#i haven’t watched it in years but I HAD to see Donna return oh my god I love her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

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

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

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

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

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

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

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

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

March: the arrival,

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

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

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He crossed his arms over his chest.

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

“Are you only with me for sex?”

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

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

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

“No, I’m putting my foot down.”

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

“Too,” he repeated firmly. “Too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is exactly what I want to hear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

“May I ask what for?”

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

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

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

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

“Ransom!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He abruptly threw you up over his shoulder.

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

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

“You’re such an ass! I have to—”

He silenced you by pulling off his T-shirt.

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

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

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

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

“You are not serious.”

“I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. “You have money?”

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

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

He sighed. “Y/N, suck my cock.”

You shrugged. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right, I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

“I’m not joking.”

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

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

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

He smirked. “I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ride me,” he ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Say what?” you choked out.

“You know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” he said softly.

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

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

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

He shrugged his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “I promise, I will not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

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

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

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

“He’s in the kitchen,” Joni informed.

“Great, we can head that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lifted your eyebrows at Ransom.

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

You turned to her. “Are you—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meg, can we have a minute?”

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

“Um,” she started, shifting awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey—”

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

“She’s my mom—”

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

“That’s not why I had sex with you—”

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

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

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

“I didn’t lie—”

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

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go to the store.”

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

“Can we talk about this later?”

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

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

April: the parents’ bedroom,

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

Not the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Ransom?”

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

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

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

“Just a headache. Not a big deal.”

“Not trying to be an ass—”

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

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want to talk much either.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

“Yes, great cover. So convincing.”

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

You lifted your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

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

“You made me sleep without you—!”

“That was not what you think!”

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

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

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

He rolled his eyes. “Doubt that.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell?” you demanded.

“This fight is over.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

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

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

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

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“You went behind my back, Ransom.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

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

“This is your fucking home!”

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

“She apologized!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed.

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

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

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

He threw his arms up. “For what?!”

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

“She would have known that I told you.”

“And?!”

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

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

“No, you’re not!”

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

“You love me!”

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

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

“You are tearing them, you ass!”

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

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered.

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

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

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

“I changed the sheets this morning.”

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

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

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

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“None of your business.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

You blinked once, twice. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “Eww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

He pushed his third finger as slowly as he could.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yourself,” he told you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think you deserve it, baby?”

“Please make me come,” you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May: the anniversary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Ransom.”

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

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

“Right?”

“You talking about your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom,” you warned.

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

“Maybe she did.”

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

“She’s not blackmailing him.”

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

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

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

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

“What? Were you expecting something else?”

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

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

“No, it wouldn’t,” you argued.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am,” you declared.

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

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

“So, you’re saying I seduced you?”

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

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

“A bit,” you admitted.

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

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

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

June: the affair,

Until June rolled around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell happened?” Ransom demanded.

You glared at him. “Where were you?”

“I was out for a walk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August: the book,

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

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

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

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

Did he ever love you?

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

Did you let this happen?

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

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

What did that mean?

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

Nothing. Everything was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

“What? What do you need?”

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Are you out of your mind?!”

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

“I’m not cheating on you!”

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

He paused at that.

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

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

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

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

“You are crazy,” he asserted.

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

You dove forward, just inches from the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let it go!” you shrieked.

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

“Not anymore, cheater!”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you!”

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

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

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

“Because I hate my family,” he reminded.

“And clearly, you hate me!”

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

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

“I’m not cheating!”

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

“I am not cheating!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“I’m writing a book!” he hissed.

You froze. He was what?

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

“Get off me.”

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

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

A book?

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

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

You held the laptop out to him.

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

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

“I have to go get Jacob’s cake.”

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

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

October: Ransom’s birthday,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

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

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

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

“I know…I was going to.”

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

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

“Others? What are you talking about?”

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

“Okay…what’s the series about?”

“A woman.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“God, Ransom, I was really hurt.”

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

“Well, can I read some of it?”

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

“I saw dating apps, Ransom.”

“After we talked about my parents—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re getting closer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your cheek to prevent a smile.

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

You hummed.

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

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

“He loves her skin,” he asserted.

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

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

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

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

“You wrote that?” you breathed.

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

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

“Well, mine have sex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed. “But she kills him?”

“Well, she’s a complex woman.”

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

He arched an eyebrow.

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

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

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

“Does she love him?” you wondered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “He thinks so.”

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

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

“But does he?” you pressed.

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

“Are you fucking serious!?”

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

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

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

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

November: thanksgiving,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glared.

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

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

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

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

“I have a charity picked,” Jacob informed.

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

“Can’t I pick my own?” he pressed.

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

“Yeah,” Walt echoed. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“And we’re back,” Richard muttered.

Donna’s head snapped in his direction.

“Okay,” you interjected. “Joni?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, mine is—”

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

“Linda, please,” Richard sighed.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shut up!” Linda barked.

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

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

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

Linda’s mouth dropped.

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

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

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

You smiled at Ransom. “You are perfect.”

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

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

You glanced at Ransom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You asked if it was a good idea.”

“I think it is.”

“Then why did you ask me at all?”

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

“We are not getting Jacob a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate dogs.”

“Well, I hate you,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three? For what?”

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

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

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

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

“That is normal flour, Ransom.”

“No,” he argued. “No, it’s not.”

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

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

“You could have ordered them!”

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

“Ransom, make the pie crusts!”

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

“What does toss mean?”

“What?”

“It says to toss the ingredients.”

“Um, like, stir, I guess.”

“You guess or you know?”

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

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

You turned back, eyes wide. “Ransom!”

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

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

“I don’t like touching butter!”

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

“I’m not touching it,” he claimed.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to cut them?”

“And peel them.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“Ransom, I’m about to smack you.”

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

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

“And you’re going to cook alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not!”

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

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

“You’re ruining it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, just stay down,” Jacob said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stole my house!” she screeched.

“Linda!” Richard scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He held his hand up to you. “Don’t.”

“But—”

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

“I…threw a cookie at her.”

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

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

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

“What did we gain, Ransom?”

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

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else?”

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

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

“That was exactly what I was thinking.”

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

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

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

“Is everyone okay?”

“They’ll live.”

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

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

“We kinda ruined Thanksgiving dinner.”

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

“All three?”

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

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

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

You laughed. “Your family is insane.”

“And clearly, you fit right in.”

“Clearly,” you muttered. Unfortunately.

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

“Are your fucking hands broken?!”

“I’m holding the box!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t want them here!”

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

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

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

He glared. “I hate you.”

“I hate you!” you seethed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are such a fucking brat.”

“You’re a brat!” you yelled, more exasperated than you’d ever felt. “You’re such a fucking entitled brat! There’s no other way to describe you. You just think I’m going to say yes and give you everything you want when you can’t even say you love me!”

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

“Just fucking say it, Ransom! If you love me, just say it!”

“You will not bully me into saying something that I don’t even deem as important.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Love is a word! Okay? It means nothing. My parents fucking say they love each other, then my dad fucked someone else. Neal and Joni said they loved each other every god damn second that they could but guess what. He still died. And don’t even get me started on Walt and Donna, their “love” created the next great serial killer of this wonderful fucking country!”

You were speechless, Ransom never talked to you like this. He never brought up the fucked-up aspects of his family that had consequently fucked him up as well.

He finally let you go when he realized you weren’t going to say anything, turning to walk away. You startled when he banged his hand against the wall. “God damn it!”

“Why do you make me say it to you then?” you demanded.

“I don’t know!” he admitted.

Again, you were both silent. You were thinking of the best way to respond, and you certainly couldn’t come up with that, but you knew what you wanted to say. “I’m not marrying you.”

He laughed.

It was a terrifying sound that gave you chills. He was going to kill you, you were 90% sure. As soon as he started walking toward you, you turned away to run to the bathroom, but Ransom had always known that would be your plan.

He effortlessly caught you and dragged you back to the bed. He shoved you down, pinned your arms to the mattress to stop you from hitting him, and slid his hips between your legs to make it impossible to kick him. “You’re going to marry me.”

“You’re going to force me to marry you?”

“I’ll drag you to the fucking courthouse if I have to.”

“The courthouse?!”

“I want to give you a wedding, the obscenely priced, overly dramatic show that I know you want. But if you won’t say yes, you leave me no other option.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do because my answer is no.”

Luckily for him, your outfit was not overly complex. He knew you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt because his hand was between your legs for most of dinner that night. You didn’t let him make you come because you were throwing a temper tantrum over the situation with the presents, but he was evidently not deterred.

After he moved your wrists together and kept you held there, he used his free hand to get his pants out of the way. In seconds, he was fully inside you and was offering you no time to adjust.

You realized why when you felt his hands moving over your head. Turning up that way, you saw him fumbling with the box. He was going to put the ring on your finger, and you had the sinking suspicion you might not be able to part with it if you saw it. But no, this was not happening.

You managed to get one of your hands free and yanked on his hair.

He kissed you because he had nothing left to do but bite your lip. Hard. He didn’t even falter when you cried out.

He was the idiot who let you keep your shoes on and you were limited on where you could get your heel. You did yoga, but you weren’t some contortionist. You had one option, and that was stabbing your heel into the side of his ass, and it was completely his own fault.

Finally, he pulled away and was forced to let you on top, which was the only advantage you needed. You smacked the box off the bed. However, now that he wasn’t overly concerned with holding you to the bed, he could pull your hair until you relented and fell back onto the bed.

He rolled over several times until you were both on the very edge, managing to kick your heels off in the process. He never stopped driving his hips into you, knowing that the only advantage he had was how weak you always got for his cock.

You could hear him reaching around blindly on the floor but with each brush of his skin against your clit, you got less scared about the idea that he would get the ring on you. You knew you didn’t want it. You knew you didn’t want to marry him and there was no way in hell you would willingly say yes, but fuck, you wanted to come.

You touched the side of his face and he finally looked back at you.

“Say yes.”

“Fuck you.” You pulled him down, your lips meeting his. There was blood in the kiss and your lip was throbbing, but you couldn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this violently, this angrily. He’d never fucked you like this before. You were no stranger to Ransom being a cruel lover, but there had never been so much pure wrath.

He had located the box, you could tell when his fingernails stopped clicking against the hardwood floor. You were panicking, not fully thinking through your plans, you just knew you needed to be able to reach the box. You threw all your weight at him and he was barely balanced as it was.

Despite his anger, he still had more of a mind than you—probably because he wanted something out of this, he needed to be mindful to get his way. He basically let you throw him on the floor because he worried about the results if he managed to fall on you.

Instead of retaliating any further, you grabbed his hand and brought it down to your center. He needed no further prompt than that, his thumb began to circle your clit as his other hand grabbed your hip and moved you along the length of his cock.

Where was the box? On his chest, he set this there because he was the cockiest fucking asshole in the world. He saw you eyeing it and smirked. “Go ahead, baby, take it, but you know I’ll fucking stop.”

That was unimaginable. Both hands reached for the one he had on your hip. You continued rolling your hips like it was the last time you were ever going to get to, dragging his hand up to your mouth.

“I swear if you fucking bite me,” he warned.

No, you weren’t going to do that. Yet. You choked yourself on his fingers, stifling all the pathetic sounds that were spilling out from you. Ransom simply enjoyed the show, enjoyed you fucking yourself on his cock, enjoyed you staring at him with those smoky, delicate eyes as you sucked on his fingers.

He stopped touching your clit once he felt you coming. He used that hand to hold you up on your knees and thrust his hips into you punishingly. You were dizzy, disastrously satiated and overstimulated. He finished with a shaking moan, a tell that he was trying to be quiet.

It wasn’t late, the family was undoubtedly aware of what was going on.

He turned down, staring at the place you were still connected. Ransom waited until his cum was spilling out of you and then yanked you back down to take his entire length. If there was anything that Ransom did love in this world it was filling you with his cum and watching it slowly pour out.

You only allowed him to do this several times before you finally bit down on his fingers. His hand lifted from your hip and tore your hair back hard enough that you opened your mouth to yell at him. When he could pull his fingers from your mouth, he wrapped that hand around your neck and pulled you flat down, your chest to his, the ring box trapped between you and him, digging painfully into your ribs.

He slammed you into the wall and you brought your legs up to hook around his waist. “Sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to bite you.”

“After I get this ring on you, I’m gonna make you call your parents and tell them we’re engaged. And I’m gonna fuck you and make you call me daddy, just to remind your father how much of a daddy’s girl you used to be.”

“Why call when you could Facetime?”

“Then I’m gonna have you choking on my cock, baby, all they need to see is the ring on your finger.” The hand in your hair wedged its way between you and him and he located your clit once more.

It was too much but you knew Ransom wasn’t going to care. Begging him to stop would just provide him enjoyment and that was the last thing you wanted him to have. He kept his other hand around your neck because he knew you would say something that would annoy the fuck out of him if he let you.

When you were coming, his hips were moving once more and his hand abandoned your clit to move the box. You felt it sliding along your skin until it was gone and then you realized he wasn’t holding your neck anymore. He had your left hand held clutched in his and you felt the cold band he was sliding onto your finger.

You couldn’t do much, you had lost and you knew it. But you could leave a few more marks on him, so you latched your free hand onto his shoulder and dragged your nails down his back, and you bit down on his shoulder harder than you probably should have. He was a fucking animal, it seemed like he didn’t care at all. He just wanted to get the ring on you, and once he had, he grabbed your face and shoved you back.

You knew he was trying to get you to look at the ring, but you refused. Your eyes were slammed shut and nothing was going to change that.

He walked you to the bathroom, pulling out to bend you over the counter because he knew you would instinctually lift both hands up to the edge. Once you had, he shoved his cock back inside you and grabbed your jaw to angle your face in the direction of your left hand. “Look at it.”

“Fuck. You!” you growled.

He smacked your ass and even though you shrieked like he was murdering you, you did not open your eyes. He repeated this several times until his own hand was stinging almost unbearably. New plan.

He used his feet to kick your legs apart further and you felt a sharp, sudden slap against your cunt. Your eyes snapped open and a scream tore from your throat. He almost felt bad until he saw your attention on the ring. Was he an ass? Yes. But had he won? Also, yes.

That fucking asshole. His hand dropped to rub over your aching pussy, cock still moving at a painfully fast pace. Ransom was fucking furious and the only way he could take it out on you was by fucking you this way.

You couldn’t say you had any complaints about it. Tomorrow, when you were pretending you couldn’t stand to look at him, you would be bruised and sore everywhere that he had touched you. You would be wet all day thinking about how it happened.

The fucking ring. A huge cushion-cut diamond set in a halo on top of a diamond-encrusted band. It wasn’t simple, it sounded like it, but there was something so beautiful about it. Fuck, you wouldn’t let this ring go unless you were dead. Because he was right. You liked money and diamonds and you were materialistic, and this was from Ransom and you loved everything he gave you. And at the end of it all, even though you were saying no to him, he shoved that ring onto your finger because you were his and that was never going to change.

“Say yes.”

“No.”

“Fine.” He reached for your hand but stopped when he saw you make a fist.

“Try to take this ring from me and I will fucking kill you, Ransom.”

He scoffed. “Great, I’m gonna get my phone to Facetime your parents.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Not yet,” he pointed out. “First, I need to fuck your mouth, but then—”

From outside, the dogs started to bark.

You let your head fall onto the counter and groaned. “I fucking swear, every fucking time we’re fucking—”

He pulled out and rushed from the bathroom.

“Hey!” you called out. “What the hell?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself as he searched for where he’d thrown his pants. When had he even gotten them off?

“Ransom?”

“Wait there,” he directed and then he dashed out of the room.

“Excuse you!” It wasn’t like you had much of an option, your legs weren’t working yet, and you were sweating and gross, and bruised and your lip was swollen and clearly bitten.

After several moments, he hadn’t come back. What the hell was he up to? You winced and hummed, made any noise that made you feel slightly better, as you tiptoed around the room looking for something to put on. You settled on one of his shirts and slowly, pathetically made your way downstairs. “Ransom?”

No response.

“Hello, anyone?” If someone else was around, you could force them to look for your boyfriend instead of having to do so yourself. But it seemed that you were out of luck on that.

The dogs were still barking like crazy, but why was no one else reacting? And why did Ransom care? He never paid attention to the dogs. You followed the sound of their barking, they had moved from the backyard to the side of the house. Which was odd because they never went there.

The garage? Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Linda complaining about something, being constantly interrupted by Joni, Walt, and Ransom. Okay, again, unusual. He tended to ignore his mother, not argue with her.

His eyes widened when he saw you in the doorway. “No, no, this has to stop. I need everyone out of this room.”

“What the hell is going on?” you questioned.

“We don’t want to alarm you,” Donna began, “But—”

“Pretty sure he has drugs,” Meg claimed. “Like, hardcore drugs. Heroin, probably.”

Your eyes widened at him.

He glared. “I don’t have drugs, don’t be ridiculous.”

You gasped, pointing in the direction of the dogs still barking outside. “Those are German Shepherds, they’re drug dogs!”

Meg gasped, nodding at you with wide eyes. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Knock it off,” Linda scolded. “Ransom, show us what you’re hiding right now, or we’ll tear this room apart.”

He rolled his eyes, storming over to the corner of the room where a sheet was laid over something. “Fine, merry fucking Christmas.” He yanked it off one of the old kennels Linda used for her dogs when they were being trained.

There was a long list of things you were suspecting to see. Three sleeping puppies? No, they were nowhere on the list. And then you realized that was why he hadn’t gone to pick up Jacob’s present.

“You got me more puppies?” Linda inquired.

You, along with most of the room, glared at her.

“No,” Ransom snapped. “One is for Jacob and one’s for Meg.”

Both Jacob and Meg excitedly ran to the cage, startling the puppies awake. Much to Ransom’s dismay, the baby talk began without a second thought and the puppies were whining and making those small noises that always irritated him.

One for Jacob. One for Jacob. Then…the third. Oh, god.

He turned to you with a sigh.

“Yes,” you said, “Yes, yes, a million times yes!” You ran across the room, ignoring all your aching limbs and threw yourself into his arms. “And I’ll stop being so mean to you, and if you want to do this at the courthouse, I won’t even be upset because you’re so good to me and I’m awful to you. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he assured.

“No,” you protested. “It’s a million times not okay! I’m so sorry.” You pulled back to touch his face. “I’m really, really sorry. But I’m going to be the best wife in the world—”

“What?” Joni cut in.

That was the only thing in the world that could have drawn attention away from the puppies.

“Wife?” Linda repeated.

You checked with Ransom and he nodded. He had been looking forward to this. All you had to do was hold out your hand and Joni and Meg were excitedly shrieking. There hadn’t been a wedding in the family in so long.

“Wow,” Walt said. “Ransom? Engaged, showing commitment? This is the strangest year I’ve ever lived.”

Ransom rolled his eyes.

Before another word could be said, Linda collapsed onto the floor. Richard and Walt were the only ones who felt alarmed at the situation, while everyone else moved in closer to see the puppies.

“Which one is ours?” you wondered.

“Yours,” he corrected. “And the blonde one. She was the least yappy I could find on such short notice.”

Your eyebrows pulled together. “Where did you go?”

“The pound, obviously.”

“I fucking love you,” you blurted out, grabbing his face to pull him down into a kiss.

Once again, the room echoed with disgusted sounds.

“Which one’s mine?” Meg wondered.

“I couldn’t care less,” he admitted.

“I’m gonna name mine Hugh,” Jacob announced.

Ransom gave you an expectant look.

“I love you?” you tried.

“Gonna need a lot more than that.” He picked you up and because you knew Ransom wasn’t going to accept any kind of attitude from you for a very long time, you hooked your legs and arms around him and willingly went.

“I’ll take care of your dog until you guys are done being gross!” Meg promised.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics

ransom tags:

@la-cey

#ransom drysdale x reader #i did not actually do this #like wtf is wrong with me?#my writing

286 notes · View notes

rowyn-writes · 4 years

Text

Under the Weather (Jack Kline)

Warnings: Fluff, self doubt, sickness

Pairings: Jack x Reader, Dean x Reader (Platonically) Sam x Reader (Platonically)

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jack, Cas (mentioned)

Word Count: 1678

Summary: When you get sick, Jack's there to take care of you.

It was freezing outside. The first snowfall had made it's way through Kansas, and you were excited to enjoy the beautiful scenery. Ever since you were a kid, you loved playing in the snow.

