Ouch. Do you mind?”

“Looks okay,” Tim says, ignoring him. “Some stitches, maybe.”

Everything is a churn around them, and Raylan patiently lets an EMT with much gentler hands deal with the wound while Tim leaves the porch to congregate in a group with Art and Rachel, within eyesight. Once the bandage is in place, Raylan figures he’s got the okay to do the paperwork on this one tomorrow, and catches Tim’s eye.

They’re only just outside of Lexington, which means the drive isn’t the long slog from Harlan County, and they’re home in twenty minutes. Raylan has a hunch that Tim has a rant locked and loaded, but on the drive all he engages in is a smattering of shop talk – not uncommon for them, to be fair.

In the apartment, Raylan makes his way in the dark to the kitchen, searching out bourbon to cure what ails him. He can see Tim through the doorway to the living room out of the corner of his eye, yanking the curtains across, stopping to scratch the cat behind the ears.

Tim used to closed the curtains on Raylan’s bedroom window every time he came by, too. There aren’t any sightlines to worry about in the apartment they live in now, but it seems to be a force of habit anyway.

And then the light comes on, and Tim is leaning in the kitchen doorway.

“Shoot,” Raylan says, holding up the bottle mutely to ask if Tim wants a pour. He shakes his head.

“Don’t ask me to cover you and then do dumbass shit like stand out in the open.”

“I wasn’t doing dumbass shit,” Raylan says patiently.

“You could teach a college course in doing dumbass shit. Do you think if I wanted to live with anyone else, I’d be living with you?” Tim demands. “You use my mouthwash and you keep letting the cat out.”

“By accident.”

“The circumstances of the situation don’t matter. The cat is still outside at the end.”

Raylan is not going to smile, because Tim is clearly very serious about this, but sometimes the things that come out of Tim’s mouth are very… well, Tim. “Are you telling me not to get myself killed because I’m your last resort?”

“I’m telling you not to get shot in the head.”

He turns and vanishes from the doorway. Raylan has stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth.

“Tim.”

There’s no response, and Raylan drains his glass and follows after. He finds him in the bedroom, enacting the same routine as every night, the same things he would do in the same order no matter the circumstances: Boots, watch, clothes come off, putting on that soft, worn-in Dragonriders of Pern t-shirt and shorts, disappearing into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He always looks young in pajamas, standing at the sink with toothbrush in hand, and Raylan starts to reach for him because sometimes those odd, tense lines in his body don’t go away on their own.

“Don’t touch me,” Tim says pointedly, around his toothbrush, and Raylan redirects.

When they get into bed, sometimes Tim stays up to read while Raylan dozes next to him, but tonight he braces up on his elbow and turns off the light. There might be forty-five seconds of silence, and then Tim rolls over and tucks a proprietary arm around Raylan’s middle, tugging him in until he has Raylan bundled in clumsily against his chest. Raylan lets himself be big-spooned, though he can’t help his bemusement.

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“This is me touching you,” Tim mumbles into the back of his neck.

“Got it.”

“Go to sleep." The edge in Tim's voice from before has gone down a little. Now I can keep you where I can see you. “You do less dumbass shit when you’re sleeping.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Christmas As A Roamer - The Seventh Christmas

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters,

You couldn’t hold in your snort of laughter as you entered the hotel room. No scratch that, hotel suite. An actual suite! A suite that was quiet possibly bigger than your whole house growing up. 

“Everything ok Miss?” the bell hop asked.

“Oh yes, thank you, just kind of feels like I’ve fallen face first into Home Alone 2.”

He smiled at you and tried to hide his laughter. 

“Well, it’s not that room but it’s pretty similar. Mr Thrombey says to remind you to run up the room service, something about Hugh paying.”

You failed to answer as your attention was pulled by the huge Christmas tree in the corner.

Christmas trees were a standard feature over the festive period but they held a special significance for witches. The thick fir tree stood tall and broad in the corner, well decorated and instead of an angel or fairy on its top there was a witch on a broom that suspiciously resembled you. 

“That’s a gift from Mr Thormbey, the box is in the cloakroom for you to take it with you.” the bell hop gestured towards what you guessed was the cloakroom and you nodded in response. 

“Can I get you anything else Miss? A tour of the room?” 

As sweet and polite as the beta bell hop was you really didn’t want his scent all over the place. Your new higher end, better quality suppressants had frazzled your senses and put you on high alert as your body got used to them. 

“I’m good, thank you.” you tipped him well and you locked the door tightly behind him as he left. You pulled a vine from a jar in your bag and placed it over the lock and handle. It grew and secured the door further. Thank you Cordelia.

You wandered around the suite, taking in its, well  you weren’t sure, what to call it, over the topness? That wasn’t a word. Opulence then? It was definitely fancy.

When you found the bathtub that you could probably go swimming in, you decided to drop a certain elderly alpha a text.

Thank you Harlan, quick question as I’m not bijouy like you, is this a pool or a bathtub?

Harlan loved your sarcasm and it had been a personal highlight of his over the last few months to see you go toe to toe with his various family members, especially his grandson. That along with when you thrown said grandson straight across the garden into a tree and then onwards into the fountain, which you’d blessed to help rid him of the spell that had been placed on him. The tree wasn’t necessary but he’d grabbed your ass too many times. 

Working with the Thrombeys had been quite the experience. You’d managed to get a few hours in the local witchcraft store as the pack and coven running it had experienced a surge in pups post-war, which was to be expected but with everyone out of sync, the usual staggering of births was out the window. You’d entered looking for a few supplies and left with a job. 