You should have listened to Sam and Dean when they told you not to stay out there too long.

It just started with sneezing, which was normal for you since you had allergies, so you thought nothing of it.

"Achoo!" You sneezed once more. "Ugh. I think I'm getting sick."

Dean gave you one of his, 'I told you so,' faces. "What did we tell you about staying out there so long?"

"Yeah, yeah." You dismissed him. "Jeez, Winchester. You sound like my dad."

Dean, Sam and Cas might as well been your dad's, in all honesty. They had found you when you were thirteen. Your parents had been killed by a group of vampires, and you had been taken hostage. The Winchester's had found you, scared and confused.

They told you everything about vampires, werewolves, demons and everything that went bump in the night. You had nowhere to go, as your parents were your only family, so Sam and Dean took you in.

You stayed with Bobby most of the time, where he taught you what you needed to know about monsters and hunting. And when Bobby died, you were crushed. You didn't know how to cope with the loss, so you threw yourself into hunting, becoming one of the best hunters around.

You attempted to clear your throat, fighting off the urge to cough. Dean rolled his eyes. "I'll go get some cough syrup."

Jack entered the den, taking a seat on the couch next to you. "Are you okay, Y/n?" He asked.

"I'm fine, just feeling a little under the weather, is all." You assured him.

"But how can you be under the weather? You're inside." Jack seemed confused.

You giggled at his cluelessness. "No, Jack, I meant that I don't feel well today. I'm coming down with a cold. I'm sick."

"Oh." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm still learning the correct meaning of what humans say."

"You and Cas both. He's been down here for years and still doesn't understand a lot of sayings." You felt your body rumble with another cough.

"Y/n!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?! Do you need me to get Dean?"

"No, no, Jack, I'm okay. It's just a cough. Besides, Dean's getting me some medicine to stop it. Don't worry."

Not even a few seconds later, the oldest Winchester walked in and tossed you a bottle of cough syrup. "Drink up, kiddo."

You gave a disgusted look as you drank the bitter liquid. "Yuck."

"It's your own fault, Y/n. Sam and I told you not to stay outside too long." Dean reprimanded you. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, but it was worth it, right, Jack?" You asked, looking over at the Nephilim.

"It was!" Jack agreed. "Y/n and I made a snowman and built a fort!" Dean cracked a smile as he looked at you and Jack.

You felt your eyes begin to droop closed, feeling exhaustion overcome you. Neither Dean nor Jack bothered to wake you up, as you looked so tired.

Dean sighed as he looked at his phone. "Alright, I got a case to go work. Jody and Donna need help with what looks like a skinwalker. Watch over Y/n while she sleeps. Get her anything she needs. I would move her to her room, but I don't want to wake her. And if she wakes up and tries to join me and Sam, stop her. She's way too sick to gank some monsters." He gently kissed you on the head before saying goodbye to Jack.

As Dean watched you grow up, you had become a sort of little sister/daughter to him. Along with Sam, he always put you first. Although, Dean secretly wished you weren't a Hunter and went to college, like other people your age.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Jack asked, making you jump.

"Jesus Jack! You scared me." You pressed a hand to your chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine, I just thought I was alone. Where's Dean?"

"He's out with Sam on a case. Something about a skinwalker?" You threw the blanket off your body and began walking to your room. "Where are you going?" Jack asked, following you.

"To help Sam and Dean."

Dean's words floated in the back of Jack's mind. "Wait, Y/n. You can't go, you're sick."

You dismissed him, not listening to his words as you slipped on your shoes. "They need my help, Jack. We never go hunting without each other."

You stood up too quickly, becoming lightheaded. You stumbled slightly, but thankfully Jack caught you, steadying you. "You're not going anywhere. Sam and Dean can handle this." You sighed as he gently pushed you back down on the bed. He untied your shoes and set them aside. "You need to rest."

You pouted. "But I'm not tired. How about we watch Netflix?"

Jack agreed excitedly, as you had gotten him hooked on a show called Grey's Anatomy. You scooted over in your bed to make room for the tall boy. You got out your laptop and set it in your lap, clicking on the show. After a while, you felt your stomach rumble.

"Are you hungry?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, a little." You admitted. Jack nodded as he stood up and walked out. You gave him a confused look. You wanted to follow him, but you were so tired you doubted that you would make it to the kitchen. About ten minutes later, he returned with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea.

"Here. Sam told me that when humans get sick, this is what they eat to make them feel better." He handed you what looked like a heated up can of chicken noodle soup and herbal tea. You gave Jack a smile as you happily accepted the food. As soon as the soup hit your taste buds, you wanted to spit it out, but you begrudgingly swallowed it.

"This is amazing, Jack!" You lied with a smile on your face. "Thank you."

"Oh, I was worried that you might not like it. I've never cooked before." Jack sat back down next to you on your bed. You quickly downed the soup and drank the tea he had provided for you. You felt yourself becoming drowsy once more. Due to the lack of room on the bed, you snuggled yourself into Jack's side.

He slowly wrapped his arm around you, feeling awkward, but at the same time, he felt butterflies in his stomach. "Hey, Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You opened your eyes sleepily.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

That woke you up. "Oh, well, I don't really know. I've never been in love."

"You haven't?" Jack asked.

"No. Although, I haven't really had the chance to fall in love. I've grown up with Sam and Dean on the road, so I couldn't really make relationships like that." You paused for a moment. "But from what Sam and Dean have told me, it's not just a crush or something trivial. I think it's like you would do anything to make them happy, even if it hurt you. You would sacrifice everything if it meant that they would be content."

"Oh," Jack nodded. "Then I'm in love with you."

"What?!" You sat up. "Jack, you're not in love with me."

Jack sat up as well, his arm falling to his side. "But I am. I would do anything to make you happy."

"Yeah, but Jack, that different. I would do anything to make you, Sam, Dean, and Cas happy, but that doesn't mean I'm in love." He was obviously confused, there was no way he could be in love with you.

"But it feels different with you than it does anyone else. I want to be around you all the time, you make me laugh, and you teach me all kinds of cool things and different words, like fu-"

You covered Jack's mouth with your hand. "Don't say that word in front of anyone. You can only say it if it's just us." Jack nodded as you pulled your hand away.

"Why can't I be in love with you?" He asked.

You sighed as you looked at the Nephilim. You cared for him deeply, and you would go as far as to say you do love him, but there was no way he could love you.

"Jack, I'm not the type of person you fall in love with. I'm not a size 2, I'm a size 20, I'm not pretty, or smart or anything like that."

"But I think you're beautiful and intelligent. I don't care about those superficial things, Y/n. I think you're amazing."

You could feel your heard beating out if your chest. No one had ever told you these things, no one that mattered, anyways.

"Jack, you don't love me." You insisted.

"I do. Please, let me be in love with you." You didn't say anything as Jack leaned in to kiss you. You let his lips skim over yours before pulling away.

"Jack, I'm sick." You protested.

"I can't get sick." He grinned.

You felt yourself smile as you kissed him, his mouth fitting perfectly with yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as he cupped your face. You had no idea how Jack was such a good kisser, but he was amazing.

Suddenly, the door swung open. "Hey, kiddo, you doing o-" You and Jack jumped apart, looking over to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway.

"W-what are you doing back so early?" You stuttered.

"Jody and Donna didn't need our help after all." Sam mumbled, a shocked look on his face.

"Jack," Dean said lowly. "When I said take care of Y/n, this is not what I meant!"

#castiel imagine #jack kline imagine #sam winchester imagine #spn imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #gabriel imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline x y/n

402 notes · View notes

elianamarie-blog · 4 years

Text

The Things You Give Pt 14

Steven Hyde x Read

Happy Holidays and New Years everyone! I can’t believe we’re already 14 parts in. I’m so glad you guys are loving the story! Tag list is open if you want to be a part of it :)

Beep, beep, beep.

The sound of the heart monitor was the only noise resourcing from the room. Hyde sat beside y/n, watching as her chest gently rose and fell, and listened to Red interrogate Eric from the hallway.

“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?!” Red asked him in his usual gruff tone.

“I don’t, Dad!” Eric defended. “All I saw is that she was sick and she was trying to get Fez and Hyde to stop fighting and she just dropped!”

“And you didn’t catch her?” Red fumed. “She could’ve gotten hurt!”

“Well, I didn’t expect her to fall!” he responded.

“Red, honey, your yelling isn’t making anything easier,” Kitty said quietly.

“For me it is!”

“Red,” she said more sternly.

“Well, have they figured out what’s wrong with her?” the worried father asked impatiently.

“No, they haven’t,” Kitty answered calmly.

“What’s taking them so long?” he grumbled. “We’ve been here for hours!”

Kitty blinked at her husband. “We’ve been here for twenty-five minutes.”

“And our daughter has been unconscious for forty! My little girl is in there now and I want answers, dammit!”

“Red, she’s fine,” Kitty said, trying to soothe him. “She’s tucked in a bed right now with monitoring and her breathing is normal. They drew her blood and we’re just waiting on the test results.”

“They need to come faster!” he shouted, causing Kitty to frantically look around and smile nervously as her coworkers stared at them.

“Hey, Mom, if Dad has another heart attack, at least it’ll save us another ambulance bill since we’re already at a hospital,” Eric said grinning, sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

“Can it, dumbass!” Red snarled.

Inside the room, y/n groaned, hearing the arguing from outside and slowly opened her eyes, seeing nothing but white. Her head felt someone was taking a jack hammer to her skull. Steven noticed and waited anxiously by her side.

“Why do they have to be so loud?” she mumbled.

Steven sighed in relief and grabbed her hand. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling?”

“I think so,” she croaked. “I feel like crap and I’m tired.”

Hyde chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing her head softly. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“What happened? Am I in the hospital?” she asked, not letting go of his hand.

Hyde paused, searching her face. “You don’t—? You fainted and hit the ground pretty hard. They think you may have gotten a concussion.”

“Well, that explains my headache,” she grumbled and rubbed her head. She looked at Steven who was still looking at her with worried eyes. “Where is everyone?”

“Your parents are out in the hall with your brother, Fez is here but went to find ice cream.” He rolled his eyes at the thought but continued. “And everyone else is on their way.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About forty-five minutes. I’m glad you’re okay,” he answered and pulled her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

If it wasn’t for her head screaming at her, her heart would be fluttering away like butterflies, but all she wanted to do was numb the pain. A sharp pain surged through her skull, causing her to hiss.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked her.

She tried to nod, but that caused more pain to her skull. “My head hurts. A lot.”

“That’s what happens when you smack your head on concrete,” he answered. “You have a pretty good-sized knot on your head.”

Y/n reached up and felt her scalp until she felt a painful bump behind the side of her head. She winced at her own touched. “Ow.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” Hyde chuckled. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

Her stomach churned at the thought of liquids and scrunched up her nose. “No, but I probably should. I’ll take a ginger ale if they have any.”

“You got it, doll,” he said and walked out just as the doctor was stepping in.

“Good afternoon, Miss Forman,” the middle-aged, dark haired man said. “I’m Dr. Kipp. I’ve been looking over you while you were out. How are you feeling?”

“Not gonna lie, Doc, I feel pretty lousy,” Y/n responded. “I’ve been sick for the last couple of days. Not being able to keep anything down, I’m achy all over…I’m starting to wonder if I have the stomach flu or something. On top of that, my head is killing me.”

“Well, you passed out due to your blood pressure dropping which caused a lack of blood to the brain, but it’s definitely not the stomach flu,” Dr. Kipp answered casually, setting down his clipboard as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.

“How do you know that?” Y/n questioned him.

“Well, it can’t be because you’re pregnant.”

--Time Skip—

“How’s y/n doing?” Donna asked as she got to the waiting room, flowers in hand.

“Oh, that’s so sweet that you got her flowers!” Kitty gushed, making Donna smile. “And she’s awake. The doctor is in there right now with her.”

“Oh, good,” she said and sat down next to Fez who was quietly eating ice cream. “Where did you get the ice cream?”

“Oh, I told them that y/n was my wife and they let me get ice cream!” he replied stoically.

“So, you’re telling me that you hit on her and now you’re telling people she’s your wife?” Hyde seethed, holding a cup of coffee in one and a ginger ale can in the other.

“Can you kids not fight for five damn minutes please?” Red asked impatiently. “It’s bad enough that we’re here, I don’t want to have to hear about your petty drama.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the reason she’s here in the first place,” said Fez.

“Why would it be your fault?” Kitty asked Hyde.

“It’s not!” Hyde replied. “He’s just saying crap so I can knock his teeth in.”

Kitty and Red squinted their eyes at the teens for a moment. “What on earth is going on here?” Kitty asked, growing frustrated.

“Nothing,” Hyde answered through gritted, glaring daggers at Fez.

Fez returned the glare. “You know, Hyde, I often wonder what it would be like to hook up with my best friend’s sister. Don’t you?”

Hyde’s expression hardened. “It’s a good thing we’re in a hospital because when I break your bones, you’re already here!” Hyde aggressively moved towards Fez, but was stopped short by Eric getting in between them.

“Okay! That’s enough,” he sang-song. “Hyde, why don’t you sit over there quietly and don’t beat up Fez.” He turned to Fez. “And Fez? Shut the hell up.”

Hyde jerked himself away. “I’m going to go give this to y/n.”

Back in the room, y/n felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. “I’m…what?”

“Pregnant,” he responded in a faux enthusiastic voice. “That was through the blood test. We’re going to have you take urine test as well. So,” he pulled out a plastic cup. “You’re going to pee in this cup and when you’re finished, pull the string and a nurse will come in and collect it. Then, we’ll do a full examination on you to make sure your head is okay.”

Y/n nodded numbly and mindlessly grabbed the cup in her hand. “Okay…”

“Probably not the news you were expecting, huh?” he asked.

Y/n chuckled weakly. “No. Not at all.”

“Well, I’ll be back soon with your test results.”

He walked out the door, leaving y/n alone in the room. Her hands felt numb and she felt like there was static all around her. How could she be pregnant? How did she let this happen? And oh God, what was she going to say to Steven? Her eyes widened. Her parents?!

A sudden heavy weight was shattered onto her chest and her eyes began to water. How was she going to tell everyone? What if her dream came true and she truly was alone? Could she raise a baby on her own? Where would she live? What job would she have to do to support her baby? Was she even going to be a good mom? Will her children grow up to be decent people? What if they’re born with health conditions? Or they fall ill? Can she even count on herself to get out of bed at 2 AM to go to the 24 hour store to buy cough medicine when they get sick? How do you even change a poopy diaper? How is she going to react when they’re teenagers and they’re learning how to drive or get their first boyfriend or girlfriend? What kind of mom was she going to be? What kind father was Steven going to be? Will he even stick around?

With all these questions swimming through her head, she didn’t notice Steven walk back in. “I got that ginger ale you—hey, you okay?”

Y/n snapped her head up as she was yanked out of her thoughts, which she silently thanked heaven above for. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asked as he set down the drink on the table next to her. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, um,” she stuttered, swallowing hard and waved her hand casually. “The doctor says I passed out due to lack of blood to the brain. Blood tests came back normal, but he wants me to take a urine test just to be sure.” Not a total lie. Just left out a part.

“Oh, okay. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

“I think I got it,” she answered truthfully and slowly got out of bed, barley able to feel her legs. She ambled her way to the bathroom, dragging the IV along with her. She felt Steven’s stare burning a hole in the back of her head, but she couldn’t think of what he was thinking right now. She couldn’t. It would drive her to an anxiety attack.

She closed the door quietly and baby stepped her way to the toilet. She passed by the mirror and did a double take to her reflection. Her ponytail was a complete rats nest, her eyes had dark circles under them, and her normally rosy cheeks had lost all color. She looked half dead and she wanted to cringe away. She turned her head to the side and saw the swelled up bump on her skull. She winced when she saw it and let out a sigh. She really wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for 72 hours.

She made her way to the toilet and shakily did her business in the cup. When she was finished, she left in on the counter in the bathroom and pulled the string. After she was finished washing up, she walked out to meet Steven sitting in the chair.

“Hey,” he said gently whispered.

“Hey,” she answered in the same manner. “Where is everyone?”

“In the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”

Her heart dropped, but she needed to play it cool. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

He nodded and opened the door to call them in. She got back in bed with Hyde’s help, making sure her IV wouldn’t get pulled out of her arm.

“Oh, y/n,” Kitty sobbed and rushed over to y/n who was sitting up fully and wrapped her arms around her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Y/n barley reciprocated the hug. “I’m okay, Mom.”

“When we saw you being loaded up into the ambulance, I thought I was going to die right there,” Kitty responded, stepping away from her daughter.

“I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

“What did the doctor say?” she pried.

“Uh…they don’t know yet,” Y/n replied. “They’re taking a urine sample.”

“Well, a person fainting is never a good thing,” Kitty stated matter-of-factly. “It means your blood pressure dropped and you weren’t getting enough blood flow to the brain. Those things just don’t happen.”

“I know. They’re running tests right now,” Y/n said and leaned back against the pillows.

“When will we find out?” Red pushed.

“I don’t know,” Y/n responded growing annoyed. “I don’t know anything.” Lie, lie, LIE.

“Well, we better find out soon,” Red said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“If you wanna leave, you can. I’m a big girl, I can leave on my own,” Y/n responded.

“No, no, I wanna be here in this room when the doctor comes and tells us what’s wrong,” Kitty said stubbornly.

Y/n’s heart and stomach dropped. There was no way anyone was going to be in this room when the doctor came back with the results. Positive or not, she didn’t need her parents asking questions and then finding out about her and Steven.

She kept her face and voice as calm as possible. “No, no it’s okay. Really. I don’t know if I want everyone in here anyway. In fact, it’s probably best that I’m alone.”

“Oh, nonsense. I—”

“Kitty, if she wants to be alone, then we’ll leave her alone. She’s an adult now. She doesn’t need us in here,” Red said, signaling to his wife that they leave. “Besides, the Packers’s game is on and I wanna go home.”

Kitty sighed, annoyed. “Fine. Fine, I’ll leave, but I want to hear everything, missy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened a fraction and her heart beat violently against her blood cage. She could practically feel her blood pumping through her veins. She nodded numbly. “Okay.”

Kitty nodded and kissed y/n on the head before leaving. She felt some tension leave her body as she watched her parents leave. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling completely drained.

“Are you okay?” Donna asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just…feeling depleted.”

“Well, you can’t go to sleep yet,” Hyde said. “You might have a concussion.”

“I want sleep,” she whined.

“I know, but I’d rather you be exhausted than not wake up at all,” he responded.

She glared at him through half open eye lids and grumbled, “I hate you.”

He chuckled lightly. “I know.”

The door to the room opened revealing Kelso, Fez and Jackie.

“Hey, y/n, how are you feeling?” Kelso asked.

“Bout as great as I look,” she replied, a weak smile playing her lips.

“So, super sexy,” Fez responded cheekily but that smile quickly faded when Hyde punched his shoulder. “Ow.”

“Remember: Respect,” was all Hyde said before sitting back down.

“I heard what happened,” Kelso responded. “And Brooke made me bring you these.” He handed her a small bouquet of yellow daisies and lilies.

Y/n chuckled, accepting the flowers. “Tell Brooke I said thank you for the nice gesture. And tell her to bring the baby around soon. I want to meet my niece.”

Kelso’s face brightened. “You…you really think of her that way?”

Y/n nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve all been best friends since we were little and it only makes sense that we look at each other more than just friends now.”

“Like lovers?” Fez asked her seductively.

“Do you have a death wish?” Hyde spat.

“Okay, Steven that’s enough,” Y/n said as sternly as she could. “And Fez, shut up.”

Fez pouted and went and sat in the corner of the room.

“You know what? My mind is made up,” Kelso said. Y/n stared at him curiously, everyone joining in.

“Kelso, in order for your mind to be made up, you have to have a brain,” Eric commented.

Kelso shot Eric a glare before turning his head back towards y/n and Hyde. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Betsy lately and Brooke is really starting to trust me.”

“Okay, and that makes up your mind for?” Y/n asked him.

“Hang on, just let me finish,” he said smiling. “Brooke is starting to trust me so much she’s even allowing me to pick the godparents.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Y/n gleefully responded. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And there’s only one rule. It can’t be Fez,” Kelso added on.

Fez nodded. “That is a good rule.”

“Godparents?” Donna mumbled to Eric. “Like we need any more responsibilities.”