A few weeks in Harlan had arrived with his nurse asking for a witch for their annual Halloween festivities. The coven had given a firm no saying they were too busy with the store and pups, and couldn’t spare the time this year. You were surprised and a little confused. Their store was doing well, why did they usually work for this random rich man, especially as a token witch at Halloween. Witches usually avoid things like that and the stigma that came with it. Many witches saw it comparable to the few witches that were kept alive and kept as ‘guests’ by rich families after Salem. News flash, they weren’t guests and were used for protection and often subjected to repeated alpha commands to stop them leaving. 

You’d continued to pretend you were minding your own business, whilst eves-dropping. Your name pulled your attention away from the shelf you’d been at for the same ten minutes.

“Y/N” your name again.

“Yes, Luna Zelda.”

“Harlan here is looking for a witch to stay with them over the Halloween weekend. We usually oblige but you know yourself how busy we are.”

Harlan had stood from his wheelchair and offered you his hand.

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with me.” you’d replied, smiling as Hilda had sniggered in the corner, her three month old on her hip.

“Well it has everything to do with you, Miss?” Harlan replied, offering his hand again.

“Miss Non Of Your Business.” you replied, turning and walking away into the back of the store.

By the next day it had very much been your business. Zelda had done her best to convince you, spending the whole afternoon explain why one of them would be their token witch each year. The busyness of the store wasn’t constant and they had months in the low season where they wouldn’t break even. Yet they clearly weren’t struggling. 

“Harlan pays well.” 

Then Zelda had told you the amount and you’d been a bit sick in your mouth. This was quickly followed with you offering to look after the pups so they could still do the job but with so many little ones around they understandably didn’t want to be parted from the pack, especially not as witches at Halloween.

Then Fiona had called. She did this on occasion, as much as you tried to brush her off but with one of the girls from Christmas Eve being a  clairvoyant it would sometimes spark her worry. She was also incredibly nosy.

Of course, she knew Harlan. It made sense they were a similar age, both from money, he could be trusted she told you and “goddess knows child you need the money”.

It had given you food for thought and then you’d been awoken by a scuffle outside the bar across the street. Zelda and Hilda had let you stay in the small studio above the shop as part of your working with them but the bar across the street was often a curse to your white wolf ears.

“Hands off my omega!” was followed by more arguing, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, glass being broken and a scream of no. A growl ripped deep in your chest and you were out the window, barefooted and standing on your broom with your jeans thrown on over your pyjamas. The scream wasn’t an average scream, if any could be called that. It was an omega and she was terrified. 

You were quick across the street and at the side of the omega who was now bent across her alpha shaking him, what seemed to be their pack trying to help. The alpha that had done the damage was now being held back. 

“You’ve done it now Ransom, no amount of Thrombey money can fix this.” 

You scowled and flicked your broom to stand in front of him, without casting an eye away from the alpha on the floor.

“Keep him as you in stance”

The blonde being held back went stiff, arms by his side and stood ridged in mirror to your broom. Those holding him shuffled back, as whispers asked who you were.

“May I help?” you asked the omega, she looked up at you, to her alpha on the floor, then across to who you guessed was the alpha of the pack.

He nodded and answered a quiet “please”.

You could hear the voice of the pack beta on the phone requesting the ambulance be quick.

You sniffed and scanned his body using both your white wolf instincts and your powers of a witch. 

“Tell them he has a broken jaw, his eye socket is shattered and he has swelling to his brain. There’s a bleed to his brain too.”

There was a mix of whimpers and growls in response.

“I can help but it’ll be temporary. Should give you long enough to get him to the hospital and for them to get him in surgery.”

You looked up at the alpha of the pack. 

“You have my permission.”

You used your powers to reduce the bleeding and swelling, you summoned your bag from the open window of the studio and dabbed a mix of peppermint and wintergreen oils around his face. You turned to his omega and placed his hand in hers, telling her to keep talking to him. It was then you noticed the marks on her arms.

“Did he do this?” You asked nudging your head in the direction of the alpha you now knew as Ransom, still held in place by your broom. She nodded and turned away from you.

You rose from your knees and nodded to the pack alpha, who followed you towards Ransom. You sighed as you heard his wallet being pulled from his jeans.

“You don’t owe me anything but I will take him.”

There was a darkness to your eyes as you turned towards the pack alpha for permission. You didn’t really care if he gave it you or not, one way or another you were teaching this arsehole a lesson. The alpha nodded.

“Do what you want with him, just make sure he never comes near my pack again.”

You moved quickly grabbing Ransom by the throat and dropping the broom to stand on it and fly away. There was a gasp from the crowd as you did and you realised you literally didn’t give a shit about what they thought.

You’d spent the night teaching the spoiled trust fund brat a lesson. Tossing him through the air, a dip in the river, followed by you leaving him up a tree. Towards the end you thought you should maybe feel sorry for him, but you didn’t. You knew as soon as you saw him outside the bar he’d been hit with a spell and you guessed he’d been battling with it for least six months but Ransom was still an asshole. A good looking asshole but an asshole non the less. The spell had just emphasised his already there traits. 

You landed on the Thrombey's driveway as the sun rose and were quickly greeted by the banging of the large front doors being swung open and a shotgun being pointed in your face. 

“You must be daddy dearest” you’d quipped as you used magic to pull the gun from his hands and tossed it into the windscreen of the vintage looking BMW parked to the side of the house. 

“I wouldn’t bother fighting her or pointing any guns either” came Harlan’s voice, “she’s a six and could have us all on our asses before we’ve had chance to say thank you.”