“I know,” Eric whispered back, rolling his eyes. “Such a burden.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot and it’s a big deal. So,” Kelso said, stepping closer to the bed where Eric and Donna sat. “Eric, Donna.”

“Uh, oh,” Eric sang-song.

“Please scooch over so I can ask Hyde and y/n if they’ll be Betsy’s godparents?”

Y/n looked at Hyde with excited eyes. “Really?!”

“What the hell?!” Eric exclaimed.

“Hyde and y/n?” Donna asked insulted.

“You picked Hyde and y/n?” Jackie asked, equally insulted. “Why didn’t you ask someone else? Like me?”

“Because you’re single,” Kelso deadpanned.

Jackie crossed her arms. “And?”

“And you need to be in a relationship to be a godparent,” Kelso responded slowly like he was scared to continue speaking. “That’s why they call it godparents. You can’t be single and be a godparent. That’s just stupid.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.

Jackie stared at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he said. “That barley makes any sense, you moron.”

“Hey, hey, hey, he chose us. Let him speak,” Y/n said not trying to contain her glee. “Not that I’m questioning your choice because, you know, you chose us, but why us?”

“Because I really trust you and I think you’d be fantastic with Betsy,” he responded sweetly.

“And you don’t think we won’t?” Eric asked.

“Yeah, you don’t trust us?” Donna chimed in.

“Well, to be fair, I’ve seen you drop almost everything you’ve held in your hands,” Kelso responded. “And you’ve never really taken care of a baby.”

“Yes we have!” Donna defended. “Remember that time last year when Laurie had to babysit that one baby and I ended up changing her diaper when she couldn’t? I was a freakin’ natural!”

“Yeah, I mean, if you gave me the honor of being godmother, I would be popular, head cheerleader, and voted best legs. This would give me another title,” Jackie argued.

“Would you guys relax?” Hyde asked everyone. “It’s not that big of deal.”

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s shunning you guys,” Y/n responded.

“You’re all still going to be aunts and uncles,” Kelso defended.

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Jackie grumbled and joined Fez in the back.

“We can be good godparents,” Eric argued. “You can trust us.”

“Eric, remember Goldie, the goldfish?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Remember how you killed Goldie by taking him out of the fish bowl?”

“I needed to hug something,” Eric answered coldly. “Besides, I’m not going to have to flush a baby down the toilet!”

“Either way, man, thanks. I’m honored,” Hyde said and clapped his hand with Kelso’s and pulled him in for a bro hug.

“If I have another kid, I’ll make you two godparents. I promise,” Kelso said.

Eric huffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Alright, I have to take a leak,” Hyde announced.

“And I’m going to go find some more ice cream,” Fez said.

“Can you guys make sure y/n doesn’t fall asleep?” Hyde continued.

“You got it pal!” Kelso responded and watched as Hyde and Fez walked out.

“I’m not a child,” Y/n responded once they were out of ear shot. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.”

“Kelso!” Fez called out and barged back into the room. “Kelso, come quick! There’s a hot nurse fight happening downstairs! Hurry before it ends!”

“See ya,” Kelso said and scrambled out the room, leaving Jackie, Eric, and Donna alone.

“Yeah, I’m leaving too,” Jackie said pouting. “I don’t want to sit here and be reminded that I wasn’t picked for godparent. I may have to do some shopping therapy to get over it. Bye!” She squealed and walked out, leaving just the twins and Donna.

“Do you need anything sis?” Eric asked. “Some water? Fluff up your pillows? Relinquish your title of godparent over to me?”

Y/n gave her twin a look before scoffing. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“Fine. I’ll just go see if they have any teddy bears in the gift shop that reads ‘Not Quite the Best Godparents’ and maybe it’ll be tear absorbent!” With that, he stormed out the room, leaving Elena in stunned silence.

Donna rolled her eyes. “I better go after him. Last time I left him alone while he was upset, he thought I didn’t care about him anymore and didn’t speak to me for three days.”

She left, leaving y/n alone in the room. Again. She leaned back once more, enjoying the silence, but now that she was alone again, she realized just how loud the silence was. All she could think was pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.

“What am I going to do?” she mumbled to herself.

The door to the room opened again; Dr. Kipp entering once more.

“Hi Miss. Forman,” Dr. Kipp greeted. “We got your test results back.”

She gulped. “And?”

He sat down on the stool next to her bed and looked her in the eyes. “It’s positive.”

Her heart dropped completely, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I’m pregnant?”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we need to gather some more information from you so we can determine how far along you are. But first the basics. What’s your full name?”

“Y/f/n y/m/n Forman.”

He scratched her answer down on his clipboard. “Birthday?”

“May 18, 1959.”

“So, that makes you eighteen years old, correct?”

Y/n nodded.

“Okay, and your current address?”

“416 Edlebrook Ave.”

“Beautiful,” the doctor responded and looked up from his clipboard. “Do you know who the father is?”

Tears started to burn her eyes as she nodded her head. “I do.”

“What’s his name?”

“Steven James Hyde.”

“When was your last menstrual cycle?”

“Somewhere in mid September.”

“And today is October 19,” he said more to himself. “So, you are about three weeks along. Now, I’m going to give this information to the nurse and have her give you a pamphlet and a referral to an OB/GYN. I’ll have them give you a call to set up an appointment. Do we have permission to leave a message with someone if you’re not available?”

“Uh…no, just me is fine, thanks. I’m not ready to tell people yet.”

He nods. “Understandable. Now, let’s look at your head and see how you’re doing.” As he took out a flashlight and started examining her eyes, Hyde walked back in the room.

“Hey, Doc. How’s she doing?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion, so that’s good.” He turned off the light and started feeling around underneath her jaw to the back of her head where he felt her bump. She winced and he took note of it. “She seems great besides that nasty bump. Just put some ice on it if it starts to hurt and take some aspirin for the pain. Otherwise, you’re good to go.”

“What about her test results?”

Dr. Kipp glanced at y/n and saw her terrified look. He glanced back at Steven who looked worried. “Test results came back normal and she’s perfectly healthy.” He noticed Steven visibly relax. “Anything else, she may discuss with you at her discretion.”

Y/n mouthed a thank you to the doctor who gave her a subtle nod and finished writing his notes on his clipboard. “I’ll have a nurse discharge you. You have a good rest of your night and rest up.”

Y/n nodded. “Thank you.”

With that, he left the room, leaving y/n wanting to vomit—and not from feeling sick this time. She continued to sit in her bed, not being able to properly process the information. Her world felt fuzzy and she felt like she was going to pass out for a second time. She could hear Steven talking to her, but it was all garbled and muffled as if she were underwater. Was her dream right? Was she going to be disowned by her family? Is she going to disappoint her mother? Oh no, how is Red going to take this? She and Steven are dead. Dead like road kill.

She heard Steven’s muffled voice again, but this time louder. She blinked and looked up at Steven. “I’m sorry, what?”

He knitted his eyebrows at her. “I said, are you okay? Do you need help getting dressed?”

She shook her heavy head and slowly slid out of bed. “I should be okay.” She untied her hospital gown, allowing it to pool around her feet. She shivered as the cold air hit her bare skin and turned to see her clothes balled up in a plastic bag. She slowly started dressing herself and felt Hyde’s eyes burn into her the whole time.

She finally looked up at him as she finished putting on her pajama top. “What’s up?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting different.”

She nodded, not being able to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I think so. Just still not feeling well and feeling a little disoriented from the fall. But I think I’m good.”

He eyed her for a minute. “Okay,” he responded slowly. “As long as you don’t pass out on me again.”

She chuckled. “I think I’ll be okay.”

A knock came at the door and the nurse walked in. “Okay, Miss Forman. Here are your doctor’s notes to help you feel better. Plenty of rest and fluids. And—” She noticed Steven listening to her and she looked back down at the pamphlet in her hands and slid the doctor’s notes over it. “Here’s everything you else need to know. If you have any questions, there’s a number you can call and if you don’t get better or start to feel worse, come on back in.”

Y/n thanked her and quietly gathered the rest of her stuff and headed out with Steven. He guided her slowly into the camino and started up the car. She rested her elbow on the windowsill of the door and leaned her head into her hand, feeling like sleep will overtake her any minute now. Hyde placed a gentle hand on her thigh and lovingly rubber circles with his thumb.

“Let’s get you back in bed, yeah?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, not being able to form words in fear she would start crying.

The drive home was deathly quiet as rain started to fall. The only noise emitting was outside as the rain fell onto the windshield. Not being able to handle the silence, Hyde reached over and turned on the radio, allowing the music to softly fill the car. It eased the tension slightly, allowing y/n to relax.

He pulled up in front of a supermarket and put the car in park.

“What are we doing here?” she croaked.

“Do you want some soup?”

She gave him a small smile. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

He nodded and got out of the car, leaving it on so the heater would warm up y/n. Ever since the hospital, she’d been cold and not able to heat up as fast as she normally would. She shivered, realizing she didn’t bring a jacket or her robe. She looked around the car and noticed a blanket behind the driver’s seat. She wrapped her cold fingers around the soft material and realized it was their sex blanket. She crunched up her nose a little, noticing some stains. “Ugh, gross,” she murmured before placing the clean side on her. The stench of sex filled her nostrils, but luckily it didn’t upset her stomach more than it already was.

She waited in the car for a few more minutes with the blanket pulled up to her chin and listened to the music. Paul Anka came on, singing (You’re) Having My Baby.

“Would you look at that,” she grumbled and changed the station. Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely was on playing. “What the…” she grumbled and changed it to another station. A country song this time was playing. One that y/n didn’t know, but it was better than the others, so she left it on. She listened to the lyrics as they went:

The girls in New York City, they all march for women's lib And better homes and garden shows, the modern way to live And the pill may change the world tomorrow, but meanwhile, today Here in Topeka, the flies are a buzzin' The dog is a barkin' and the floor needs a scrubbin' One needs a spankin' and one needs a huggin' Lord, one's on the way

Oh gee, I hope it ain't twins, again.

“Are you kidding me?” She reached over and turned off the radio, choosing to sit in silence.

Just then the driver’s door opened and Steven clambered inside with a container of chicken soup in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. “Here you go, doll.”

“Awe, thank you, baby.” She grabbed the container from his hands and allowed the warmth to thaw her icy ones.

“You turned off the music?” he questioned and started to beat the pack against the heel of his hand.

“Yeah, there was nothing good on.” Technically not a lie.

“Ah, makes sense,” he responded and noticed the blanket. He snorted teasingly. “Cold?”

“No, no, I’m burning up actually. The blanket was so I could feel like I’m in hell.”

He threw his add head back laughing. “Take it easy, Firecracker. If I hada known you were cold, I would’ve given you my jacket.”

She smirked at him. “Nah, this is fine. Thanks. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said and stuck a cigarette between his lips.

Y/n’s eyes widened and quickly ripped it from him mouth.

“What the hell, y/n?”

“Uh, I’m still not feeling well enough. I don’t want hurl all over your car.”

He scrunched up his nose at her. “Fine. Fair point. But I’m smoking when I get back!”

Y/n shook her head at him. “What a rebel.”

“Damn straight,” he responded and turned the car on. “Don’t forget who you’re with.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He smiled at her before backing up and driving them home for the night.

--Time Skip—

The next couple of days were brutal for y/n. Kitty wouldn’t stop interrogating her and y/n finally told something made up to get her off her back. Kitty didn’t believe her, but she backed off knowing she’ll be back again. She wanted so badly to tell Steven about her pregnancy, but every time she tried, it would come out a different sentence.

“I’m,” she would start, but right when she would look into his baby blue eyes, she would panic. “hungry. I’m hungry, starving! Can we go get something to eat?”

He would give her a weird look before agreeing and leaving to buy her food.

On top of that, morning sickness would rear its ugly head and she would end up being sick at the most random of times. She would be sitting down in the basement with her friends, feeling fine, but then she would feel her lunch coming back up and she would have to haul ass to the nearest restroom.

Everyone was worried about her, trying to get her to go back to the doctor, but she already knew. She had secretly made the appointment with the OB/GYN and wasn’t going to be able to see her until two weeks out. Until then, she had to keep lying and making excuses.

“It’s been almost a week,” Eric said one afternoon as they were all huddled into the basement. “You really should go back to the doctor.”

“I’d rather not,” Y/n said. “Going to the doctors for every sniff and cough is not my thing.”

“But it’s not just a sniffle or a cough,” he pointed out. “It’s like one minute you’re fine and then the next you’re throwing up Mom’s tuna casserole.”

“That was a long night,” she countered, remembering that night as she had to lay on the floor next to the toilet for hours because she couldn’t stop throwing up.

“Well, can you still keep down fluids?” Donna asked. “Like, chicken broth, orange juice, and tea?”

“Yeah, those are fine,” Y/n responded. “I just can’t seem to digest solid foods. But I was able to drink apple juice the other day with some bread. I’m also not nauseas all day anymore. I think I’m getting better.”

“Well, if you’re feeling better, wanna go shoot some hoops?” Kelso asked.

“Nah, but you guys can,” Y/n responded. “Me and Donna can just sit and ogle.”

“I knew you were checking me out,” Kelso purred and rubbed his chest.

“Not you, you dork,” Y/n said. “Hyde and Eric.”

“You ogle at me?” Eric said disgusted. “That’s gross.”

“No! Donna is, you dumbass!” Y/n said and stood up while Eric laughed. “Moron.”

She walked outside to the driveway with everyone behind her. As they reached the driveway, the boys split up into their group while Donna and y/n moved away to watch from the porch.

“So, Hyde, how’s it been with you and y/n?” Kelso asked under his breath, making sure the girls couldn’t hear.

“You know, things are going good, but with her being sick this past week, it’s been kinda hard not getting any action,” Hyde responded.

“Ewwwww! Could you please not?” Eric exclaimed. “I told you I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I know, that’s why I did it,” Hyde laughed and tossed the ball to Eric. “Your play. Go.”

The girls watched from the porch, admiring the way their men looked. Y/n wanted so badly to jump Hyde’s bones, but didn’t want to puke in the middle of it and ruin the mood. She and Donna chatted idly as they watched their men get sweaty and hot.

“Look, I know he’s your brother, but damn does he look hot when he’s all concentrated,” Donna swooned as she watched Eric block Fez’s slam dunk.

“Really? I think he looks constipated,” Y/n laughed.

In the middle of the play, Eric turned, facing them while trying to block Kelso from making his shot. The concentration he wore on his face made Donna drool but laugh.

“You’re right, he does look constipated,” she agreed and laughed even more.

“I know you don’t think so, but Steven just looks so good when he’s moving around like that,” Y/n said and stared at her boyfriend. “I mean, when he gets all sweaty and flushed, it makes me want him so bad.”

Donna chuckled. “So, how have you guys been?”

“We’ve been good. You know with me being this sick, we haven’t really gotten the time to do it or anything.”

“From the looks of it earlier and hearing Eric scream ‘ew’ makes me believe that Hyde already said something like that to him,” Donna laughed once more.

Y/n chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the four boys play basketball. The entire time, y/n’s heart was hammering against her chest, debating on telling Donna right there. She couldn’t take keeping a secret this big from her best friend. Besides, if she wasn’t going to tell someone soon, she was going to explode.

“Donna,” she said shakily. “I have something to tell you.”

Seeing how serious her tone was, Donna perked up. “What?”

“I need you to promise me that you’re not going to freak out. Because if you do, everyone will hear it and I can’t have that right now.”

Donna’s heart started beating wildly against her own ribcage, now nervous and worried. “Okay?”

“And whatever happens, promise me you’ll still be my friend?”

“Of course! What’s going on?”

Y/n took a deep breath before looking Donna in the eye. At that moment, she wanted to crawl up in a bawl and just cry. But she knew she couldn’t; She had to be strong. So instead she let out a shaky breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

@lieswithoutfairytales @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @taysirene

#that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Steven Hyde #steven hyde x reader #steven hyde x y/n #Eric Forman #red forman #kitty forman #Donna Pinciotti #fez #jackie burkhart #Michael Kelso

192 notes · View notes

glassworkspiderlilies · 3 years

Text

lily blooded

Piofiore no Banshou | Dante/Liliana, Nicola | AO3 Summary: There is worry that goes around, when Liliana Adornato, raised a church girl all her life, becomes Liliana Falzone, thereby officially moving into the Falzone manor and taking up the position of a mafia wife. She settles in just fine. Notes: spent five hours typing 4k words in one sitting and had an enormous amount of fun...love the falzone boys. :’)

There is worry that goes around, when Liliana Adornato becomes romantically involved with the young Falzone Boss. After all, she was raised a church girl through and through, pious and idealistic, seemingly untouched by such violence that the mafia is so often exposed to or the cause of. Even those who do know her history of run-ins with the mafia worry at least a little, because it’s one thing to be caught up in their problems or under their protection, and another to be the lover of one of the most prominent Family’s Boss.

Liliana can be described in many ways, but they all boil down to the same thing—polite, well-mannered, pious, gentle…if one must offer up a flaw, then it is probably that she can work herself too hard for those she cares for, and that she can be kind to a fault. All in all, she is not the sort of girl that one imagines entangled with the mafia. Though the rest of the Falzone family are used to her presence—and enjoy it—even they will consider her something of the Family princess, a delicate girl to be protected, even more so because she is their Boss’ precious lady.

It is something of a surprise when Dante Falzone and Liliana Adornato are married in springtime, and she becomes Liliana Falzone. Oh, there was never any doubt of their deep affection for each other, but marriage is simply more binding, especially when one marries into the mafia.

Nevertheless, the wedding is celebrated with joy, and Liliana officially moves into the Falzone manor and takes on the position of a mafia wife—the lady of the Falzone Family, a woman with even more status and position than before—

And she settles in just fine.

The Falzone soldati are surprised when they walk into the training rooms one day to see their Boss and his Lady in front of the targets. There is a gun in Lili’s hands, and Dante is standing behind her, helping position her arms and correcting her posture. It would be something out of a romance novel considering how he is practically cradling her to teach her, but the soldati see the absolute seriousness in both of their eyes, and they understand that this is not some mere whim of either of theirs.

It makes sense, for a mafia wife to learn to shoot a gun. But even so, it is a shock seeing the weapon in Lili’s hands, when they are so used to her cheerfully passing out plates of dolce or taking flowers from the Boss with a radiant smile.

But she does not cut much of an intimidating figure, even with the sheer focus on her face, and she yelps when she fires the gun, stepping backwards into Dante’s chest. It’s something of a relief that this incongruent thing does not seem to change her at all.

Dante chuckles a little, but repositions her.

“You’ll get used to the recoil,” he says, and Lili laughs a little, looking at her shaking hand.

“I’m used to the sound, after everything that’s happened,” she says ruefully, “But shooting one yourself is very different, isn’t it?”

Dante looks troubled.

“I still hope that you’ll never have to use one. But you’ve had to take my gun on at least two occasions and shoot on one, so…while I’d much rather protect you personally, or have Nicola or Leo do so, I will concede to the fact that it is much better for you to know how to shoot than not.”

“Thank you for agreeing to teach me, Dante,” Lili says warmly.

He sighs and gives her a wry smile.

“I didn’t expect you to ask for this,” he admits, “But you never fail to surprise me.”

Lili giggles, holding up the gun again and narrowing her eyes at the target.

“I love you, Dante,” she says simply, “So I’m prepared to stand by you, and that means the Family too. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are never a burden,” Dante says emphatically, a little pink from her declaration, and Lili smiles.

“Well, I’d like to be able to protect you, and the Family, at least a little bit,” she amends, “Just as you all protect me.” She tilts up to press a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth before she faces forward once more. “Can you show me again, please?”

Dante clears his throat, a little off balance from the kiss, then wraps his hands around hers again to assist her.

The soldati make their presence known after she fires the next shot, and the Boss and his wife greet them but continue with their own practice as the men begin their own. After an hour passes, Dante and Lili finish up and end their session for the day. She is only to shoot when either he, Nicola, or Leo are present until she becomes more proficient, and she waves cheerfully as she departs the room.

The soldati don’t think overmuch about this new development other than the fact that it does seem like a good idea if she can train herself to be a half decent shot. In their minds, Liliana is still that sweet church girl, even if she is now the donna of the Falzone Family. So long as she can hold a gun without shaking, that’s enough in their minds. When she’s hardly seen in the training rooms again, no one thinks less of her for it.

But something that they come to learn more fully in due time is that Liliana Falzone nee Adornato does not do things by halves.

Some months down the line, she and the Boss walk into a fairly populated practice room. They are greeted respectfully and space is made for them at one of the targets.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to practice with you much,” Dante apologizes to her, as they take up their positions.

“Don’t worry, you’ve been so busy,” Lili replies soothingly as she loads the gun with ease. Dante watches her and raises an eyebrow, but Lili merely smiles. “Nicola taught me a lot, and you know I’m cleared to practice by myself now.”

Dante hums, but she smiles at him, innocent and serene.

“I think I’ve improved a lot!” she chirps, facing the target, “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Look!”

Without hesitating, she fires off three shots in rapid succession, and the soldati are taken aback by both her accuracy and fluidity of movement. One hits the bullseye, the others hit fairly close. The room is silent, and Dante claps slowly, at which Lili smiles bashfully at.

“I practiced more at night, when the room was empty…it’s a little embarrassing to be watched when I’m doing poorly. The thing is, I’m actually aiming for the outer ring,” she confesses, “If I aim for the center, it has the opposite effect. I don’t think I can say I’m a good shot given that, really, but…I do okay, right?”

Dante blinks, then barks out a laugh.

“So this is what Nicola meant,” he says, “When he said you’re maybe the best-worst shot he’s ever seen.”

Lili turns pink, then even pinker when she realizes all the soldati have stopped to stare.

One by one, they incline their heads in respect.

“Donna,” they chorus, and though she continues to blush furiously, their Boss looks pleased.

Dante is very young, for a mafia Boss, and so he’d had to fight harder than others to cement his position. He’s treated with respect now, but his youth is always apparent when he attends meetings with other clans or business associates. He knows that he is still often being watched for weaknesses, and questioned silently as to whether he is truly good enough to lead the Falzone Family.

Dante is used to all that by now; in childhood, it’d been a burden. Now, he has the support of many, and leads with confidence and determination.

But he worries for Lili, now that they are married. Wives are expected to attend certain functions; as his lover, she’d been exempt from such things, but now that is no longer true. A dinner meeting with some longtime associates has been called, and it will be the first time Lili is attending something like this as his wife.

“I’m nervous,” Lili admits to him the night before. “But I’m ready, too.”

Dante kisses her forehead, and shows his appreciation slowly and sweetly. They rise late the next morning, but the dinner meeting is the only important thing on the agenda today, so they take their time getting ready.

Lili is stunning in her navy and silver gown, matching with Dante’s suit. Crystals wink at her ears and neck, and a bit of lipstick reddens her lips. Nicola smiles widely when he sees them, and Leo gasps in appreciation.

“Furrow your eyebrows a little,” Nicola suggests, poking the space between his own to demonstrate. “It’ll make you look more intimidating. Your natural face is a little too innocent.”

“I can’t help it,” Lili protests, the consequent scrunching of her eyebrows merely making her look cute, “It’s my face!”

“Yes, I suppose you don’t have Dante’s natural scary disposition at all,” Nicola sighs, “We’ll have to develop your expressions next time or they’ll eat you up.”

“Nicola,” Dante admonishes. “She’s fine as is. Stop making her more nervous.”

Nicola winks.

“Fine, fine. Then knock them dead some other way.”

“I thought the point was to establish better relations,” Lili blinks, and Nicola laughs.

“In the mafia, sometimes it’s one and the same,” he says cheerfully. “In any case, have fun!”

Lili gives him a confused look, but Dante tells her not to pay attention to him and they depart.

Nicola needn’t have worried, in the end.

True, the meeting starts off a little rocky—all of the associates return to their roots, consciously or not, and eye Dante and Lili for their youth. Dante has been tried true over the years, but Lili is fresh blood, and Nicola was right—she looks innocent, despite the darker style she is dressed in. Though she bears the stares of four middle-aged men and their regal wives admirably, they are like sharks in water, ready for the first hint of weakness.

All the women are mostly quiet throughout the dinner itself, but everyone loosens up afterwards, when they enjoy dessert and drinks and cigars. One of the wives offers to pour drinks, and while some of the men decline in favor of cigars and all the other women do, Lili is not given the opportunity to do so.

“Drink up, Signora Falzone,” the instigator says, “I chose the whiskey myself—it is not often we get the opportunity to drink such quality liquor in such good company.”

“Thank you, Signora Rossi,” Lili says smoothly, putting the glass to her lips as everyone watches, discreetly or not.

She drinks, her expression unchanged as the liquor hits her tongue, though her eyes widen a little as she swallows.

“Oh! It’s wonderful,” Lili says, smiling, “I’ve never had whiskey like this before. May I ask the brand?”

Madam Rossi looks a little mollified and shows her the bottle, though she pours more into Lili’s glass with a subtly mischievous look. The madam drinks as well, though less, and the other wives sip digestivos or wine as they begin to chat about various things, and Rossi continues to refill Lili’s glass throughout the conversation.

Dante does not fail to notice, but Lili puts a hand on his knee to let him know she is okay, and so he does nothing. The other men watch out of the corner of their eyes with interest, but say nothing either.

By the end of the night, half the associates and their wives are drunk, including Madam Rossi. Though Lili has had the most alcohol of all of them, she is practically still sober, if a little sleepy.

Signor Vallone, one who had simply smoked cigars and not drunk at all, laughs heartily in the lobby as their cars are prepared.

“Looks can be deceiving, indeed!” he says, shaking Lili’s hand merrily, “I’ve never seen anyone drink Signor Di Lucca or Signora Rossi under the table like that. That was fine entertainment in of itself.”

Lili demurs, and one of the other wives—Signora Albanesi, who had simply enjoyed one glass of wine—steps forward to say her goodbyes as well.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear,” she says warmly, “Perhaps next time, you will recommend us your favorite drink instead, yes?”

“Of course, Signora,” Lili says, smiling back.

Everyone splits with good-natured farewells, almost as though they were simply friends parting for the night and not partners linked by criminal activities. The atmosphere is markedly different than it had been at the beginning of the night—true approval is not so easy to earn, but Lili has certainly garnered the fondness of the group in the course of a few hours.

She snuggles against Dante in the car, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head. She tilts her face up for a proper kiss, and Dante chuckles before he obliges.

“You taste like whiskey,” he says, amused, “And I’m impressed, myself. I know you can outdrink me, but it’s something to be able to drink more than Signor Di Lucci and Signora Rossi.”

“I did enjoy the whiskey,” Lili admits, “And she just…kept pouring. I thought it would be rude to refuse. But I still like the white wine we drink together best.”

Dante smiles.

“Shall we open a bottle when we get home?” he teases, and Lili giggles.

“If you’d like. I think I can handle one more,” she says, meaning the bottle, and Dante laughs.

“I know you hate these kinds of functions, Dante,” Nicola says amiably one afternoon in Dante’s office, “But it’s important to keep up appearances sometimes, too.”

Dante sighs, thanking Lili as she sets down two slices of strawberry crostata and a cappuccino for him, as well as a single slice and an espresso for Nicola, who thanks her as well.

“I have far better things to do than to sit down and play card games for hours on end,” Dante grumbles, sipping at his coffee. The frustrated lines around his eyes soften for a moment as he drinks, but then he frowns again. “These guys are getting quite friendly.”

“They’re doing it for appearances too, of course,” Nicola replies reasonably, sipping his own espresso. “They’re politicians. But you’re right—they’re getting quite persistent, aren’t they? You do business with newbies once and they start getting too comfortable.” He pauses to take a bite of crostata. “They’re probably asking so often because they’re aware you hate gambling, too. They want to feel superior in some way or another, since you have the upper hand in all the other ways that matter.”

Dante sighs as he leans back in his seat.

“When?” he asks.

“Next Friday.”

Dante’s frown deepens.

“No. I have a meeting with lobbyists that day, and that takes priority over some politicians who want to play cards to boost their ego. Nicola, you go. You’ll have more fun, anyway.”

“Yes, Boss. But I will say—if you don’t show your face at least once, then they’ll only grow more persistent. It’s not me they want to see, even if I am your Underboss.”

Dante sighs deeply and says nothing else, choosing to focus on his dessert instead.

“Um…” Lili pipes up, having taken an armchair in the corner of the room with her own plate of crostata and a caffe latte. “Why don’t I go, then? With Nicola, that is.”

Dante and Nicola turn to look at her, blinking in surprise.

“It’s actually card games, right?” Lili asks, looking between them a little nervously, “That’s not code for anything?”

“It’s just card games,” Nicola confirms, “Though they might talk business, of course, and money will change hands one way or another.”

“I can play cards,” Lili continues, emboldened by the fact that neither have said no outright, “I could go with Nicola as a…I don’t know, additional representative. I know mafia wives don’t usually participate in such things, but…well, would it help?”

Nicola’s eyes are bright, having played cards with Lili before and knowing her skill firsthand. His lips curve into a wolfish grin, and he looks at Dante eagerly, who glances back at him with a raised brow.

“I don’t like it,” Dante says bluntly, but Lili simply waits, knowing that it comes from a place of concern.

It is also still not a refusal.

“I don’t know that it would help,” Nicola admits, “But it doesn’t mean nothing, either, that the Boss’ wife attends in his place. It would certainly be interesting—there’s no way they would complain at such a development because of that. And I think Lili could do very well.”

Lili smiles, and Nicola smiles back.

“I’d like to assist in any way I can,” Lili states resolutely, “After all, I’m part of the Family, too.”

Both Nicola and Lili look at Dante, just a little pleading, and eventually he sighs and relents.

“I don’t like it,” he repeats, looking at Lili, “But if you want to go, you can go. Nicola—”

“I’ll protect her with my life, Dante,” Nicola says, a hand over his heart, “I swear it.”

Dante sighs again, and finishes his crostata in resignation.

He’s not home when Nicola and Lili leave for the meeting, but he’s just arrived back for a few minutes when they return, merely a few feet away from the door when it opens again.

Nicola is laughing, and Lili looks a little embarrassed as she tells him he’s overreacting, but both light up when they see Dante walking back over to them.

“Dante!” Lili exclaims, hugging him in greeting. “Welcome back.”

“Hello,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I should be saying that to you. You’re both back earlier than I expected, though.”

He looks between Lili and Nicola, the latter whom is brushing a tear out of the corner of his eye from laughing so hard. Dante raises a brow, and Nicola grins, gesturing to the salon.

“Alright, what happened?” Dante asks, as Giulia goes to prepare refreshments.

“Go on,” Nicola says encouragingly to Lili, and she hesitates before she opens her pocketbook and drops a few hefty rolls of cash onto Dante’s lap.

His eyes widen.

“Dante, it was incredible,” Nicola practically crows, accepting a cup of coffee from Giulia, “I haven’t seen anyone hustled that much in a while. Those arrogant politicians…seeing their faces fall…it was magnificent. I don’t think they’ll be pestering the Falzones to attend their card table again so soon.”

Dante raises a brow, and Giulia stays to listen to Nicola retell the entire story in detail. Lili had simply played well—far better than anyone had truly expected. The young woman sips her coffee demurely throughout the tale, embarrassed still at Nicola’s praise and gleeful amusement.

“I wasn’t trying to…to hustle them!” she eventually protests, blushing.

“That’s what makes it even better,” Nicola says. “I know you said you’ve never lost at cards, but it is simply delightful to see someone else suffer the consequences.”

Lili sniffs, ducking her head, and Dante gives her an amused look.

“Anyway, that’s our politician problem solved for now,” Nicola hums, “After how much they lost, I think they’ll think twice about trying to get a leg up on the mafia.”

Dante folds his hands, thinking.

“On the contrary,” he says slowly, and Nicola’s eyes brighten as he immediately catches onto his thinking, “The next time they have a card game, I think we should all go. I’d like to see Lili play myself, and it never hurts to remind politicians just who they’re dealing with.”

Nicola starts laughing again, and Lili stares at Dante with her mouth slightly open.

“Good work today,” he says, smiling, and respectfully drops the money back into Lili’s lap.

To the victor, the spoils, after all.

If there is one thing that Lili truly hates still, it is the torture. But she is a mafia wife now and will not interrupt, though nor will she watch the proceedings. Sometimes she is left ignorant that it is happening at all, out of respect.

Yet in this too does she have her role.

Sometimes, for the ones that don’t crack even after hours in the cells but hold information important enough to keep trying, it’s Lili who goes to visit the prisoner afterwards. She goes alone, with medical supplies and water, tears spilling from her eyes. The better prisoners tend to think she is some angel. After some time, they confide in her, confessing their sins and regrets, and in time, the information they no longer consider worth their life.

Sometimes, they are even let go, after their threat is weighed and considered. The prisoners gape when they find out their angel is actually the Falzone Boss’ wife, and more often than not they will pledge their devotion to her—and thus the Falzones, for kindness is near nonexistent in the mafia. It is a double edged sword, in the criminal world, but it has its uses.

But sometimes, the prisoners truly have rot in their hearts. Those types see Lili as some stupid maid who doesn’t know better and isn’t worth anything. They attempt to take advantage of her kindness and body, lunging for her like the snakes they are as they spit the truth of what they’d done viciously, wanting to hurt her.

She’s quicker than she looks, flinging herself back with a little scream, and Dante and Nicola file in, always having waited outside.

Lili runs to her husband, burying her face in his chest as he holds her.

The prisoners are always surprised, but the terrible ones don’t always understand who she is quickly enough. They snarl and spit dirty words, but she is still the one who tended to them—they are speared by her gaze when she half turns and looks at them with her teary eyes, disappointed and damning.

“How could you?” she whispers after learning the depths of their sins, and that’s when they truly feel like scum.

Lili does not watch when the worst ones are executed, though she hears the screams anyway.

At night, despite knowing what occurred earlier, she wants Dante to touch her. He does, lips and fingers cool then hot on her body, reminding her what else he is capable of. He is good with his hands, and he is still the man she loves. Dante just a little apologetic that he cannot keep her away from all brutality, but he cannot be apologetic about the decisions he must make. Lili was never under any illusions when she married him—she just cannot help this sympathetic part of herself, even as she understands. Dante knows that, and loves her for it, too. There is a certain sense of gratitude he feels, when she asks to make love even after these situations, that she doesn’t feel disgust or shy away from him instead.

Dante, she whispers against his lips, Dante, I love you.

She is unbearably precious in his hands, flushed and adoring, just as he must look to her.

Lili, he murmurs back, Liliana, as I love you.

She sleeps peacefully in his arms after, nothing but affection between them, their limbs tangled with each other’s.

Dante counts his blessings, and presses her close.

A few years go by, and though everyone knows that Dante Falzone is married, not everyone has met the rumored Liliana Falzone. Though she does attend various functions and oversee some things in Dante’s stead, as a whole she is kept out of the spotlight, for both of their comforts.

Sometimes, however, people get to meet her in unexpected ways.

The new associate from outside the city Dante is meeting today is shocked when Lili arrives with him, looking angelic on his arm. She has an interest in the business he is offering, Dante says, with an indulgent smile at her, and the associate thinks that she looks like an easy target. Both the Falzone boss and his wife still look very young, and he must be an idiot to bring his wife to such a meeting.

And even more of an idiot to leave to take a call, not matter how supposedly urgent it is.

Signora Liliana smiles pleasantly and makes small talk, while the associate answers in a bored, dismissive manner. But after a while he realizes with a start that her questions are growing more pointed, and that she is probing into his boss, and his relation to a string of issues in Burlone that have resulted in the deaths of a handful of Falzone men.

The associate starts sweating, then rises from his seat, intending to bolt—

Only to freeze at the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Please, sit down,” Liliana says, still entirely amiable, “I’m not a very good shot, actually. I’ll mean for the wall and hit right between your eyes if I’m not careful, and I do so hate unnecessary bloodshed.”

The man slowly sits back down, trembling a little. Signora Falzone is not particularly intimidating in the traditional way, but it is that beautiful, gentle smile at odds with the weapon in her hand that is frightening in its own right. It is evident she is not bluffing, and that she knows perfectly well what she is doing.

Dante returns shortly, raising an eyebrow at the scenario before him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks lightly, though his eyes are entirely knowing as Lili puts her gun away.

She smiles beatifically at him.

“Yes, of course,” she says smoothly, gesturing for him to continue the meeting, “Everything is under control.”

Lili sets the bouquet down on the grave, then leans into Dante’s side. He puts an arm around her waist, tugging her a little closer for his own comfort. They stare at the names etched onto the stone for a while.

“Thank you,” Dante says, “For coming with me, every Wednesday.”

Lili puts a hand on his chest and leans up to press a brief kiss to his lips.

“I like to,” she protests, leaning her head against him. “I…would have liked to meet them, your parents.”

“They would have liked you,” Dante assures her, and Lili smiles again. “My mother in particular would have been delighted.”

“Oh?”

“How could she not be?” Dante chuckles, and Lili blushes a little. “And even though my father was not predisposed to show his feelings…he would have been very proud of you, Liliana.”

“Just as he would have been proud of you, Dante,” Lili replies.

They smile at each other, and share a brief kiss before they depart.

They opt for a walk through Falce before they return to the mansion, spending the last hours of the early morning in leisure. Around them, the district is starting to wake up; shopkeepers are coming out to flip their signs or set out their wares, men and women on their way to work or beginning their errands.

“Buongiorno!” they call, as Dante and Lili walk by arm-in-arm.

“Buongiono!” Lili greets back, as Dante nods in acknowledgement.

More and more people greet them as they continue down the streets, some of them making quick conversation with Lili. They do not linger due to Dante’s presence, and it is not that they ignore him either, but it is evident that Liliana is the one who has truly made their acquaintance, and whom they feel at ease with. She does not roam about as often anymore, so while she is not necessarily a rare sight, she is always a welcome one.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, shopkeepers call out to market their wares.

“Signora Falzone! I have freshly baked bread, come have a taste!”

“No, no, come look at my fresh fruits, Signora Falzone!”

“Signora Falzone, how about some flowers for the home?”

Lili demurs all of them with firm but good-natured ease, and Dante watches with amusement.

“Next time, perhaps. We really must get going,” she tells them all laughingly, and Dante inclines his head in polite farewell.

They go on their way, though the friendly calls and greetings continue; Signora Falzone permeates the air like a prayer.

Liliana walks on with her husband, as the streets of Falce hail the name she wears with ease.

#piofiore #piofiore no banshou #piofiore fated memories #dante falzone #liliana adornato #nicola francesca #fanfiction #i expect like two people at most to read this but i had such fun writing this!!!!!#nicola is my top fave but dante is a close second hehe

57 notes · View notes

365days365movies · 4 years

Text

February 19, 2021: The Phantom of the Opera (2004) (Part 1)

I love musicals.

Hands down, when talking cinematic adaptations of musicals, my favorite is Little Shop of Horrors. I’ve seen it MANY times, and will see it many, MANY more. And I’m not the only one. I mean, obviously, but in this case, I’m referring to my girlfriend. She’s chosen to represent herself with a GIF from her favorite musical, Hairspray. So, here she is:

Ravishing. Now, because it’s currently our anniversary, I let her pick today’s movie from my list. And so, she chose a musical that neither she nor I have seen: 2004′s The Phantom of the Opera. And some of you may now be saying, “What, this guy said he liked movie musicals, and he hasn’t seen TPotS? That’s like saying you haven’t seen Grease, or Singin’’ in the Rain, or, PFFT, West Side Story!”

...About that...

Yeah, yeah, I know! It’s insane, and I’m a hypocrite. I’ll be getting to the rest of those eventually, and one of them’ll be coming in the next couple of days, I promise. You can probably guess which one. Anyway, fact of the matter is that we’re gonna watch it tonight, and I’m looking forward to it.

However, there’s another factor to this, and that’s the fact that this film...doesn’t have the best reputation amongst fans of the original musical. And, yeah, this should ideally be the Michael Crawford version, but the Butler version is the one I have access to, so we’re going for it. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Paris, 1919, back when the whole city was in black-and-white for a year. They lost the budget for color after World War I. Anyway, at an old opera house, an auction is taking place, and items found within the theater are for sale. One of these is a music box with a monkey on it, an item which sponsors a bidding war between an older woman, and an older man in a wheelchair. I’m sure we’ll find out who they are eventually.

Anyway, a broken chandelier is also up for option, and was involved in the mysterious disaster of the “Phantom of the Opera” fiasco. They turn it on with electric light, and as they raise it to the ceiling, the organist goes fuckin’ NUTS. The song’s so loud that it REVERSES TIME, and we’re now in color, in the year 1870 at the same opera house.