“What the hell are we saying thank you for?” a female voice snapped.

“Well she didn’t kill him did she?” Harlan replied. 

“There’s still time.” you quipped back “and if he ever puts his hand on another omega, I’ll rip his dick off turn it into a toad and ram it down his throat.”

Harlan chuckled as you sauntered in one of your hands around Ransom’s throat as you pulled him alongside you, your broom in the other and you bag across your body.

You tossed him onto the rug in the fancy hall way.

“He’s bewitched isn’t he?” Harlan asked.

“Why didn’t you ask Zelda or Hilda for help?”

“I wasn’t sure, my grandson is many things, including an asshole, but his behaviour has been more out of control.”

“He’s always been a piece of shit.” Came a voice, you weren’t sure who’s.

“Can you help him?” Came another voice.

“I can.”

“How much witch?” came the voice of Ransom’s father, followed by money being thrown at you.

You huffed and shook your head, turning and leaving. You heard Harlan call someone an idiot as you flew away on your broom.

You were back three days later after Ransom had got handsy with you in the supermarket of all places. You’d left your groceries, grabbed him by his underwear and flown him back via his wedgey and your broom. You tossed him around the garden, blessed the fountain and chucked him in.

Harlan and his nurse had watched from the library window, highly amused, especially as you pulled him out, tapped his face lightly and whispered whatever it was that made the colour drain from his face. 

A week later, albeit still a bit of a dickhead, Ransom had very publicly apologised, paid for any medical bills and damages he’d caused. Much to the town’s amusement he’d also taken to following you around like a lost pup, lots of “I’m sorry” and with random expensive gifts in his hand. Your response was to spin him around and push him in the other direction with your powers. 

“I think he might be trying to court you.” Hilda had giggled.

“Well he can court himself.”

Sure he was attractive but he knew it and he was still a bit of a dickhead. But they was something familiar about his face and the blue of his eyes. 

Harlan had come again to ask for your appearance at Halloween and the white wolf side of you decided it was time to strike a deal.

The agreement was as follows

He was to keep Ransom out your way.

He was to pay you the agreed fee.

He was to pay Zelda and Hilda the same fee.

He went to speak and you could tell from his scent and expression he wasn’t initially going to agrue. 

You explained quickly and assertively that Ransom couldn’t be getting in your way if you were to be ‘working’ of sorts. If that’s what you called parlour tricks and being a token. You were to be paid the going rate and so were Hilda and Zelda as normal. You wouldn’t have a job or roof over your head if it wasn’t for them, and they’d talked you into it (or so you’d told Harlan). You  may have also caught sight of the shop accounts and how limited the rest of the year was income wise. They had an influx of pups and being out of sync because of a war wasn’t their fault. 

“It’s that or nothing” you’d told him firmly, “but you could always go to an agency but you could end up with one of Agatha’s strays.”

You turned and walked away head held high. Harlan had called after you.

“I’ll have the contracts sent over.”

And overall, being a token witch wasn’t that bad after all. Their friends and extended were also rich assholes but you could handle it. Your bank balance was better off, you were healthier with your better quality suppressants but not sleeping in your car was a hard habit to break and it was still often the easy option when hotels didn’t take roamers. 

Ransom had slipped the keys to a new car into your hand as you’d been packing your bags in their guest wing. You told him you couldn’t accept it but he simply closed your hand around the keys, looked at you you with sad eyes and walked away.

You’d attempted that evening to give them to Harlan but he’d explained that material things were their way of apology. He’d followed it by pushing an envelope towards you, after you’d pointed out he’d paid you already and he had nothing to apologise for. He’d told you it was an early Christmas gift. Somewhere to go at Christmas.

He’d never admit it but he’d shed a tear when you’d told him about your childhood. He’d pulled a picture from his office drawer, hidden between paperwork and looked at it fondly. 

“You were right Fi, she’s special. Nearly as special as you.”

The gift in the envelope was a ten days stay in a fancy as hell hotel. You weren’t going home for Christmas and you were completely fine with that.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn...........

It was too loud, everything was too loud. Cars, the subway, Mrs Jones at 32b, the list was endless.

Steve watched as Bucky stirred in the armchair again, his features screwing to a grimace and his surviving arm starting to twitch. Another nightmare. He looked down at the letter in his hand for what was probably the hundredth time.

“With no other surviving family members, you are the the sole and only beneficiary of the estate. Your uncle, Grant Rogers, thus leaves you his properties listed below. The primary being the Brookville farm.”

His attention was pulled to Bucky as he whimpered again in his sleep and he made his way towards him.

He didn’t noticed his phone light up with a message.

Natasha - You know………Clint grew up on a farm

[erenxfrieda]

Yandere! Viktor x reader x Yandere! Five

HEEEY! It’s the Hargreaves kids’ birthday today, and you know who else? I have!! hehe i just want to take the opportunity to let everyone know 😎 i was planning to write a whole bunch of posts in honor of this, but due to illness i will write 1 or 2 so…. happy birthday to Sparrow & Umbrella Academy, me and the rest of the lucky ones that wasn’t adopted by Reggie!🎉🎉

Let’s start from the beginning, okay?

Almost all of Viktor’s life is self-loathing and endless attempts to live like a “normal” person, but something goes wrong every time.

Leonard? Dead. Sissy? Dead. Harlan? Dead.

Seriously, this is some kind of cruel joke on this poor man. Didn’t he deserve to finally be able to love and be loved?

And it would seem that nothing could be worse.

But unfortunately it can always be worse.