The theatre, managed by the soon-to-retire Monsieur Lefèvre (James Fleet), has just been purchased by Richard Firmin (Ciaran Hinds) and Gilles André (Simon Callow), who are there to observe. On stage, a rehearsal for the opera Hannibal is taking place, and the costume’s are already...like, a LOT, not gonna lie. The headliner for the show is soprano (and drama queen supreme) Carlotta Giudicelli (Minnie Driver), and is being funded by patron Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny (Patrick Wilson).

The background dancers are instructed by Madame Giry (Miranda Richardson), and include her daughter, Meg (Jennifer Ellison), and her adopted daughter, Christine Daaé (Emmy Rossum). As the rehearsal takes place, an accident happens on stage, almost injuring Carlotta. Enraged, she leaves, and refuses to perform.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry finds a letter from the Phantom, who demands his normal monthly salary of 20,000 francs, as for Box 5 to be left open. While the new owners think that this is ridiculous, they also note that it’s pointless without a lead singer for their show.

However, Christine is volunteered, and shows that she is indeed a talented singer. The show goes on, and Christine is a smash, much to Carlotta’s dismay. At this point, Raoul also discovers that this is his long lost childhood friend (and possibly long lost love) Christine, which she also noticed earlier.

But this is because of a mysterious teacher, who sings to her from the walls of the theatre. Meg comes in to congratulate her (through song), and asks who her tutor is. Meg responds...in song (”Angel of Music”).

Afterwards, Madame Giry also congratulates her, and tells her that the Phantom is pleased with her. Right after, Raoul also pays her a visit, and the two reconnect on shared memories of times in an attic in the summer. She tells Raoul that she is visited by an Angel of Music, and cannot go to the dinner that night with him. And the Phantom agrees, as he locks Christine in her room. YIKES.

And as literally every person in the theatre except Christine leaves, the Phantom serenades her, angered by Raoul’s presence, and Christine’s potential dalliance with him (”Mirror”). And through the mirror, he takes her to a mysterious crypt beneath the theatre. And as they sing their strange duet in the form of the title song (”The Phantom of the Opera”)...I try to resist talking about Gerard Butler until later. And it’s hard. It’s SO hard, guys.

But, OK, he takes her away on a...sewer horse...how the FUCK did he get that horse down there? And wait, WAIT, does he put her on that horse to walk her, like, 20 feet to the gondola? Like...WHY DO YOU HAVE THE HORSE? That is...monumentally wasteful. Where do you keep the horse? Does he feed the horse? How much? How often? With what? Does the horse eat the sewer rats? Is there naturally growing sewer hay? Does the Phantom’s salary go towards buying food for the horse, or buying new horses when the original ones DIE OF STARVATION - WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THIS HORSE?!?!? WHOMSTVE THE FUCK

And yes, I love this fuckin’ song (not the singers, but we’ll get there), but this is distracting me alongside the statues of naked men in the sewer, because...well, Joel Schumacher. What can I say, it’s kind of his aesthetic. Anyway, we get officially introduced to the Phantom of the Opera (Gerard Butler), a very handsome-looking man who likes wearing a half-mask.

I say handsome, because the Phantom in this movie, looks...fine. HE LOOKS OK. HE LOOKS LIKE A DUDE WEARING A MASK. What, did somebody throw a hot candle at his face once, and he freaked out over it and ran into the sewers forever...WITH A HORSE? NOT OVER THE HORSE SHIT.

Look, the Phantom is supposed to be HIDEOUSLY scarred. Famously, in one of the film adaptations of Phantom, actor Lon Chaney Jr. purposely distorted his own face using adhesive face in order to play the role of the hideously disfigured character. Now, other versions have just given him severe, and I mean SEVERE burn scars. But behind the mask, Butler looks...fine. HE LOOKS FINE GODDAMMIT. He looks like he’s wearing the mask because it looks edgy and shit.

But OK, what’s happening in the movie? Oh, right, more serenading (”Music of the Night”), with another song that I like quite a bit. This and the previous song were songs Id heard before, and that I’d already had on my playlist. They’re great, what can I say? Now is Butler doing it justice? Ehhhhhhh, we’ll talk about that in the Review.

During this song he kinda seduces her, or attempts to, and also shows her a wedding dress. She sees herself in it and IMMEDIATELY faints, Jesus! Curtain falls on Christine while she’s in a bed, and we go back to her room, where Meg is looking for her. She finds the mirror, and is about to go back there, but her mother finds and stops her.

Meanwhile, stagehand Joseph Buquet (Kevin McNally) tells the chorus girls of the legend of the Phantom, and describes a physical description that doesn’t match him...even a little. We cut back to Christine, who wakes up in what my girlfriend refers to as a “bomb-ass HQ.” Which is fair, let’s be honest. Anyway, she heads over and tries to unmask her new masked lover (?).

He’s not the biggest fan of this, and he emos all over the screen (”Stranger Than You Dreamt It”). And then, as he puts his mask on, we suddenly (and I mean suddenly) jump to 1919, where the old woman, Madame Giry, bids farewell to...wait, that’s Raoul? HOW DOES HE LOOK SO MUCH OLDER THAN HER, WHAT???

Back in the past, inexplicably, the theatre owners and manager sing about the theatre and the Phantom’s demands ("Notes..."), and are soon joined by Raoul, who brings them a separate note, saying not to look for Christina any further. THEN, Carlotta joins them, delivering a letter of her own from the Phantom, warning her not to return to the theatre.

In his letters, he details how his theatre is to be run, threatening a disaster if Christine is not cast in the lead role, and if Carlotta is not cast in a silent role. However, the theatre owners and Carlotta refuse to obey, and Carlotta is cast in the role, as the owners try to appease her (”Prima Donna”).

That night, during a performance of Il Muto, Carlotta’s singing the lead role. Additionally, Box Five is full, and the Phantom is PISSED. So, like a Phantom do, it’s time for some good old fashioned petty revenge! He switches her throat spray, causing her to lose her voice on stage, and causing the audience to laugh when the show ends abruptly. They quickly and publicly recast the role, giving it to Christine instead. Well, mission accomplished by the Phantom! Guess we’re good without retribution. And then he hangs the stagehand.

Well...fuck, man. Realizing that the Phantom is EXTREMELY dangerous, Christine goes to save Raoul, who she...is in a relationship with now? Wait...wait, hold up, the fuck did I miss? I mean, yeah, he probably is gonna kill Raoul, but there is, like, NO lead-up to their connection before this point.

Anyway, as Christine explains that there is a Phantom when Raoul says he doesn’t exist...wait, WHAT? MOTHER FUCKER BUQUET JUST NOT MURDERED IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN????? YOU LITERALLY HEARD THE...you know what? Break. BREAK. This is...this one’s tough.

See you in Part 2!

23 notes · View notes

crimson-mage-02 · 4 years

Text

Burning with Desire

Summary: Five years had past, things had changed with the Titans had grown up and went into separate ways. Until Damian had returned to Jump City from his training and was reunited with Raven, finding himself having with a burning desire he had felt for a long time.

A/N: This fanfic is my very first smut. Please be kind and be considerate with your thoughts and opinions when reading my fanfic. If you do not wish to read it then don’t.

It has been five years since Damian had left to train in the mountains with his father. She let her violet eyes glance at the trees from the spot where she and Damian first spoke to each other. She remembered him going into the Tower for the first time, seeing and felt that he was sad. And the time she had healed him after being injured by Jaime’s beam from the blue beetle. She had seen everything in his head, his past demons, and his memories as he saw everything about her. Her life in Azarath, her mother and Trigon.

Over the years, they grew closer than ever. Their friendship had blossomed into something more that the two had never imagined. It was much more stronger than loneliness and darkness both had inside. After being with the Titans, she found herself more at peace and at ease around Damian, he was the only person that understood her.

She walked around her apartment with Titus walking beside her. Just before Damian left, he wanted her to look after him for a while. And five years a really, really, really long time. But she loved looking after him and Titus keeps her company after moving out of the Tower to have her own space.

She still does go to the Tower to visit her friends, her fellow Titans. She knew Jaime has moved in with Traci, Gar and Tara are still living in the Tower, Kori is now married to Dick. Donna and Conner had something going on for years, but nothing happened until they recently had started dating.

Raven walked to the kitchen, grabbing Titus some food for him. She bent down to place the food and water in front of him. “Here you go.” She pet him softly while grabbing her phone, seeing her screensaver was herself and her friends including Damian. He was standing beside her with arms crossed, smiling at her fondly while Gar had his arm around him, grinning. Kori was the one who took this photo and let her have it.

She saw a few texts from the girls. She frowned seeing that they haven’t heard from Damian yet either. She frowned began to think he had forgotten about her and his second family. “Alright, I should get ready for the day.”

Raven stood back up and walked back to her room to get changed. She wore black leggings with a purple-blue top and had a black leather jacket with her hair up in a ponytail. She wore her light pink lip gloss and had golden earrings with a purple jewel in the centre. It was the last gift that Damian had given her before he went for his training.

She made sure to lock the door before she went off to work. After moving out, she started to work in a book café. It calms her down and she loved reading books in her spare time. She drove to work only to find out Kori was already there. “Oh, Raven! Hello.” Kori greeted her happily.

“Hello, Kori, do you want the usual order?” Raven asked with a smile.

“Oh yes please.” Kori smiled brightly.

Raven nodded and went to the back to put her bag in her locker and put on a apron before she make Kori’s order. She was also watching the news seeing that Bruce Wayne had returned to Gotham city after disappearing. She knew why, he was with Damian for training, for almost five years. No news about Damian. Typical.

“Here, one hot mocha and a strawberry cake.” Raven smiled at Kori.

“Thank you. And I couldn’t believe Dick was right, he is really back.” Kori said, watching the news. “But Damian hasn’t been announced that he is back.”

“No, probably still is training.” Raven said softly with bitterness. Kori frowned while eating her cake. She knew that the separation was hard. They had been in contact in the first two years of his training and then after that, he had stopped. They thought the reason was he was training hard as he could to become more of an efficient leader and most trusted member of the Titans. But his friends did understand the meaning of training with the big Bat when he is considering in retiring.

“Raven, I know Damian is not a man with words but through his actions, he does truly care about us, about you. I am sure he does have a very good reason why he stopped contacting us.” Kori reasoned while sipping on the hot mocha.

Raven nodded with a soft smile. Then her co-worker had asked her for help and immediately went back to work. She has taken both the morning and evening shift. She needed the money to pay the rent and it keeps her busy during the day. On weekends, she normally hangs out with the girls to rest up from all of her hard work.

She sometimes hang out with the rest of the Titans and often they ask her about Damian. She gives them short answers until he had stopped contacting her. She always wondered if his training had already stopped or he was ignoring her. She pulled her hair into a messy half bun and served her customer their food and drinks.

(~)

Meanwhile in a private plane, Dick was looking at his computers and smiled when a message came through seeing his daughter Mar’i in a photo, taken my Kori. He beamed with pride seeing his little daughter in a Nightwing mini costume.

“She’s all grown up looking like her mother every day.” A deep voice interrupted his train of thoughts making Dick looking up and grinned.

“Of course. She has. It has been five years already. And look Kori also had made her to be fitted in a Robin onesie too.” Dick chuckled, showing him another photo of his daughter. “Well, isn’t that adorable, Dami?”

“I thought we went through this, Dick. Do not call me that please.” Damian chuckled, sitting on a chair opposite where Dick was sitting. He is now wearing a black shirt with a leather jacket and wore blue jeans.

“Sorry, habits. I mean, you are all grown up and even taller than me and Bruce. I cannot wait to see everyone’s reactions would be. Especially Raven’s.” Dick laughed wholeheartedly with Damian looking away from him with a expression of guilt.

“Oh, sorry, Damian. Uh, Alfred had told me that you two stopped contacting each other year ago.” Dick apologised quickly.

“It is quite alright. I just miss her, and I don’t want to be a failure in her eyes.” Damian said softly, looking out of the window in the private plane.

“Well, we are on our way back to Gotham and you’ll be seeing her. She doesn’t know that, and you can tell her once you seen her.” Dick said to him.

“Yes, indeed.” Alfred came into the room and poured some tea for the two men.

“Alfred, please, rest up. I can handle it.” Damian offered kindly and poured some tea for him.

“Thank you, Master Damian.” Alfred smiled, accepting the tea Damian had poured for him. he rested easily in his chair. “It has been a very long time since you had seen Miss Roth. She is a very gorgeous woman.”

“Yeah, no wonder you two always talk to each other a lot before. Ahh to be young and in love.” Dick sighed, remembering his days with Kori and their moments.

“I am not entirely sure Raven wants to rekindle our relationship. It will take a long time to amend things.” Damian reminded the two as he clasped his hands together. “I doubt she’ll remember me all this time.”

“Master Damian, I assure you that Miss Roth does care about you, sir. You just need to tell her the truth.” Alfred pointed out with a weary smile and drank his tea.

“Also, just be patient with her. Just take it slowly and talk to her.” Dick smiled at his brother. “So, ready to go back? We are almost in.”

Meanwhile in the café, Raven was cleaning up the last table of the night. She has been cleaning and clearing the tables. As well as putting all of the chairs on the table. “Thank you, Rachel! Sorry to keep you late at night.” Her boss apologised.

“No, no. Thank you. I needed this and besides, we were short on staff today. I don’t mind working late for you.” Raven smiled.

“Still, I feel bad. How about you take the rest of the week off? It will do you good.” Her boss smiled. They said their goodbyes with Raven walking out of the café and sighed deeply. She looked at her phone seeing more texts from Tara.

She raised an eyebrow and then saw a dozens of texts messages. She scrolled down and then her eyes widened in shock. She looked at the messages over and over. She cannot believe her eyes. Damian really came back from his five-year training! Her thoughts were all over the place and shut her phone off before teleporting her things to her apartment and went to an alley to change into her superhero costume.

She flew all the way to the Titans Tower and saw Tara was outside waiting for her. “I have seen your texts. Is it really true?” Raven asked urgently.

“Yes, it is. He’s all the news. He just landed in Gotham City.” Tara nodded, pulling her into the lounge room to hear the tv local news. Telling the story of the return of Damian Wayne’s return to Gotham City and had greeted his father, shaking his hand in front of the press and the cameras.

“Wow, he really has grown to be incredibly handsome.” Tara commented with a grin, nodding in approval seeing his strong and tall composure.

“Hey, Tara!” Gar pouted wile Tara smiled.

“Aww, don’t worry, chuckles, you’re my handsome man forever.” Tara chuckled, kissing him on the lips before pulling away to put the plates back on the counter. “Rach, don’t worry, I am sure everything will be back to normal. I’m sure he’ll come and visit.”

“I’ll help T. And Raven, we all are aware of what happened between the two of you, but it will help if you just talk.” Garfield said before he helped his girlfriend cleaning up the kitchen.

(~)

The next morning, Raven woke up to hearing Titus barking. She groaned and laughed, feeling him licking her face. “Oh! Come on! Okay! I’m up. I’m up.” She got up and then got the covers off of her. She walked towards her door and followed Titus into the living room to make breakfast for the both of them.

She bent down and pet Titus. “I have big news for you, big fella. Damian is back.” Raven said with Titus whined and tilted his head, licking her cheek. “Yeah, he is back, alright. After five long years.”

She made herself some tea and eggs with bread, sitting on her sofa, watching the news. Titus was sleeping beside her while she watched. “It has been said that Damian is now inheriting the Wayne Enterprises, taking over his father’s role.”

Raven remembered how Damian never wanted to inherit the company but now he is in charge of Wayne Enterprises, if he is happy then, he is happy. She’ll let him do whatever makes him happy. SH checked her phone and saw she was needed at the Tower.

Once she got that text, she immediately got dressed in her costume. She teleported herself in front of the Tower seeing Dick had come back and announced they have a mission. They were to go to Gotham City and help Batman to take down a few goons.

Raven made a portal for them to walk through with Nightwing leading the team. She flew over the buildings and then heard gun shots from a warehouse and saw people running out. She helped by putting a protective shield around the civilians.

Tara arrived with Raven in the warehouse and saw Batman fighting against Penguin’s goons. Tara used her powers with the rocks trapping the goon from escaping. The rest of the Titans arrived in time in helping the Dark Knight. He punched a few while he saw Raven on the ground, flipping away from the goon and kicked him on the face.

She levitated the boxes and they had hit the goons on the heads with Garfield turning into a gorilla helping Blue Beetle and Traci to round them up. Superboy and Wonder girl managed to get the remaining goons and tied them up with Donna’s lasso.

Conner smirked and crossed his arms. “Well, this was nice. Can’t remember the last time we all hung out as a team.” They all turned to Nightwing talking to Batman not far from them. “Since when Batman smiles…. Wait… no way!” Conner exclaimed in shock as he took a step back.

“What is it?” Donna asked.

“It’s… It’s….” Conner didn’t get the words out of his mouth until he watched Batman taking off his mask, revealing Damian wearing his father’s costume. Everyone gasped in shock with Gar fainted and fell on the ground.

“Dios Mio!” Jaime exclaimed in shock, looking at his former leader. Raven stood in shock with Tara by her side. She cannot believe her own very eyes, seeing Damian back in his father’s uniform as Batman, the Dark Knight.

“Hello, everyone.” Damian shown them his signature smirk and then it disappeared once he saw Raven standing next to Tara. He was both thrilled and nervous meeting her after 5 years. He was still enchanted by her beauty and calming presence. He has so many things to say to her. So many things he wanted to fix with her.

“H-Hey, Damian. It is great to see you buddy, and taller!” Jaime chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck, looking at how much his grown and how more muscular he is now.

“Yeah, now I can you Macho Muscles.” Tara chuckled with Donna laughing softly, silently agreeing with her.Gar managed to get up and looked at his muscles. They weren’t as muscular as Damian and pouted.

“So, how was training?” Conner asked excitedly wrapping an arm around his friend.

“Alright, we can talk about this after we get these guys arrested and then you all can catch up.” Nightwing winked at his brother who slightly glared at him. Damian put back his mask and walked beside his brother when the police had arrived.

Conner and Jaime handed the bad guys to the police with the girls helping the civilians as they all stared at Batman in awe. Raven watched closely and saw Damian going down to the kids level and talked to them. She was shocked to see how he was so calm around children now. It warmed her heart and was happy to see such a great development after 5 years.

She saw him finishing his interaction with the children and Gordan talked to him, thanking him before he walked away. Damian and Raven at last, looked at each other. He walked towards her and she was looking up at him. “Shall we talk some—” Damian heard his father was talking to him by a comm.

“Sorry, yes father…. Right away.” Damian sighed and looked down at the sorceress in front of him and looked at his friends. “Titans. How about one last mission and then we can all catch up for dinner?”

They all went back to Jump City and fought against criminals and had saved a few civilians from a burning building. Raven used her powers and summoned all water to put out the fire while Damian as Batman got a few people out of the building with the help of Superboy.

The building was falling down with Terra helped moving the rocks from the ground to prevent the upper part of the building not to fall down on other people while Jaime and Traci got the people out of the way. Once the fire had died out by the firefighter and the ambulance had come to their aid with the Titans and Batman stood by, seeing they were safe.

After a few minutes, Garfield’s stomach had rumbled loudly. It was loud enough for them to hear. Damian chuckled in amusement seeing his friends hasn’t changed that much and looked over at Raven who was giving back a doll to a little girl with a gentle and kind smile.

“So, aiming to get her back in your life?” Conner asked him.

Damian looked at him with an eyebrow’s furrowed together. “I… I don’t want to mess things up.”

“You won’t. Just talk to her, man. Anyway, Tara and I are going to cook a whole huge feast now that you’re here.” Gar grinned.

“Should we really trust him cooking our food?” Damian asked, looking at Jaime.

He just smiled nervously. “Don’t worry, Terra was the only one who cooked their meals.”

(~)

In the Titans Tower, Damian was changing out in his normal clothes in his old room. He forgotten how small it was. He smiled, remembering how he’d always train in his room and remembering the first time he saw Raven meditating down below underneath the tree.

He heard a knock on his door and turned to the door. “Come in.” The door opened and saw Raven in her purple shirt with a mini skirt with stockings. She stopped when she saw him shirtless, his strong muscles flexing while putting on his black t-shirt on.