Viktor meets someone in his life who makes his life happy again, as bright and filled with love as when he was with Sissy.

And it would seem, why is Viktor still unhappy? Why does Viktor feel good and bad when you are near him at the same time?

Why does Viktor feel like he’s a kid and stuck at the Academy with his dad again? Why does he feel like he has to be around Leonard again? And most importantly…why does he feel like he’s stuck in the situation with Sissy and her husband again?

And he hates it. Fucking hate this feeling. This frightens and annoys him, he wants to hide and run away, but at the same time he feels that he will explode.

Don’t get me wrong, Viktor doesn’t hate you, he just feels really bad about having a huge crush on… YOU. No, let me rephrase that, he have a huge crush on a person who already in relationship. In relationship with Five.

Fuck.

Once again, Viktor got stuck. One part of him says it’s okay, Viktor is a grown man, it’s okay when people fall in love and he can get over it.

The second part says that Viktor is disgusting, he shouldn’t feel this towards you. You are already in a relationship and you are happy. You are not Sissy. You don’t need to be saved. And besides that, Viktor shouldn’t take away anyone’s happiness, especially if it’s Five, his brother and the only person in the family who appreciated him.

Therefore, Viktor chooses the only correct path in his opinion. He will try to do everything himself, not talk about it with someone, like Allison or Luther, hell no, if Five finds out, then most likely you will find out! And Viktor doesn’t want that.

But how can Viktor stay so far away from a cutie like you? You are the clear sunshine in his life, his muse and inspiration, the only living person that keeps him going strong.

And Viktor would try to get rid of his feelings for you. But don’t expect him to distance himself or try to find someone else to replace you. In fact, I see this picture in his head, how he convinces himself that he is stronger than this and he will simply get over his crush on you like “that’s wrong, I really shouldn’t fall in love with them” but as soon as he sees you, his mind goes to “never mind. what was I talking about? oh, right, my love for them!”

And I just can’t help but see the picture of how Viktor literally radiates joy next to you.

Viktor can sit on the couch, listen and watch his family talk about something, and Viktor would remain quiet and calm, no one would notice that he was sitting with them all this time… until you just look in to the Hargreaves house and like “hey!” and Viktor would be like “omg! it’s them!!”

Viktor is literally puppy. Hold him closer, love him, hug him, pet him, give him everything and protect him!! how could you possibly say no to him when he have those pretty eyes??

And you know what? He takes advantage of this. Viktor may be one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, but he’s not as innocent as you think.

“Would you like to go shopping with me?” he asks, looking at you with his big puppy eyes.

You turn to him, smiling slightly and he smiles back at you. He always smiles when he’s around you, you think, but wasn’t he always like that?

Viktor always seemed to treat you like you were his family. He could share anything with you and you could share with him. You would understand him and always help, and he, in turn, trusted you with all his heart and you appreciated it, knowing how much it means to him.

“Of course,” you say, and run your hand gently over his shoulder as you walk past him. “Give me a minute.”

And he nods, obediently waiting for you until you return. He could wait for you for hours if that meant you would only spend time with him. With no one else, of course.

Viktor thought about you and about what his life could be, if everything was finally according to his desire. What if he met you before Sissy or Leonard? Could he be as happy now as before? Or would he fail again? Or maybe be happier?

“Where are you two going?”

Viktor flinches and his attention is fixed on Five. He was so lost in own thought that he barely noticed Five enter the room. Not that Five wasn’t a master of sudden appearances…

“Oh, uh, we-” Viktor starts and smiles nervously, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Just take a walk. Do you want to join us?” you appear behind Viktor.

Your hand gently rests on Viktor’s shoulder, as if trying to calm him down and relax, but despite the calming gesture, Viktor barely noticeably trembles under your touch.

Five narrows his eyes at this and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes on the two of you and Viktor noticed how much the former peaceful atmosphere had changed.

Viktor’s smile becomes more forced. He wants to keep this picture where everyone is happy and nothing is happening, but for some reason Viktor is sure that Five can see everything, he thought, and as soon as Viktor notices how your hands are still on him, he catches himself and moves away.

You look at Viktor in surprise, not understanding why he reacted like that, but you remain silent and instead glance at Five and then at Viktor.

Five glared at Viktor for a few more seconds before he nodded and gave you a small smile.

“I would love to, dear.”

Viktor sighs.

Things didn’t go as Viktor had planned.

He expected that this would be another reason to be alone, only he and you, but unfortunately, he should have known better, because he didn`t know that the situation would turn into a banal “third wheel”, where Viktor was the third wheel, while you and Five enjoyed each other’s company quite pleasantly.

Of course, you weren’t evil enough to forget about Viktor’s existence while you were with the Five, no. In fact, you paid enough attention to the two guys, the only “but” was that every time you touched Viktor the slightest, whispered something in his ear and laughed quietly, probably saying some stupid joke, Viktor could feel how Five staring at him.

You preferred to be blind, or did you really not notice how tense Viktor was every time with you, especially under the strict supervision of Five. You didn’t quite get it, given how close the two had been since childhood.

But did it ruin your time? No. Viktor and Five? It is hard to say.

You were constantly pulling either Viktor or Five by the sleeve, pointing to different store windows or any object that caught your attention, saying something like “ah, look over there, Viktor!” or “let’s buy this thing Five, please?” to which 7 would nod and laugh softly with you in response, and 5 would grumble at how childishly you would behave.

“Damn, wait for me a bit. I seem to have forgotten something.” you stop abruptly and turn around, quickly apologizing until you leave in a hurry.

Viktor turns around and looks at your figure, mouth open to ask if you need help, but he trails off, deciding to stay in awkward company with his brother.

In the past, the two got along very well, enjoying the peaceful silence and Viktor would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

“I see how you look at them.” Five starts.

“Huh?” Viktor’s eyes widen at his words, after which he visibly stiffens. “What are you talking about, Five?”

Five tilts his head slightly, smiling, his back pressed against the wall.

Viktor awkwardly rubbed his palms and looked away, as if a boy who was being scolded by his father, and he blushed, going through the possible options for words.

“Listen, Five, they are very nice and sweet, but we are just friends and…” Viktor defends himself.

“Please, don’t lie to me,” Five speaks calmly and patiently. “Tell me the truth. We are family after all.”

Viktor sighs and looks around to make sure you’re nowhere near, after which he leans against the wall next to Five, rubbing his temples.

“And what if you right? Yes, I, uh…I kinda like them and I know that they already in relationship with you,” Viktor is actively gesticulating, looking down, nervous. “Don’t think I’m trying to steal them from you, god no, I mean, you’re probably mad at me but I would never do this to you Five.”

Five patiently listens to him and replies after a moment. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Wait, your not?” he blinks few times as he looks at Five.

Five nods and Viktor smiles at the gesture, visibly relaxing.

“You are still young and young man like you tend to be like that.” Five pats Viktor on the shoulder and he looks away, smiling slightly. “But next time, think twice before taking my partner on a date behind my back.”

Viktor nods weakly, choosing to remain silent instead.

Five notices your figure in the distance and he waves lightly at you to get your attention. You smile brightly at the two men and quickly run up to them, out of breath.

“Sorry, I’m a little late. Are you two all right?” you said, worried.

“Of course, everything is just wonderful.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 40

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Numb. All your life, you strived for that state. To not feel a thing. It only took the sacrifice of your independence and body to achieve it.

Your mind is spent, you just can’t care about anything. Not the man suddenly missing, not the baby attached to your tit, and certainly not that dull tugging in your pelvis. 

“Dear, are you hungry?” Dottie asks as she appears in the doorway, “little thing must be takin’ it out of ya.”

You grumble. Your stomach clutches but your appetite is almost nonexistent. Everytime you see yourself, everytime you get a glance at your body, you can’t help but cringe. No wonder he’s gone. You were no prize before and now he’s ruined any semblance of attraction.

“You have to eat,” she chides, “‘specially if you’re gonna keep this one well fed.”

She comes to you as you finish feeding. You look down at the baby. You’re still waiting for the light switch to flip on. That magical moment everyone mythologises when you’ll feel that motherly yearning. When all common sense is wiped up by the primal instincts of maternity. You got nothing. 

The baby gets no reaction from you. Not disgust, not fear, not love, or joy or anything else they say you should feel.

You hand her over to Dottie. She burps the child and lays her in the rolling bassinet nearby. You lean against the pillows and stare at the room. You refused to stay in the one you shared with Lloyd, instead you took one of the guest beds.

If he ever shows up, you doubt he’ll want anything from you. You can’t offer him anything. The doctor says at least six weeks. If it’s up to you, never.

Dottie leaves you. She tries to get you to do more than grumble and sleep but there’s nothing else you can do. She is Marion’s mother. She hasn’t said a damn thing about him running off and you haven’t seen Harlan since the delivery room. You can’t tell if the are ashamed about their son or merely stuck in an awkward situation.

You close your eyes. This is what you knew would happen. This is what you yelled at Lloyd. And as always, you’re right and he doesn’t fucking listen. For as unpredictable as you believed he was before, you see through him more and more. You know who and what he is.

For a moment, you miss the life you had before. The one you thought was a prison but now you see was freedom. Working nights, coming home, sleeping on your own hours, eating on your own clock, coming and going wherever you liked, even if it wasn’t often. If you could go back, you would. 

You would pretend like Colin loved you and just forget about Ally. At least he kept the act up. Your eyes burn and you wiggle your nose.

You will not cry. You are numb. You don’t feel. You don’t want to feel. You don’t even want to be.

💎

“A walk will be nice, dear,” Dottie says as she lays the baby in the stroller.

You sit on the bench near the door. You feel weak and worn. It’s only been two weeks. You have a lifetime left of this. You won’t survive it.

Dottie can’t stay forever. If you were her age, you’d already be off enjoying your retirement. When you are her age, you’ll still be stuck here.

Unless… he decides to throw you out. The kid will be grown by then. You’ll be old and ragged and useless. With any luck, you won’t find out one way or the other.

“The doctor says a slow walk is good. Keeping active will help you recover.”

You nod. You don’t argue. In a way, you are humiliated by her constant doting. More like pestering. She knows you can’t do this alone, just like you do. She does a good job of hiding her anger. If you were her, you’d be livid at your son for pulling this shit.

“Right, well, let’s get going,” she chirps as she opens the door and wheels the stroller through.

You don’t move as she rolls it down to even ground and she kicks the brakes down on the wheels. She comes back in and offers to help you up. You slide to the edge of the bench and grunt as you stand on your own.

You feel her gaze on you and you refuse to meet it. There’s something unsaid. Staying active. You have a lot of weight to take off. Yeah, you know.

You follow her slowly across the entry way and come out into the sunlight. You lean on the railing as you descend after her down the few steps. You keep your head down, shoulders slump, and keep your hand from meeting your stomach out of habit.

She flips the brakes up and she slowly sets off. You do your best to keep up, watching the toes of your speaker. The sun beats down hotly. Summer still blazes hotly. The loose hoodie you wear fills with heat and has you sweating.