“Uh, sorry, I was uh, telling you that dinner is almost ready.” Raven said timidly while Titus came in barking. Damian’s face lit up seeing his dog after a very long time as he licked his face. he almost fell on the floor. “Titus, behave.” Raven smiled a bit.

“Thank you for looking after him.” Damian thanked her while petting his dog.

“It was no problem. I love looking after him and his company in my apartment.” Raven replied with a smile. Damian looked up at her in confusion. He thought she was still living in the Tower after he had left for training.

“You are not living here anymore?” Damian asked, standing up.

“Yeah, I moved to an apartment in the city. And I am working in a book café.” Raven nodded while Titus was licking her hands.

“Oh, well, as long as you are happy.” Damian smiled at her and then they both heard Donna knocking on the door, announcing dinner was ready. They all walked down in the dining room, seeing the table decorated with some dinner cloths and the table has been changed from a white to a black dining table.

Damian was impressed by the meals Tara had cooked and Garfield was helping out, placing the food on the table. He noticed how Conner and Donna were on the balcony, talking and flirting with each other. And he was mostly surprised Jaime managed to finally have a girlfriend of his own.

“Alright, everyone, dinner time!” Tara smiled, sitting next to Gar. Everyone dug right in eating everything with their hearts contents. Damian was sitting next to Raven who was feeding Titus who was sitting down next to her chair. Dick and Kori arrived with some dessert. Mar’i came running towards Damian who carried her and let her sit on his lap. Everyone were happily chatting and catching up with Damian and him telling them about his training.

Dinner was over, Mar’i was already asleep with Titus sleeping next to her on the couch. Damian smiled at the little one with Dick sitting next to him smiling proudly and fondly at his daughter. “you should be proud, brother.”

“I am proud. Kori and I were having the life. The best in fact.” Dick chuckled wholeheartedly. “You know, you can have that life too, with Raven.”

The new Batman glanced at Raven who was helping washing the dishes with Kori and Tara. He frowned. “She must be mad at me not responding at all.”

“What? I’m sure she’ll understand.” Dick assured him while drinking his beer.

Dick and Kori had got Mar’i, managed not to disturb her sleep and decided to go back to their apartment. Tara already cleaned up her kitchen and let Raven and Damian off. “Thank you. The food was delicious, Tara.” Raven smiled.

“Yes, thank you.” Damian nodded in agreement.

“You’re welcome, you two. And Damian, do me a favour, please take Raven home safely.” Tara winked as the empath blushed bright pink.

The two walked out of the Tower seeing a car out in the front. Raven looked over at Damian who got out his car keys and started the car. He glanced over at Raven who was walking past him with a portal opening. “W-well, good night.” Raven timidly said to the new Dark Knight and was about to walk through the portal.

“Wait!” She turned back to see Damian was looking the right words. But nothing came out of his mouth. He rubbed his neck and before looking at Raven who stood patiently with her black and red ombre hair blowing in the wind gently while her eyes sparkle underneath the night sky.

She looked onto his emerald eyes, there were beautiful, and she’d always get lost in his emerald eyes. She watched him putting his hands in his pockets. “I thought we could talk.” Damian said to her.

“Yes. We could talk for a bit.” Raven nodded slowly.

“Well then, you may hop in my car.” Damian said as he walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door for her like a gentleman. Raven walked towards the car slowly and then went inside with him closing it.

Damian drove in an underground carpark underneath an apartment. He led raven and Titus the elevator, she noticed it goes all the way to the top. The very top of the building. Once the doors opened, she could see the whole city. Just before they went to his apartment, Raven gotten a few spare clothes and her books. She looked at the breathtaking view from outside of the window. She could see all of the lights in Jump City.

“It is not much like my father’s but, it will do.” Damian said, placing his luggage on the couch. “I hope it is alright.”

“It is rather a beautiful view from up here.” Raven smiled, looking out of the window. Damian smiled softly and walked towards her. Feeling that they were slowly opening up to each other after being apart for a very long time.

“I should apologise.” Damian apologised, putting his hands behind his back, looking out of the window by her side.

“For what?” Raven asked even though she knew what he was going to say and how he felt.

“Not being able to contact you. I was…. So solely focused on with my training. Not telling what was my reason for not contacting you sooner.” Damian explained looking down at her.

“Damian, it is fine. You just wanted to prove to your father that you’re not a failure and have no interruptions.” Raven said looking away with a frown and hugged herself.

“That was the reason and there was another.” Damian said turning his whole body away from the window, making him facing her completely. “I didn’t want you to think of me as a failure. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Raven looked up at him and her expression softened. She reached to caress his strong jaw, cheeks and looked into his charming emerald eyes. Damian let out ragged breaths looking into her violet eyes until he leaned down and planted a gentle, soft kiss with her placing her small hands on his chest.

They kissed deeply with them exploring each other’s mouth. Damian wrapped his arms around her waist, grabbed her thighs, making her wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her carefully, feeling her soft curves, exploring her whole body, and massaged, groping her ass with her moaning with satisfied pressure. He sat down on his couch, devouring her lips, tasting blueberry flavour from her.

She panted softly with him peppered her neck with soft kisses with her holding onto him tightly, biting her lip. He kept on feeling every bit of her body and he pulled away from her neck, panting heavily and looked into her eyes and went to lean in for another kiss but she brushed her fingers on his lips, stopping him from doing so.

“Um, sorry, uh, it’s not that I don’t want to continue… I just want to freshen up first…. If that’s alright.” Raven half whispered and panted, looking at him while pressing her forehead on his.

“Of course, you may. There’s a shower upstairs on your left.” Damian whispered back, letting her got off of him and let her take a shower first. She quickly grabbed her clothes and ran up the stairs and she bit her lips excitedly, running up the stairs.

Damian chuckled in amusement, seeing her running up the stairs with an ecstatic smile. He stood up and went to get his stuff away in his new room. It was spacious and had two cardboards. He opened the doors to the cardboards and placed his shirts and his pants inside. He heard whining from Titus who tugged on his pants. “Okay, okay, buddy. I can show you your new place to sleep.”

He led Titus to a small space in the lounge and shown him his little bed. He wagged his tail happily and started to play with his toy. Damian also sorted out his items and looked at the time, it was getting late and he should take a shower as well, only to notice that Raven has been in the shower for a very long time.

Raven sighed softly and felt the warm water touching her skin and melted. She loved the shower he had in his new apartment. His bathroom was…. All black and the lights inside the shower was dimmed in a lighter shade of blue. The toilet seat was not far from the shower as it was adjacent to the sink.

Next to the shower was the large silver bathtub and then the door, the only entrance and exit of the bathroom. She was surprised at how large the bathroom was. As expected, he was the rich son of Bruce Wayne. Just like Dick but he still chose a normal lifestyle he wanted to live in for his growing family. She wondered if she could ever have that kind of life.

She heard the doors opening and she quickly covered herself with her purple towel and saw Damian leaning on the door frame with a smirk on his face. “Damian! Get out! I-I’m trying to take a shower and your…… naked!” Raven exclaimed as she turned away from him after a few good seconds of staring at his…….. Oh Azar! His… his….

“Sorry Rachel, I thought you were in the guest room’s toilet.” Damian chuckled, covering his waist with a spare towel that was hanging on the railing on the wall near the door.

“And I thought this was the guest room.” Raven thought, turning to him again and covered herself with her drenched towel. She took a good look at his muscles, broad chest and his scars on his arms, neck, and chest.

“You like what you see, Roth?” Damian smirked with his dangerously glowing and charming green eyes stared into hers.

“Yes, I-I mean n-No!” Raven stammered, turning away from him. “Ca-Can you please let me shower in peace?”

Damian hummed softly and walked slowly toward the shower, opened the door with the water hitting his chest and looked at Raven’s small figure as she turned around. Seeing him so up close. He knew she was still processing that he had came back after five years and won’t do anything further to make her uncomfortable.

She trailed her fingers along his arms, his biceps and her eyes were locked with his. She eventually threw her towel away and let him see her hourglass body and her breasts. He let his hand wonder around her figure, and he placed gentle kisses on her neck and at the same time closing the shower door.

Raven held his face in her hands with her kissing his lips softly yet firm with his arms on her waist. Damian moaned and melted in the kiss, she was a bit shorter than him, he lifted her again and had his hand caressing the back of her head and pinned her on the wall of the shower. They kissed and devoured each other, he licked her neck and ears with her whimpering, holding his shoulders.

She wrapped her legs around his waist with her caressing his face and neck as they kissed deeply, exploring their tongues, the taste of their lips. Damian kissed and bit her bottom lip and stared into her eyes. She trembled in place, but his soft touch had comforted her silently that he will stop if he did made her feel uncomfortable.

She trusts him as he trusts her with all of their hearts. She breathed out shakily with him slowly trailing his kisses and then groped and massaged her breasts gently with her biting her lips. She let out a soft gasp, holding him closely to her chest. “D-Dami.”

Damian licked her nipple making her whine and moan loudly, she covered her mouth immediately. He smirked and pulled her hand away. “Please, I want to hear that soft angelic voice.” Damian grinned, licking her face and her right ear.

She growled softly. “I….am a half demon… not an angel, if I must remind you again.”

“You may be a half demon… but you are so much more than. You’re an angel. My angel.” Damian confessed softly, putting her strands of wet hair out of the way. He let her stand on the floor and he let her be in control.

She explored all of his scars. She gasped softly seeing how large the scar on his chest was. She began kissing his chest with him groaning softly. Caressing her head while she kissed every scar she could find on his body. She pinned him on the other wall below the shower head. Both of them were drenched with water running on them. She felt his muscles and then let her hand explore his manhood. He grunted softly feeling her massaging it softly.

She bent down and started to lick it slowly as she began to suck it. Damian grunted while holding her hand. “R-Rachel.” She moaned and licked every bit of him, she began squeezing his legs while sucking and licking his dick.

Damian groaned softly thinking how she could lick it so passionately and effortlessly. He looked down seeing her wiping her mouth, seeing how much he came. He sighed in pleasure and panted softly with her standing up again, kissing him on the lips deeply while she stroked his dick slowly and steady.

“You really do like that, don’t you?” Raven whispered, against his lips while his tongue slipped in her mouth, moaned. She rubbed her legs together against his cock. She watched his reactions while she slowly grind against him in a steady rhythm. He looked into her eyes and looked into his eyes once again as if she couldn’t wait.

He looked at her with a serious expression and held out his hand out to her. She gladly accepted and held his hand. He turned off the faucet, ran his hand through his slicked wet hair. Damian and Raven kept making out until they both stumbled towards the sink with him lifting her up, Raven played with his locks, moaning into the kiss.

He opened the door and led her to his bed room with the lights off and lamps on but dimmed with the colour blue and red mixed together. Damian sat on the bed with her intertwined their hands together and she pinned him on his bed before kissing him again. She pulled back again, looking at him while he stares at her. She held his hands, never letting go of them and placed them on her chest.

Damian sat up and licked every part of her chest and neck with his dick sticking out in front of her clit. She moaned and sighed softly, tilting her head back. He kissed and licked he rub cage while rubbing and massaged her breasts, this time little bit more rough.

His eyes looked up again with her kissing his forehead and cheeks, biting, and licking his ear. He held small body with his strong arms. He rubbed his dick in her clit, making her shouting out and murmuring words. “Sorry, you don’t want to do this?” Damian panted, caressing both sides of her cheeks.

He heard her mumbled something underneath her breath. “What is it?” Damian asked again, looking at her, having his full attention on her.

“You can do it. Put it in.” Raven replied. “But with protection, please.”

He nodded in understanding as he let her get off his lap and walked to his cupboard, getting a condom while watching her every move. She laid her back on his bed, legs spread wide open. He gotten hard again and crawled on the bed again, his eyes went straight at her clit and began licking it while he massaged her breasts. She moaned loudly, biting her lips and tilted her head while he began to lick it with passion and inserted a finger, making her shouting out, holding his sheets tightly while feeling so good from his touch that made her shudder.

He smirked, putting one more and made her cum with covering his fingers, making her humping into his hand. He sat up on his knees with her looking up at him with an embarrassed look. He was enjoying watching her reactions, seeing her beautiful body in front of him. He was grateful that he was going to make her his.

He placed rubbed his cock against her clit, making her moan again and rubbed against it. She looked into his eyes and trailed her fingers on his abs and scars that were covered in sweat until she felt his cock was going in quickly and she shouted out both in pain and pleasure with digging her long nails on his back with him hugging her tightly with their chests touching one another.

They both panted heavily and looked at one another. “C-Can I move now? If you want me to stop, you can just shove me, Rachel.” Damian assured her until he felt her pulling him into her strong hold.

“No. Keep moving.” Raven trembled and whispered in his ear. Damian wasted no time and began grinding and thrusting softly. “D-Dami.” She could feel it twitching inside of her. He began to pick up the pace hearing her loud cries while holding her in his arms.

He let her go and pinned both of her wrists on the bed and with every thrust he made. Made her feel like she was in the stars and in heaven. He panted heavily and grunted with every thrust he made. He gritted his teeth and lifted her up, sat down on the bed with her wrapping her arms around his neck, began to thrust harder and faster with her shouting out in pleasure and scratching his back.

They both leaned for one final kiss and with a few thrusts, they both grunted and shouted with her back arched with her legs wrapped around his waist. She had Damian’s face buried in her chest. They both laid down back on the bed, panting tiredly with sweat all over their body and their bodies intertwined with each other. Damian laid on his pillow, watching his beloved to sleep and he pulled the covers on them and fell into deep sleep with content smiles.

(~)

Raven woke up and opened her eyes slowly seeing a naked scarred chest. She looked up to see Damian already up, staring at her. She covered herself but still smiled at him, caressing his cheek while he kissed her palm. “Good morning, beloved.”

“Good morning, Dami.” Raven smiled lovingly at him.

“Hope it was okay.” Damian hoped while playing with her hair.

She looked at him in confusion until she figured what he had meant, and she smiled at him in reassurance. “Dami… it was the best night of my life. And you were more than okay.” She trailed her fingers over his lips with his emerald eyes shining brightly.

He smiled in relief, seeing his love was satisfied from last night’s…. activity. “That is a relief.” He sat up on his bed. “So… what shall we do today? Unless you have work later on.”

“Hmm, well, my boss let me have the week off. How about you?” Raven asked, making circles on his chest. “We could have dinner at my place and have a repeat at my place. We can have Titus with Dick and Kori.”

“I am off until tonight, I am meeting my father later. Sorry.” Damian sent her an apologetic expression with her sitting up, letting him seeing her chest.

“It’s alright, I can wait for you…unless you want to do it again.” Raven seductively whispered in his ear while kissing his neck and him laying down back on his pillow with a smirk. She was straddling him, and she trailed her hands up on his chest, making him shudder softly.

“That would be splendid, beloved.” Damian smirked with her smiling brightly as the two laughed happily as they were in each other’s arms after five years, happy to be in each other’s embrace and were assured that they’ll be together from now on to overcome whatever throws at them.

#damirae #fanfiction #my fanfiction #Damian Wayne #raven]#damian x raven #garfield x terra #jaime reyes #traci thirteen #Donna Troy #superboy #nightwing #starfire #Teen Titans

72 notes · View notes

scabopolis · 3 years

Note

C A T S (i saw you already did a so give me another pairing or talk some more about them. u know who)

C - A ship you have never liked and probably absolutely never will.

Oh man. There are too many to name them all (I might be slow to warm up to a ship, but once my embers of hatred are set aflame, they never go out).

Duncan x Veronica (Veronica Mars): Setting aside the “he thought she was his sister and sexed her anyway” element, which that is a wild statement to write, he’s just such a slice of American cheese trying to convince the world he’s brie. SHUT UP, DUNCAN! YOU’RE NOT A SLICE OF BRIE! I WOULD NEVER HAVE YOU WITH HONEY AND APPLES.

Jane x Rafael (Jane the Virgin): This one is tricky for me, man, because I have a hard time explaining why it didn’t work for me. I think I resented the way the writers setup a false equivocation between Michael and Rafe - that Michael was the fun safe one and that Rafael was the passionate edgy one. I think it did a big disservice to both Rafael and Michael.

Chuck x Blair (Gossip Girl): Back when Gossip Girl came out, my friend was a big fan, I’d never seen it, and she had the first season on DVD. We had a girls weekend in Portland and ordered room service and watched the first several episodes of s1 and I hated Chuck on sight and kept hating him. And my friend kept telling me he got better and I kept waiting and kept hating him. So...I do not want to see his marble mouth face on my TV and I do not want to see him messing with my girl Blair who might be one of the greatest TV characters from the past 15 years. No further questions.

Others include Katniss x Gale (The Hunger Games), Dawson x Joey (Dawson’s Creek), Ted x Robin (How I Met Your Mother), Cristina x Owen (Grey’s Anatomy), Dan x Vanessa (Gossip Girl), Fez x Jackie (That 70s Show), Josh x Donna (The West Wing, just going to sneak this one in and hope no one notices), etc. etc. etc.

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Alright. I know what you want. To quote one of the Olsen twins in the cinematic masterpiece It Takes Two, “I can see right through!”

Let’s talk Will Cooper and Angie D’Amato from the cancelled too soon show Single Parents (I have gotten 3 people hooked on this show and I will not rest until my reign of terror widens).

There’s a blithers fic for Will x Angie (that you, @thelillykane absolutely need to read!!!) that includes an incredible description of who Will is from Angie’s POV:

Will isn’t the type of guy she’s normally into. He isn’t some tall skinny dude with amazing hair and/or the ability to scream-sing his feelings into an unfeeling world. Will is a big old goofball of a dad, dependable and kind and sometimes manic, with undercurrents of a real weirdness that Angie gets such a kick out of every time she taps into them. Will is intense about the things he cares about, but he doesn’t write cryptic songs about his repressed man-emotions or play guitar while looking soulful about it or anything awesome like that. Will acts on his feelings. He organizes and works and makes life better for the people he cares about.

And it’s that undercurrent of weirdness that Angie sees in Will and that Will sees in Angie that unites them and that I love. Yes, Angie is predisposed to think the worst of people and Will is predisposed to see the best. But! they are both giant weirdos who absolutely are like “yes, when one has transgressed in friendship, the thing one buys to make up for it are giant turkey legs.”

I think the series focuses more on how Will’s labradoodleness betters Angie’s life, but I also see so many ways that Angie’s skepticism of the world would be good for Will - “not everything always works out, dude, and you have to find a way to be okay when it doesn’t.” And also, like, Will gets Angie. I think from the Pilot episode, he sees that her bossiness and meanness and zero tolerance for nonsense is how she cares. Most importantly! It works for Will to have that in his life! Because otherwise he never would have stopped wearing zip-off short cargo pants. He would still be carrying that mermaid bag around. He might have convinced himself to give his marriage with Mia another shot, etc. etc. etc.

Anyway, I probably just need to write my fic about them to get my feelings out.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Not really, I’m afraid. So utterly boring, I know. Idk, man, send me an example of a headcanon you’d die defending? I feel like the things I get heated about are when I feel canon is interpreted in a way I don’t agree with.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Single Parents: You and I have talked about this, but Will does not remember what he said to Angie. There’s no possible way. And Angie absolutely rides out the summer in Barstow because there’s no way she’s confronting her complicated feelings head on. Hell no.

Veronica Mars: This one’s for you, girl, but Lilly Kane would have been fine if she’d lived past 16-years old. I don’t think she would have been a forever giant hedonist or super destructive, because her acting out had a very clear origin. And I think her getting out of that house, getting away from her parents, getting away from Duncan, a lot of that chaos would have cleared in her mind. Yes, she might have always struggled with this feeling of inferiority, but I think she would have been okay.

Once Upon a Time: This is a small silly thing, but I like to think that the reason Emma was never adopted or found a stable foster family was because Regina’s curse reached into the Land Without Magic. Later seasons establish (I think??? I basically haven’t watched 3 seasons of the show) that there is magic in the real world, but it’s dormant and hidden because people don’t believe. Regina’s curse took away the happy endings, and so doesn’t it make sense that it would follow Emma to ensure she also didn’t get her happy ending even separated from her family? I have a premise for a fic in my head where the family she lived with felt this need to return her to the foster care system. That there was a pressing on their chests, a squeezing of their hearts if you will, a voice in their ear whispering to send her back. Instead of listening to it, though, they fight against it. And that’s one of the first moments, right from the start, the love of these adopted parents weakening the curse.