She goes through the gate and turns onto the sidewalk. You lean against a pole to catch your breath. She stops patiently, cooing at the baby as you push yourself away. You apologise and press on. It is easier to be outside. It doesn’t feel so stagnant.

Dottie comments on the houses you pass, the pretty flowers, and the trimmed hedges. She likes the neighbourhood. To you, it looks like a circle of hell. You turn back at the end of the street and head back to the house. You’re drained entirely.

“Any ideas for lunch?” Dottie asks.

“Not hungry,” you answer.

“Aw, well, you do have to eat, just like Luna,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” you utter.

You’re startled as your name comes from behind you. Before you can reach the gate, you pause and face the speaker. Andy jogs towards you and stops before the stroller as Dottie turns it with her.

“Uh, hey, I saw you passing by,” he smiles and gives a nervous look at the other woman, “I haven’t seen you around, I just wanted to say hi. I… I didn’t know the baby was here already.”

You stare at him. You see the doubt in his cheek, a small twitch. You can’t just let him see how defeated you are.

“Two weeks,” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice light, “she’s doing well.”

That’s the thing you noticed. Now that the baby is born, people don’t ask how you are. Not until they ask about the baby.

“Wow,” he says, “um, I’m Andy,” he says to Dottie, “I live next door.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she steps around the stroller to shake his hand, “I’m Dottie, the grandmother.”

He looks between you and the older woman. You squint. He doesn’t think…

“Oh, she’s not mine, the daddy is,” Dottie chuckles, “still, she’s a good daughter. Couldn’t be luckier.”

“Mind if I…” he points to the carriage.

“Go on, she’s a cute thing,” Dottie allows, “name’s Luna. Like Moonlight.”

He nears and hunches to see into the stroller. He aws and wiggles his finger at the baby. You watch him. He smiles at the child so easily. Every time you look at her, you just want to cry.

“Great, er, so just wanted to put it out there, if you need anything I’d be happy to help out,” he offers as he retreats to stand across from you, “you know, I’ve done it all before. I probably have some toys and stuff still hanging around.”

“You got kids?” Dottie asks.

“I had one,” Andy’s veneer falls just a little, “he had an accident.”

“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t imagine,” she preens, “you are so kind. I’m sure we could use some company in that big house.”

“Lloyd will be okay with that?”

“He’s away on business,” she dismisses quickly and your muscles tense as you try to conceal your chagrin.

“That’s too bad. How about I come over and make some dinner? Tonight? Tomorrow? Give you two some time to relax.”

“Ah, wow, you are gallant, ain’t ya?” Dottie says, “how about tonight? The weather’s supposed to be fine, we can eat outside.”

“Works for me,” Andy announces triumphantly, “I’ll be over at five, does that work?”

“Sure thing,” Dottie affirms, “now, we should get the little one down, she’s starting to fuss.”

“Of course,” Andy grins and your eyes meet his. You try but can’t muster a smile. “See ya then.”

You nod as Dottie returns the sentiment. You turn and continue towards the gate. 

“What a nice man,” she says, “beautiful eyes… oddly familiar, don’t ya think?”

“I guess,” you mutter as you drag your feet. 

You really wish she hadn’t accepted the invite. You just want to be alone, or as alone as you can be with a child attached to you.

[maaarijaaa]

You Belong To Me ❀ Part Six

Ransom Drysdale x Wife!reader

Summary: Ransom Drysdale grew up in a dysfunctional family full of heartless people. The only family member who understood and supported him was his grandfather, Harlan. He never knew how it feels to be loved, until he met you. 

Disclaimer: I do not allow for my work to be posted somewhere else or translated. English is not my first language so let me know if I made any mistakes. 

A/N: Hey everyone, I have not posted anything from this story since Match because I have been focused on other stories but here we are. We are almost hitting 300 followers🫶🏻

Words count: 1k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Part Five<

Today was your doctor's appointment.

Ransom was nervous to say at least. He said that he did not care about the gender and that he was happy as long as the baby was healthy, but deep down you knew he wanted a boy.

That was one of the first things he told you about when you decided to start trying for a baby, but he also told you that he would be happy if the baby turned out to be a girl.

The baby is not even born, yet Ransom decided to buy matching sweaters. You did not know how but he found the exact copy of his favorite sweater for the baby. Your due date was during the summertime and Boston can get really hot, but yet again, Ransom did not care.

On the other hand you were excited. Even after everything that happened with your and Ransom's parents, your baby was your number one priority. You still refused to talk to your parents. You did not open their letters or answered their phone calls.

Driving to the clinic was awkward. Ransom told you about the idea for the new book. He even told you about writing a book about the baby. That made you fall in love with him even more.

You got out of the car and made your way to the doctors office, hand in hand.

You did not wait long before the doctor called your name.

“Okay let’s see what do we have here. Do you guys have any guesses?” the doctor asked.

“As long as the baby is healthy, we are happy.” Ransom said.

You looked at each other before the doctor spoke again.

“Here is your baby!” Doctor said as he pointed on the screen. There was your little bundle of joy.

“And you are having a…”

Doctor looks closely at the screen before speaking again.

“A little boy!”

Ransom let go off your hand and began jumping out of joy. He was going to have a son.

The doctor printed some pictures and left the room so you and Ransom could talk.

“We are having a boy! A little boy!” Ransom said as tears began to form into his eyes.

“A mini Ransom!” you said as you held your husband’s hand.

“I hope they look much like you actually.” Ransom said.

After talking for a few minutes the doctor came back in and told you that the baby is healthy and told you to make sure to take your daily vitamins.

After leaving the doctors office, Ransom drove straight to the baby shop. That little boy is not even born yet, and he still has a huge closet full of baby clothes, and matching sweaters of course.

As you walked around for a bit, you stopped when you saw that something was off with Ransom.

“Is everything alright baby?”

“Yea it’s nothing”

“Ransom I can see in your face that something is off.”

“Do you think I am capable of being a father?”

“Why are you even asking me that?”

“I grew up in a family full of idiots, and I never knew what a true family is like. I did not have a really good father figure nor a mother that really was there for me. I just don’t want our little boy to go through that.”

You almost began crying. He was scared of hurting his little boy.

“Ransom, you are going to be the best father our son could ask for. How do I know? Well you are constantly worrying about him which shows that you care for him. We are in this together and I am going to help you if you ever think like that, okay?

“Okay” “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Well you have told me 50 times since this morning, which is 50 less than usual!”

You both stood there laughing

“I love you”

“I love you too Ransom”

Tag list: @marvelwasmadeforthebis @ellerosie2332 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charmingprincess

[acorrespondence]

Writing Pattern Game

Thanks for the tag @raylangivins ♥️

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns! (from most recent to least recent, starting from the top)

I only have two published works but I thought it might be interesting to see if there are any patterns in how I start a chapter! Every single chapter I’ve posted still only adds up to nine, haha, so it still fits!

i put this heavy heart in you: Miami (Part 1)— It’s hot as hell on the Miami rooftop where Raylan shoots Tommy Bucks, and with the sun in his eyes and the long stretch of water spread out before him, Raylan could almost believe he’s still in Nicaragua.

i put this heavy heart in you: Miami (Part 2) — Boyd plans, because he always plans, tries to get ahead of everything and coax it around in their favor.

i put this heavy heart in you: (The Road) — Fifteen minutes in, Raylan yanks on the wheel and pulls the van over.

i put this heavy heart in you: (The Motel Part 1) — Boyd’s elbow comes down hard on the soap ledge, with a crack fit to set the whole tub to juddering.

i put this heavy heart in you: (California) — Raylan’s phone rings at 12:38 on Lissy’s birthday, while he’s making lunch over the little hot plate on top of the fridge.

i put this heavy heart in you: (Harlan Part 1) — By the time Art comes around to check on them, Rachel and Raylan have been sitting crammed into a surveillance van masquerading as a carpet cleaning business for three days straight.

i put this heavy heart in you: (The Motel Part 2) — “Raylan,” Boyd mumbles from somewhere in the vicinity of his armpit. “Raylan, the door.”

catching bullets in our teeth: (Chapter 1) — The first time it happens, they’re in the mine, sent down beneath the hills to pull Harlan’s black teeth.

catching bullets in our teeth: (Chapter 2) — Boyd’s triumphant return is marred by the fact that the fighting’s already started.

I guess the pattern here is that my opening sentences tend to be fairly short, matter-of-fact statements. A lot of them include orienting details like a specific location, date, time, or a quick summary of recent events. I don’t have much patience for exposition, so I try to get the essential pieces of information into that first sentence to move things along. The exceptions are Miami Part 2 and The Motel Part 2, the first of which is a character note and the second of which is some dialogue, in an attempt to give the moment a sense of urgency that the others don’t have.

I’m going to keep my tagging bare bones because I’m trying to catch up on these, so if I missed you and you want to give this a try, just imagine your handle in the following list: @esteefee @bringmefoxgloves @tallsinspace @norgbelulah @toli-a @willowmckinley @skelingtonsderek

[nosolaceofastraightanswer]

BIRTHDAY TUAMRE ALGAMATION POST!!!!! aug 6 birthday bitches rise UP. it’s my biiiiiiirrrttthdaaaaaayyy :D sorry i know it’s basically over but i’m hype

in other news, harlan and stan <3 the boys

i think they could’ve made reggie a much more compelling character and actually given klaus an arc if he wasn’t like secretly a dick the whole time.

i really don’t think this whole plot thing added anything major to klaus’s character except for like. more trauma.

idk klaus girlies do you guys have thoughts on this??

it would be more interesting to see a reginald who is actually nice to him, even if it’s for a weird reason

reginald’s alien psychology is something i’m obsessed with. make him weirder actually

idk i’m staying tuned !!

stanley is so cute istg. he just wants to spend time with diego, even if he’s playing the part he generally still wants diego to care about him. poor baby :((((

harlan!!!!!!!!!! yay :) he’s here and he’s ready to fucking murder some people

rip the sparrows 😭😭

[you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be]

Making a post bc I am still every other week or so seeing posts from new fans talking about how John/Arthur better be canon bc they’ll be mad otherwise or asking if it is or SAYING it is and I need other people to spread this around and actually listen to me.

Harlan has said they won’t end up romantically together. No look at me. Canonically they won’t. He loves the fics and stuff and finds it enjoyable, but they aren’t going to be canon.

That means that you have GOT to stop trying to get new fans in by saying how gay it is. That might work in 2010 when bury your gays was the most you could ask for but there’s actual rep now, if you tell someone something is gay they’re going to be expecting to SEE it at some point.

You are putting Harlan, who makes the entire show by himself and does not have anything vetted, does not have a pr team, and is active in the fandom, in danger. People are already calling it queerbait and gaslighting. You are disappointing and pissing off people who want to see venom/Eddie and aren’t going to get it.