#not tagging all the antis #but...I'll tag #anti-duncan kane #anti-rafael solano #anti-chuck bass #(looking at these three together...I really have a type of man I am NOT HERE FOR)#fandom meme #fandom things #thelillykane

12 notes · View notes

rudemaidenswrite · 4 years

Text

Letters

Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Leatherface x Reader

Part 1

By: @pusantheamazonian For: @sylvanasthebansheequeen

You’ve been sending letters to him ever since you moved. But you never got a response until now.

"This place is a dump. Can't believe you actually lived out here." A scoff comes from the driver. Scott's always been a jerk, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"It's not that bad. The people are what made it the best." You really don't want to argue about this again.

"No, Texas is a shit hole. Good thing you left." Scott cackles.

Against my will.

"Like Mississippi is any better?" Donna chimes in from the front seat.

Ignoring them both and their ignorant bickering. Texas was the best time of your life. That's why you're going back. You have to know if your happiness is still there. A deep itch of finally being almost home. Has you restless as fuck. You can only hope they remember you. It's been fifteen years since that horrible day. But as it turns out, the world is testing you today.

"Can you fix it?" Donna whines as the three of you are on the side of the road, looking at the flat tire.

"Yeah I got a spare in the back. Must have been a nail in the road." Grumbling Scott opens the trunk pulling everything out.

"Well thanks for the lift but I'm gonna bail. I'm just gonna walk the last few miles." Scooping up your backpack, you slowly start walking backwards.

"What? No you can't just abandon us. We don't even know where we are." Donna practically screams in horror.

"In good old Texas. Just keep following this road until it hits the interstate." Forcing a smile you keep backing up.

"Seriously?" Scott stares in disbelief.

"Yup! Thanks for the ride and hope you have fun in California." Waving you turn around and start power walking before they can guilt you into staying.

Freedom! Now it's just you and the land in this long trek. You forgot how eerily silent the town has become. You had heard that the meat plant closed down a few years ago. Hell you'll be surprised if there is anyone still living out here. The plant should have killed everyone, would have saved money if they did it that way. Rather than let the whole town slowly bleed dry.

*Woop Woop*

"Fuck." Whispering you stand by the side of the road and wait. You know that annoying Woop Woop anywhere.

The old sheriff car slows to a stop a few feet from you. The car rattles as he steps out, an old grouchy looking man.

"You lost missy?" The gruffness is matched with a sour look.

"No sir. Just taking a walk." You remain neutral as possible and polite.

"I ain’t seen you around. Where are you from?"

"Rhode Island but-"

"You wouldn't happen to know what happened to the two young'uns a few miles back?" Cutting you off he steps forwards with a purpose.

"What do you mean?" That question peaks your curiosity.

"A ways back looks like car trouble but both are dead."

"What? I left them thirty minutes ago. How can they be dead?" Confused, you don't know what to say. They were alive, bitching at the car but alive.

"So you do know them. Well I think we need to have a talk. Get in the back."

"Sheriff-"

"Get. In." He pulls a pistol out. Pointing at you and the car. Panicking you shuffle towards the door. This situation is not good but what's worse is you can't figure it out but the sheriff looks familiar. The tattoo on his forearm, you know it from somewhere.

Sliding into the back seat you place your backpack beside you. The car stinks, it's a putrid smell. Either something died in here or there's something dead in the trunk.

The Sheriff climbs back into the driver's seat, slamming the door hard. He's not interested in any conversation. Driving in silence he gives you the side eye from the mirror the whole way.

Now this is confusing, he's pulling up to the place you were going.

"Sheriff how-"

"Stay here." Barking out the order with a glare, you nod in response. Leaving you alone in the locked car, he walks inside.

What is going on? You didn't tell anyone that you were coming for a visit. The Sheriff certainly didn't even ask for your name. So how would he know to bring you here?

Leaning on the front seat you can see the house has taken a beating over the years. But it's still the same two story white plantation style house as before.

The loud bang of the front door opening scares you. A massive man wearing a stained apron walks towards you. Keeping his head down the whole way. Retreating into the back seat. Who the hell is this?

Reaching the door, he pauses a second before quickly opening it. Startled by the force you scoot towards the other door. Panic sets in. Suddenly he's grabbing your ankle and dragging you to the edge. Just as you start to fight him, he lets go of you. Curious you risk a glance. You’re staring into chocolate brown eyes. Eyes you know so well, the ones that haunt your dreams.

“Thomas?” Whispering you can't believe it.

He blinks in shock. He never thought you would recognize him. He recognized you instantly.

Out of muscle memory, at the same time you hold your left hand up using the sign language I love you symbol. He is doing the same symbol with his right hand. Pressing them together you both stare, never blinking. Different emotions are flowing in the silence. That is before you throw yourself into his arms.

Falling onto his back he holds you tightly watching your happiness explode. As you babble about how happy you are to see him, how you have missed him to upset that he never answered your letters back to squealing in joy.

“How dare you leave me without a word!” Teasing you can't help the tears. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away. "I’m okay. They're tears of joy, I always hoped that I would see you again.”

Everything is clearer now the rude Sheriff has to be Uncle Charlie. He was always an ass but now with power he's gone a little psycho.

“Thomas quit fuckin around get her inside.” The Sheriff's gruff voice returns.

Speaking of the asshole. Thomas steps in front of you shaking his head no.

“No?”

“Hoyt what's going on?” A faint voice comes from the house.

“Nothing Mama.” He shouts back.

“Hoyt? When did Charlie change his name?” Confused, you practically shout the question out.

“What did you say?” Uncle Charlie, Hoyt whatever he wants to be called questions.

“I asked when did you change your name to Hoyt? I clearly remember calling you Uncle Charlie.” Peeking out from behind Thomas you stare at the man dressed in the Sheriff's outfit. You knew there was something familiar about that tattoo.

A huge arm he pushes you back. Thomas wants you to stay behind him.

“Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Hello!” You peek back out. With a frustrated huff he shoves you behind him again. “Thomas I was just saying hello.”

“Bullshit.” Scoffing, Hoyt can't believe it.

“Uh huh!” Side stepping around Thomas, lifting your shirt up. Exposing the scar on your stomach. The one that dons most of your stomach, separating into three individual scars. You two were playing in the woods when you crawled over a piece of barbed wire. Uncle Charlie had to hold you still while Mama Luda stitched you together.

“I'll be damned. There's never be a girl stupid as you that crawled over barbed wire for fun.”

Frustrated, you watch him laugh. They never did believe you that it was a simple mistake.

“It was an accident!”

“You knew better than to be playing in the woods.” Huffing he remembers the two other people from today. “Well shit, your friends.”

“It's okay. I was only hitching a ride with those assholes." Shrugging if you're being honest they were not your friends. A coworker introduced you to them because you were looking for a ride.

“Asshole? Good riddance then. Common on Mama and Uncle Monty aren't going to believe this.” He nods at the house.

Smiling you interlock your hand with Thomas's and follow Uncle Charlie inside. Pulling Thomas with you. Giddy you can't believe everyone is still here.

"Mama! Uncle Monty! You're never gonna believe who I found." He yells once passing the threshold.

"Hoyt, why are you yelling? There's no yelling in the house!" The scolding voice carries from the kitchen. Followed with the shuffle of two footsteps.

"Mama you remember Y/N." Hoyt smirks.

"Oh my… Y/N is that really you?"

"Yes it's me." Smiling you never thought you could be this happy. Mama Luda and Uncle Monty haven't changed either.

"Well I never! You've grown up so beautifully." She's in tears cradling your face, treating you like glass.

"Thank you."

"You come and talk. Tommy has some work to finish." Hoyt orders interrupting your peace.

Turning you stare at Thomas like he's going to fade to dust right in front of you. You can feel Thomas staring the same way. Neither one of you wants to let go.

"Y/N. Tommy. You can see each other later." Luda takes you free hand in hers.

"Yes Mama." The words tumble out slowly as she tugs you along. Internally screaming you don't want to talk. You just want to hug Tommy until there's no tomorrow. Nonetheless you let her pull you into the kitchen.

Planting you in an empty seat at the table. She pours some lemonade as everyone sits down and you notice that Thomas heads to the basement.

"Now tell me. How are your parents?" Mama Luda scoots her chair closer.

"Both have passed on." It's a somber moment officially talking about it.

"Oh dear. I'm sorry." Instantly she's frowning. You guess she didn't expect that answer.

"Father was eight years ago. Mother last fall."

"What have you been doing since school? There must be something." Trying to sound cheerful she diverts the conversation.

"I'm a mechanic."

"A what?" Mama Luda and Hoyt question in unison.

"You became a mechanic!" Uncle Monty is laughing his ass off. Everyone knows that's something you must have picked up from him.

"That's not fit for a lady." The frown temporarily returns to Mama Luda’s face.

"Mama wasn't happy about it either." Smiling you remember the horrified face she made when you told her. "I was thinking about trying to buy the old house back and maybe open a mechanic shop." Shrugging you take a sip of lemonade.

"Dumb idea no one left out here." Uncle Monty states sourly.

"I know." Smiling it feels good to be home.

After dinner Thomas is showing you to your room, the same room you used to use when you would spend the night. But with each step towards the spare bedroom you feel queasy, you don't want to sleep alone. Grabbing his shirt you insist that he stop for a moment.

"Thomas...Can I stay with you?" He turns, staring at you with wide eyes. Now you feel embarrassed. "You don't have to say yes. I understand that you'll want your personal space. It's just been so long and I have this overwhelming need to be close to you."

With a silent groan he pulls you towards his room. It's just as you remember. The old spring bed, dresser off to the side and the now seemingly too small desk and chair. You place your backpack in the corner. You don't want him to accidentally trip because of your clutter. Leaning you pull out some pajamas.

That's when he sees it. Your shirt rose up and in black ink is his name. It could be anybody's name but in shaky writing is the name Thomas. Before he knows it he has a hand on your hip.

“What are you doing?” Startled, you didn't expect such a warm hand on your hip, especially Thomas's.

Bewildered, he looks at you quickly removing. Pointing at your hip, he pokes it. Following his eyes you see what has him curious, most of your tattoo is showing. Exposing your hip so he can see it completely. Curiously he traces it with a finger with wide eyes.

“Yes I have your name tattooed on my hip.” He gives you a look that you interpret as him asking why. “Because we were always attached at the hip.”

Minutes go by as he processes this, slowly caressing the letters.

“After you left school to work at the plant. I stole some of your homework that the teacher still had. Then when I got old enough I brought with me to the tattoo shop. I wanted it to be in your handwriting.” Embarrassed you've never told anyone the truth about the tattoo. That you wanted it because it was your way of staying sane and remembering the good times. Before he dropped out of school to help support the family and you moving away.

You see him frown slightly as he turns to the closet. Opening it he's searching for something, it's not long before he finds it. His body is trembling as he hands you an old shoe box. You've never seen him this worried about showing you something. Sitting on the bed you carefully open it.

“Oh. My. God. You did receive my letters.” Your heart drops.

Everything's gone numb, you don't know if you exist anymore. The box is filled with everything you ever sent him and things from when you two were little. Picking a letter up you notice the worn edges like it has been read over and over.

“I never knew if you did. I thought that they were ending up in the trash somewhere or to another person.”

Placing it to the side, you see the pictures you have sent with the letters. Most just the yearly school photos but during high school you started to add different candid photos you thought were cute. But there's some old ones, of you two or just him that are burnt. Picking up the least burnt one, you and Thomas are in your Sunday best. Sitting on the front porch with his head resting on your shoulder while the two of you are reading Clifford the Big Red Dog. It looks like someone started to burn his face out but chose against it at the last minute leaving it an obscure dark color.

“You…have no idea how much I've missed you.” Breaking down, you sob uncontrollably. Holding the picture tightly. "Please…. Please don't ever leave me again."

Thomas doesn't know what to do. He never meant to hurt you, he just wanted you safe. He didn't think that ignoring your letters would cause this much pain. Watching you cry feels like a stab to his own heart.

#leatherface x reader #leatherface #slasher #slasher fanfiction #rudemaidenswrite #reader insert #reader #letters #reunite #this is crazy #childhood friends #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #fluff #angst

171 notes · View notes

ambertea · 3 years

Note

Hello!

What are your top 5 quotes?

What are your top 5 pieces of jewellery?

What are your 5 top female characters?

Oh my god you absolute darliiiiing <3

5 favourite quotes:

1. I’m reading Astrophysics for People in a Hurry at the minute and thiiis quote stuck out so much for me: “We are stardust brought to life, then empowered by the universe to figure itself out—and we have only just begun.” I love that it’s so beautiful.

2. “I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.” From Sputnik Sweetheart, just ugh 👏💓 definitely feeling this so hard right now when there’s this tentative step back into socialisation and I can’t quite remember how to be Amber anymore

3. “Let's never come here again because it would never be as much fun.” From Lost in Translation, that film has always meant so much to me and it becomes more so as I get older and it feels like all the brilliant parts of my life are like all these snapshots that were amazing at the time but I know I can never return to, and would never really want to either

4. “Sometimes life’s a bitch and you keep on living.” From Bojack Horseman. Ohhh man. When I saw that for the first time I instantly wanted it tattooed on my body, the only reason I haven’t is bc of lockdowns.

5. I feel like I need to include a ten/rose one because that is essentially what I come to tumblr to spew out 😂😂 and that has to be the “I was inspired” line from the Stone Rose. Just— [screams into the void]

Top 5 jewellery:

Unfortunately I literally never wear jewellery because I am a terrible fidgeter and always end up leaving a trail of jewellery that I’ve scattered behind me. I got a nose ring briefly last year but fiddled with it too much and hurt my nose haha.

Top 5 female characters:

SCREAMS what a great question.

1. Okay so first off Valkyrie Cain from the Skulduggery Pleasant books needs to be on the list. I started reading the books when I was 12, and she was everything I needed to see from a girl when I was that age: she was funny and strong and her entire life wasn’t revolving around men (like most of the other YA fiction of the time.) ALSO as both myself & the character have aged it’s been so helpful for me to see this character that I idolised as a kid go through mental illness and addiction which were things I suffered with terribly for years as a teen, and I found so much comfort in that.

2. Naomi Jones from I Hate Suzie also needs to be on this list because I feel like that character is just a version of my irl self put straight to screen. Always trying to be in control, always acting the mother and caring for other people who are falling apart, and not taking any time to focus on herself, and her own needs and wants. Also it’s so nice to see a bisexual on screen who has sex, and is a sexual being in a way that doesn’t feel gross or portrayed through some male lens that isn’t accurate or kind.

3. Britta Perry from Community!!!! Okay I know a lot of people reallly don’t like her and I get why. But I so relate to her early on, when she desperately wants to do good things and work for charity and be this shiny kind figure, but finding it difficult and expensive and just hard. It’s so easy to be charitable if you’re rich, it’s so hard to be generous when you don’t have much to give in the first place.

4. OK DOCTOR WHO CHARACTERS. Donna fucking Noble. If I had watched Doctor Who for the first time as an adult, she would definitely be my favourite character. I know this character, I’ve met so many people just like Donna. So funny and absolutely brilliant who just have no awareness of it because life and other people have always kicked them down.

5. Alright. You guessed it. It’s Rose Tyler. I think the reason I still love this character so much is what she meant to me as a kid. I lived on a council estate, I didn’t feel especially smart or brilliant, and I didn’t really have much ambition because I didn’t really know what success even looked like in reality. That she was this kind of classic “chavvy” noughties girl who got jealous and petty but was also funny and clever, and so so good with emotional intelligence—that meant so much to me.

I made this waaaay too long sorry!!! But thank you so much for your ask it entertained me for a good chunk of time 😂

#ur brilliant #asks #also sorry if this is formatted weird I don’t rly use tumblr on mobile that much

7 notes · View notes

cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 20

Dinner

Summary: Riley spends the day with her friends at Ramsford, and after Liam returns from the funeral, they enjoy a meal together

Word Count: ~5.7k

A/N: flashbacks are in ~italics~

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here

A/N 2: forgive me for the last post. I clicked “post” from my phone and it literally only posted the title lol

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13

I’m sorry, the tags are being weird and I don’t know if they’re working or not… but I hope I got everyone down! If I missed someone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing, and please excuse any grammatical errors :))

Also just wanted to say thank you for all the likes, reblogs, and comments<3

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Riley -

After the kids and Liam left to attend Regina’s funeral, I introduced Hana to Rowan, and we spent the day talking about their personal lives. I was grateful that neither of them brought up any questions about Theo or my life with him, but throughout the day my mind wandered back to my dead husband.

I missed him, and as much as I wanted to hate that fact... I didn’t. I had to peel myself away from wondering about the details of what happened to him when the bomb went off. Was it a slow death or a quick one? Was he thinking about the kids? Was he trapped? Did he see the guards run through the exhibit as I did?

Being back in Cordonia was beyond surreal. I had dreamed about coming back for years, and the topic was something Theo and I used to argue about a lot. Thinking back to those arguments makes me realize how futile they were: here I am now, no thanks to Theo, and there was no fighting involved in bringing me here.

I jump back to reality after silence spends around me. Hana and Rowan were having a conversation, but they stopped talking and were looking at me inquisitively, a shy smile on Rowan’s face.

“So do you think I should say no?” she asks, looking between Hana and I.

“The court can be a cruel place sometimes,” Hana tells her. “But I can give you some tips to make it easier.”

“Sorry, what were you talking about?” I say. “I zoned out.”

“Um, so,” Rowan begins. “Maxwell asked if I would like to join the court for the Social Season.”

“What?” I make a face. “Really?”

Rowan blushes and looks down. “Yeah, um...”

Hana and I lean forward, waiting for her to continue.

She sighs and her shoulders slump. “I thought he asked me because he wanted to spend more time with me, but I think he’s just concerned about Gabriel and Eleanor having like a support system, y’know?”

“I mean, Gabe and Ella should be fine,” I state. “Liam said he’d look out for them, and I’ll be there, too.”

She looks up at me and tilts her head. “You know that’s what I thought... but then I felt like he might’ve said that because he wanted to spend time with me? Nevermind, that’s dumb.”

“I haven’t seen you two together for long,” Hana jumps in. “But you both seemed quite friendly with one another yesterday evening.”

Rowan laughs to herself. “Yeah, he was showing me a video of a dancing corgi. I thought it was cute and then he started sending me all these dog memes.”

“That’s definitely Maxwell. And if you want, you can join the court for the Social Season.” I reach out to touch her knee. “I know I’ve probably scared you away from it, but your Social Season should be nothing like mine.”

“You’re right,” she answers. “Different circumstances.”

For a moment I wondered why she was so concerned about Maxwell’s reasons behind inviting her to join court, but Savannah interrupts us and says that lunch is ready.

With Hana and Rowan’s help, I managed to hop down the stairs and towards the dining room. Once there, I notice Bertrand sitting at the head of the table, Bartie, Olivia, Maxwell, and Drake sitting next to a woman I didn’t know.

I maintain my balance against a chair and watch her walk up to me. She’s almost as tall as Drake, and her kinky hair is neatly pulled back. “Pleasure to meet you,” she says. “I’m Jessica.”

“Riley,” I say, shaking her hand.

We all take our seats and start our meal. Bertrand mentions that the press have noticed that House Beaumont and House Nevrakis are not in attendance for the Queen Mother’s funeral. Olivia comments, saying that if she could, she would make her disdain towards Regina even more apparent, all because of what she did to Liam.

I look down at my plate, feeling guilty. I was part of Liam’s continued pain — and Gabriel’s, for that matter. If I hadn’t left in the first place, none of us would be in such an awkward position.

The subject shifts towards the upcoming Social Season. Savannah tells us that she’s heard some of the other noble ladies say that there will be some international presence this year.

She continues the discussion with Bertrand and Hana, with a little input from Jessica. She had an accent, and her voice sounded like music; I was fine with staying quiet and listening to her talk. I notice that Drake’s shoulders are oddly tense, though his face is calm. He had told me a bit about his relationship with Jessica, but I wanted to know more.

“Jessica,” I jump into the conversation, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Have you ever gone through the Social Season before?”

She gives a lighthearted laugh and puts her hand on Drake’s arm, who doesn’t react. “Drake has always told me that he thinks I would not enjoy the Social Season.”

“Depends,” he says. “You’d like the fancy parties and ball gowns, but people in the court are two-faced.”