Saying you love someone and showing them life experiences they haven’t had isn’t inherently romantic, especially if one of you is new to the being human thing, it’s the 1930s so the entire masculinity romance landscape is entirely different, and you share a body and couldn’t leave if you wanted. It’s not homophobic to manage expectations.

Queerbaiting is when a show is promised to be queer to bring in the queer audience and then they don’t. He’s specifically said it isn’t. YOU are queerbaiting people. I can not continue to every other week see an excited fresh faced person say they got into the show bc they heard it’s a queer podcast or has gay rep when it’s blatantly untrue. I can’t see more see it’s canon friends would never do this together. It’s fun to play with and I love it, it’s a fun ship, but you have to stop telling people it’s real and the only option.

[nrc-broadcasting]

i dont know if you're answering asks right now, but yeah haha, happy holidays and merry christmas if you celebrate it!

note: sorry for the horrendously long ask

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜♡〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

Good day, Prefect, I've been thinking of sending a message for a while now, and I've finally gathered up the courage to do so. I'm a second-year student from Heartslabyul, and I'd like some help with some things. You see, there are these two cat twins from Pomefiore; they're first-years, and they're known to stir up mischief and cause havoc everywhere they go, and most people aren't exactly fond of them because of that. The thing is, I'm in a polyamorous relationship with the mentioned twins, and when word of that started to spread, people started to discourage me from continuing my relationship with them, telling me that I shouldn't associate myself with such delinquents. But the thing is, despite being mischievous and chaotic, they're actually quite sweet and know when to stop with their antics; they're also very caring at times too. But most people aren't aware of this side of them since they only ever show it to me. Now, Prefect, if it doesn't bother you too much, may I ask, how do I convince people that they aren't all bad? And what should I do if they continue to tell me to end our relationship solely due to their reputation? I thank you in advance.

~ Harlan

Been Under Scrutiny

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Ah yes, I thought this would be perfect for February, so here we are. Is Harlan talking about the Pomefiore Siameses by any chance? I vaguely remember seeing a post about those OCs but I can’t seem to find it again so sorry if this took a while.

Here they are again, sitting on a comfortable leather chair(courtesy of Professor Crewel), a mic placed onto the studio’s mahogany table. A platter of snacks placed to their far right, beside a stack of canned tuna and a sleeping Grim.

Their school issued laptop with a tab already open to read messages from listeners and their simple phone case facing side up.

Stretching their arms and cracking their back to get their blood flowing, they finally turn on the mic with a muffled yawn.

“Once again,” Yuu fixes their tie even if they can’t be seen.

“Good morning Twisted Wonderland! We’re finally back after… sh-t I can’t remember—” They turn away and whisper in realization.

“—a long time!” They turn back, a strange look on their face.

“Today’s ask is… quite lengthy. But so are most of them these days.” They playfully roll their eyes.

“Hmm.” Tentative eyes skim the message, soaking up the information like a sponge.

“Pomefiore cat twins…” They give a thoughtful hum.

They strum the mahogany table with their nails for a few moments, racking their brain for memories of said twins.

“Cat twins in Pomefiore… might you mean Akanda and Akenya Siam?” They trace their bottom lip with their index finger in contemplation.

An…unfortunate encounter with another set of twins’ prank crosses their mind.

“Ah. Probably not.” They grimaced at the memory.

“Perhaps…Siddell and Amani? Sorry, I don’t know their last names.” Yuu smiled sheepishly.

“Yes, they might be who you’re referring to. I might not have the best first impression of them, but it’s good to see them treat you as you deserve.”

“Anyways, back to the topic at hand,” Yuu pulls their school issued laptop closer to them.

“Let me provide a little summary of your situation,” Their eyes travel back to the message.

“You, Harlan, are in a polymerous relationship with the Pomefiore cat twins. They are known delinquents, which makes people around you to discourage your relationship, and this led to the twins attempting to shield you from that scrutiny by asking you to leave them,” They twist the ring around their finger, eyes still on the message.

“Huh, they seem a fair amount protective.” They remark.

“So from what I’ve gathered, the main question here is how do you defend both your relationship and partner— sorry, partners, from people who want 1950’s sh-t from you.” They softly click their tongue.

“I understand the need to defend you from others, but why do they seem so willingly to give your relationship up? As delinquents, one would expect them to not give a damn about what other people think and fight for what they think is right.”

“So where did that come from?” They ask.

“Yes, it might be to protect you, but at the cost of your relationship?” Yuu raised an eyebrow.

“That hardly seems like a fair trade.” They narrow their eyes.

“I think you should deal with your partners’ pleads first. As for what to say when you do,” They breathe, sincerely hoping this doesn’t sound wrong or out-of-pocket.

“Just say no. You know they’re asking you because they feel bad and think they don’t deserve you, so tell them it’s just self sabotage and encourage them to fight for your relationship than giving up on it.”

“Taking the easy way out is never good, so fight for it, even if it makes your knuckles bruise like violets.” They shrug.

“Then, defending and/or proving your relationship to other people will be easier as you now have them help you to maintain the relationship rather than giving in to other people’s opinions and pushing your break-up.”

“As for proving the relationship, the only thing I can really suggest as someone who’s been single since birth:,) is crank up the PDA and encourage them to show their sweet side. Since you’re already together, I don’t see any reason for embarrassment.”

“If they make you feel comfortable, if they make you feel loved, if you want to stay with them, then stay! You’ll be damned if you give a damn what people.” They say.

“If you long for those melancholic moments, staring the at ceiling with them when they never say too much. When they don’t have to read into your melancholia…”

“Then stay in their lavender haze.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Our fairytale has come to an end.