She clicks her tongue. “When has that ever made a difference in one’s life? It’s only negatively impactful if you allow it to be so.” She turns back to her food and continues, “But nevermind that, I’ve decided that I will join for the season this year.”

Drake’s head jerks in her direction, and then I notice him quickly glance towards me.

“Oh, this’ll be my first year, too!” Rowan states. “So both of us will be going through something new.”

“The court can be a delightful place when one has the right companions,” Hana tells them.

For the rest of our meal, a pensive look remains on Drake’s face. After everyone leaves the dining room and I follow Hana and Rowan back to my room, I notice Jessica give Drake a quick kiss before she walks down the driveway and into a Jeep.

Drake walks off, and Maxwell trails behind him, claiming that he was excited to finally get to know his future sister-in-law.

After I reach the top of the stairs, Rowan leans in and says, “Hey, was it just me, or does Jessica look really familiar?”

I recall her face, and try to attach it to someone I may have known during my time in New York. “No,” I tell her.

She shrugs it off and leads me back into my room.

Rowan turns on the TV, and we watch “Game of Thrones” with Hana, whose eyes are glued to the screen. Eventually, Savannah joins us and once in a while Bertrand checks in on us.

He had the staff bring us snacks, and when we were a little more than half-way through the first season, Bertrand tells us that Liam and the kids are probably on their way back.

I throw my legs off the side of the bed and hop towards the bathroom. “I have to get ready for my dinner with Liam.” I tell them.

“You have dinner with His Majesty?” Bertrand exclaims, his eyes going wide.

I stop hopping. “Yeah, he asked me last night before the doctor got here.”

Bertrand looks me up and down and begins to shake his head. “Hurry! There is not nearly enough time to make you presentable! I will go down to the boutique and get you something that would be of King Liam’s preference.”

“I’m not going to be dressing up for his preference!” I try to hop after Bertrand, who is already on his way down the hall. “We’re just going to talk about everything with Gabriel and Eleanor!”

“Nevermind that, blossom!” Maxwell appears from the other end of the hall. “It never hurts to get glammed up!”

Hana pats my shoulder. “I’ll go with Bertrand and make sure he gets something of your style.”

I wanted to tell them to stop, that I had a nice dress in my suitcase, and that would be enough. But I recognize the look in their eyes; there was the same intensity whenever we got ready for an event together, but something was different. There was too much intensity. They not only wanted to do this, they needed it.

I relent, and Hana follows after Bertrand. I go back into the room and manage to take a quick shower.

When Maxwell knocks on the bathroom door, I take a robe and wobble out, coming face-to-face with a green floor-length gown. Hana and Maxwell observe me, waiting for a reaction.

“Isn’t that a little much for dinner?” I ask them.

“It is perfect,” Bertrand states. “Need I remind you, Lady Riley, that royal society strives to uphold sophistication and elegance in every event. This situation is no different, as His Majesty will be dining with you.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Bertrand, I know about all the sophistication and elegance. I’ve dined with royalty before, and have been rubbing elbows with New York’s elite. I’ve had my fair share of practice.”

“That does not mean—” he tries to continue, but Savannah puts her hand on his arm.

“Bertrand, let Riley get changed in peace. Let’s go check if everything is set for her and Liam.”

He turns back and hesitates, but then follows his wife out the room. Another pang of guilt vibrates through me. I imagine that Bertrand’s hard exterior didn’t make it easy for him to get through to Savannah and eventually propose. I wished that I had been there to make everything go through more smoothly... or at least have attended their wedding.

I wobble back into the bathroom with the dress. I lean against the wall and eventually get the dress on. I make some small adjustments, making sure I had put it on correctly, when I hear Hana call out:

“Is it comfortable? Sorry if it is too tight or loose, I gave you the same size that you used to wear during the Engagement Tour.”

“It fits like a glove, Hana!” I call back to her. I look at myself in the mirror, and if not for the faint lines on my forehead and the tired bags under my eyes, I could imagine that I was about to exit into my first Beaumont Bash.

I blink away the memories and stumble out of the bathroom. I don’t pay attention to finding matching shoes, but Rowan helps me tie my hair back into a fashionable braid. While she does that, I put on some makeup, and the time passes by so quickly that I’m shocked when Ella runs into the room screaming, “Hi, Mama!”

She hugs my waist and I draw her in. “You look pretty,” she tells me. I check the door to see if Gabriel followed her, but he isn’t there. Hana, Rowan, and Maxwell send smiles my way, and then leave the room.

I turn my attention back to Ella. “Did you have fun?” I ask her.

“Yeah, we got donuts on the way back!”

“That’s nice.”

She takes a seat at the edge of the bed and watches me finish getting ready. I can see her through the mirror in front of me, and I sometimes give little poses that make her erupt into giggles.

“You look... stunning,” a voice says, taking me by surprise. I jump out of my seat. Even though my leg didn’t hurt anymore, I couldn’t balance on it. Liam rushes forward to help me, grabbing my elbow and then my waist.

His outfit wasn’t as formal as it was when he left this morning, but he still looks every bit regal. I wonder how he changed so quickly. I look up at him, putting my hands on his shoulders to balance myself better. His eyes rake over my body, causing a warm feeling to radiate through me.

It’s the first day of school. Even though Gabe had gone through this twice already, his separation anxiety always surfaced when we were about to leave. He left his backpack upstairs and tried to use it as an excuse as to why he couldn’t go. After I rushed into his room and got it for him, Theo asks me if I saw Ella’s backpack anywhere. She looks at me, her rosy cheeks clear compared to Gabe’s tear-stained ones, and tells me that she didn’t think she would need it.

I give Gabe his bag and rush back upstairs to get Ella’s. When I come back down, I trip and begin to fall forwards. Theo’s already there. He grabs my forearms and I stumble into his embrace. Our noses touch for half a second. Theo’s eyes sparkle with a look I don’t appreciate. He chuckles and leans in for a kiss. He tastes like pancake syrup. “I love you,” he tells me, loud enough for the kids to hear.

“Time to go,” I say, and pry myself away from him. I look down at the kids, and find Gabe clutching my shirt.

He’s crying again, saying, “No, mommy, no.” He hiccups nonstop. I lean down to kiss his cheek, and my son’s blue eyes look sadly desperate.

I tell him, “It’s okay, baby, it’s going to be alright.”

In the car, I tell Gabe that the end of the day would show up and he wouldn’t even realize it. Theo is occupied with Ella. She tells him how excited she is for the first day of kindergarten, and most of her words come out in a mumbled blur, but Theo gives her his full attention.

Theo’s hand is on my knee, lightly rubbing it with his thumb. After I give Gabe and Ella another kiss and let them leave for school, I ask him to remove it.

His face stiffens, changing from the soft look he had when he was wishing the kids goodbye.

“I’m doing it for them, okay?” He tells me. “It’s important that they see we don’t hate each other.”

I want to ask him when we have ever done anything to make them think that, but then he gets a phone call and ignores me for the rest of the ride home.

“Are you alright?” Liam’s voice brings me back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” I tell him. Turning away from him, I blush when I notice that Ella is still in the room and Gabe is at the door.

I pretend to look for something in my makeup bag. Gabe and Ella giggle behind me, and I hear Liam’s thick chuckle as well. I wonder what they were laughing about, so I turn to look at them.

Liam’s face is fixated on Ella, who stares at Gabe, who clutches his stomach.

“So,” I break their moment of laughter, grabbing Liam’s attention.

He clears his throat, but the playful smile remains. “If you are ready, there is a smaller dining room on this floor. I requested the Duke have it prepared instead of the one downstairs, seeing as though you still have some time before your leg fully heals.”

“Oh. You didn’t have to do that.”

He puts up his hand. “Please, it was nothing.” Liam goes to grab my crutches, and I suddenly feel graceless when I try to move with the gown pooled around me.

Ella tells me, “See you later, Mama-gator!”

I turn back to them, wondering if the donuts Liam bought them were all they ate. “Are you two going to go eat dinner?”

“Maxwell said he would walk us through more courtly etiquette before we eat,” Gabe says. They walk away, and I turn back to Liam.

I notice how he looks at the children as they walk in the opposite direction. My heart swells, and I genuinely hope everything would be smooth sailing from here on out.

We reach a set of ordinate doors that I had never seen before. Two servants open them, and we enter the room.

There’s a small table, probably big enough for four people, but there were only two chairs. A candle and rose sit in the middle of the table, and I remember the roses he sent to me the day we were in Fydelia.

Taking a look around the room, I see that there are candles everywhere: on the floors and window sills and on smaller tables near serving trays.

Glancing at Liam, I notice that he’s been scanning my face the entire time. Sure I was impressed — flattered even — but I didn’t think he should have done all this for a simple dinner.

He leads me to one of the chairs, and pushes it in as I take a seat. Servants take away my crutches.

Liam sits calmly, though he continues to glance around the room as if he was checking that everything was in order.

After a few moments, servants put plates and trays in front of us.

“I didn’t know what you would like,” Liam tells me. “So I had them prepare a variety.”

There is soup, chicken, small tarts, cut up sandwiches, and spaghetti!

I laugh a little when I notice it, and he chuckles, too.

“I thought it would be a nice way to remember how well our first date went.”

We smile at each other awkwardly before serving ourselves. I expected him to start up the conversation, but we continue eating in silence.

Theo mostly conducted business through dinner or lunch and would go by himself. Today, he asked me to tag along, since the person he was meeting would be bringing someone as well.

We don’t talk on the drive over. That’s mostly how it is between us. We manage to keep up the façade in front of the children, friends, and family, but when we’re alone together we remain civil, and only civil.

But the amount of time we spent alone was increasing. Sure sometimes we would argue, but most of the time we acted like close friends. If someone saw us behave like that, they could easily figure out that we had a child together.

Inside the restaurant, two men are already waiting for Theo. We take a seat and order. I remain silent for the most of the meal, but I feel the other men glancing at me.

Theo discusses the benefits of them investing in his and Boris’ company, but the men are difficult to persuade. They almost stand up and leave, but Theo doesn’t lose his cool and gets them to stay.

My husband finishes his little speech, and the men start chuckling behind their wine glasses. They glance at me again, and answer Theo in Russian, which makes his cheeks go red with embarrassment. He loses his calm and curses at them, and they curse back with harsher words.

One of them throws his handkerchief at Theo and they leave the restaurant.

Even though Theo and Boris’ company was doing well — and I honestly thought that they didn’t need this new investor — I knew that it must have felt terrible to get rejected like that.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He takes it and kisses it. We leave the restaurant hand-in-hand. When we get into the car, he leans over and kisses my cheek. I wonder why he did that, since the kids aren’t here.

After the driver passes by our penthouse, I ask him where we’re going. He doesn’t answer me, but smirks. Eventually the car stops and leads me out and into a lavish rooftop restaurant. He tells me that he’s thankful to have me by his side. I sit quietly and watch him talk, looking out into the city around me, taking in the words of this man who I promised myself not to love.

Liam still hasn’t talked, and I begin to get more nervous. Remembering Theodore and our “fake-love” situation, I decide to speak up.

“I think we should set some boundaries,” I tell him.

He chews pensively. “What do you mean?”

“About Gabriel, and what’s going to happen since he’s the heir... and our son.”

Liam looks back down at his plate. “Yes, I believe that is the reason for this dinner.” He sends me a playful smile, but I keep my face straight.

“I know there’s a lot of... gray space between us, considering our relationship and everything.” I glance up to see him staring at me. I expected him to look upset. Remembering fact that he’s been trained since childhood to hide his emotions makes me feel worse.

I do my best to continue, “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting Gabe and Ella these past few days. Even when I didn’t have my memory, I knew that they lost their father, and I partly knew that I had lost my husband, but I was so focused on getting the rest of my memory back, so focused on trying to remember who you were, that I forgot that my children are probably traumatized and struggling emotionally.”

I scan his face, but don’t wait for Liam to answer before I add in, “I lost my father when I was about sixteen, but it was of natural causes... we sort of knew that he was going to pass away before the fact. But Gabe and Ella didn’t know... we had just left them at practice! For their favorite sports! And when they come back they find out that their father is no longer with them and their mother doesn’t know who they are? I can’t even imagine what they went through.”

My voice breaks a little, and I feel like I’ve fully comprehended what I’ve done to my children. My poor little babies.

Liam reaches across the table to take my hand, but I regain my composure. I continue: “Moving to Cordonia didn’t make it any easier. Right now what they need is a support system.”

“Of course,” he answers.

I sit back in my seat. “And... I want to say that I’m sorry. For leaving without telling you. Maybe this wouldn’t have been so hard had I communicated better.”

“It was my fault as well,” Liam states. “You deserved more than the trysts and secrecy.”

I didn’t understand why he was putting unnecessary blame on himself, but a small voice in my head tells me that he did wrong me, and he was right to apologize for it.

“Okay, but,” I try to interrupt him, not wanting to shoulder more blame on either of us. “We have time. To figure out what this is going to be. Until then, we have to... sort of co-parent Gabriel.”

“Co-parent?” Liam asks.

I wonder if he’s ever heard that term before. “Even though our relationship is very uncertain right now, we have to work together to help Gabriel.”

“And Eleanor, of course,” he adds.

I scoff and roll my eyes. “She can be a bit of a handful sometimes. I don’t want you to get worried about her. Gabriel’s your son, you should—"

“She’s nothing I can’t handle.” Liam chuckles. “I’ve spent time with both of them, and they’re quite well-behaved. But... may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” I allow him, taking another bite of my spaghetti.

“Why did you choose the names ‘Gabriel’ and ‘Eleanor’ for them?”

I slowly chew my food and swallow it. Liam hasn’t touched his food in the last couple minutes, and I imagine that he’s waiting for me to speak.

“Gabriel was my father’s name,” I tell him. “My mother suggested it.”

At the mention of her, he raises his eyebrows. I notice it and begin to laugh.

“Oh, my God! My mother gave you a hard time, didn’t she? Rowan told me about it.”

Through a broad smile, he says, “Yes, she wanted me to leave immediately and return to Cordonia. I half expected her to kick me out, but I managed to win her over.”

Boris, his wife, and their three children had been visiting the U.S., and we all decided to go to the Bahamas for the long weekend. My mother came with, since she enjoyed Boris and Theo’s company.

Astrid and I were sipping on wine. The children were playing around within sight. Theo sat next to me, with Boris and my mother on the couch in front of us.

They’re all laughing, but I’m tired. Annoyed. Before we flew over here, Theo and I had argued. I told him it was time that I told Gabriel about Liam, and that we returned to Cordonia.

He had been clean for a while now, but I still blamed his irritability on his withdrawals. He would never lash out in front of the kids, but wasn’t kind to me.

He said that if I really wanted to leave, I could just take Gabriel and go.

I wasn’t going to take up his offer, but I went to the drawers where we kept all our passports.

I find Gabe’s, Ella’s, and his, but I can’t find mine. I turn to yell at him, knowing that he took it, but he’s already out of the room. I race to the living room, ready to make him give me back my passport, but my mother has arrived since we said that we would go over to the Bahamas together. She embraces Theo like he’s her own son.

Now here, while we’re supposed to be enjoying some free time with family and friends, Drake, Maxwell, Hana, and Liam’s faces flash before my eyes. Perhaps in another life I was enjoying drinks with them instead of Theo and Boris and Astrid.

Theo notices the distraught look on my face, and wraps his arm around me. He kisses the top of my head, and whispers to me: “I’m sorry.”

There’s a large part of me begging myself to pull away, but I don’t want to be alone. I wanted Liam more than anything, but it was clear to me now that it was either Theo and my children or loneliness. I fall into his embrace, and I decide that it’s best for Gabriel and I if I stayed here.

“Um... that’s great,” I shake myself into the present moment. “I... had Gabe in L.A. actually. My mom flew out to come and see him. She was the one who suggested the name. Theo mentioned that was the name of a historical figure in early Cordonian history.”

Liam smiles fondly. “And Eleanor?”

I blush, but continue. “I, um... looked into your mother’s death. When I was pregnant. It was after the incident with Regina. I imagined what it would have been like for us if your mother had never died.” I wait for him to comment, but he says nothing. “I assumed she wouldn’t have kicked me out of the country like Regina did. And, of course, I knew that your mother was important to you. Since I wasn’t going to name our kid ‘Constantine,’ I figured that naming my daughter Eleanor could... connect our family through the distance.”

Liam’s smile widens. “That is a great honor for my mother.” The look on his face falters when he looks back to me and asks, “Theodore was content with it?”

“I told him I just found the name pretty. I didn’t think he knew that it was your mother’s name, but... there’s a chance did know.”

Liam takes a few more bites of his food. “Seems as if he knew quite a lot about Cordonia. It would be a surprise if that was something that he skipped over during his research.”

I scoff. “There’s a high chance he was lying about it, but honestly I did my best to avoid arguing with him.” I sigh, and stare down at my plate. “Even though I was fine with taking up the responsibility of Gabriel all by myself, I was pretty shocked when Theo helped out.” I look up, analyzing Liam’s expression. “Liam, I’ll never stop being sorry for separating you from your son for so long, but I think it’s important to acknowledge that at least he had a normal childhood.”

To my shock, he smiles at me. “Yes, I’m glad of that as well. I knew that if I ever had children, I would never want them to deal with as much pressure and stress that I had when I was younger. But there is another thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“What is it?” I take a long sip of the wine.

“The issue of legitimacy.”

I put down the glass and sigh, my anxiety increasing. “Do you think that might be a big problem?”

His eyebrows furrow and he slowly nods. “Duke Bertrand mentioned it to me. There’s a chance that people would object of him being anointed as the heir.”

“They’d say I was a crown chaser and all that stuff, right?”

An anger flashes behind his eyes, but he calmly says, “Yes.”

I feel hopeless when I say, “We can’t release the DNA test, or his birth certificate or whatever?”

Liam sighs heavily. “No. People would claim they are fake.”

I didn’t want Gabe to go through the disapproval that I suffered during the Engagement Tour. I try to grab at reasons or ways to make Cordonians believe that Gabe really was Liam’s son. “Well what about Bartie and Bertrand? Did people question if Bertrand was really his father?”

Liam rubs his chin. “I’m sure some did, but I heard nothing of it. And Bertrand and Savannah were married after she returned to Cordonia. If any person did have questions about legitimacy, it would have dissolved after their marriage.”

“So you’re saying the only way to make people understand that Gabe is your son... is if you and I married?”

“Well, no, that wouldn’t eliminate the people’s disapproval entirely, but it would help them towards believing the truth.” He looks up at me, his eyes holding a hopeful question, and I understand why he started this conversation.

“Liam... you can’t be serious.”

Suddenly, his stoic exterior is gone, but his voice is level when he speaks. “Riley, the distance between us did nothing to lessen my love for you—”

“Liam,” I say forcefully.

He takes a deep breath and continues. “I know there is a lot we still have to talk through—”

“Liam, no, I... how do you expect me to accept a proposal only a few weeks after my husband died?”

He blinks, and his face slightly reddens with embarrassment. “My apologies, Riley, I didn’t consider that.”

Stifling silence spreads around the room. Neither of us touch our food or even look at each other.

“I hope,” Liam tries to speak. I can tell it’s difficult for him; he thinks about every word before it comes out of his mouth. “I hope the commitment that you had to your husband does not stop us from... continuing our relationship.”

I say, “Of course,” before his words make sense. What did he mean “commitment”? Was I committed to Theo?

I try to remember something that could prove him wrong, that would show that we were never committed to one another like a married couple was, but I can’t think of anything, and Liam speaks up again.

“But, Riley, I must press the matter of time. The anointing is at the end of the Social Season. That’s long enough for people to speculate and spread rumors. The last thing I want is for you or our son to feel any kind of worry.”

“Liam, please, I can’t think about that right now. I’m already stressed about what’s going to happen, I don’t think I can deal with a royal engagement on top of that. And our relationship is already strained. Getting married may not be the best idea. And if that backfires, it won’t only hurt us, but it’ll hurt Gabe and Ella, too.”

He stares at me, taking a deep breath. In a low voice he pleads, “Then give me until the end of the Social Season.”

“What?”

“Give me until the end of the season to prove to you that getting married wouldn’t backfire.”

I let out a laugh. “You’re joking.”

Liam shakes his head, and reaches for my hand. “I am utterly serious, Riley.”

I narrow my eyes at him, tears of frustration brimming at my eyes. My voice is soft when I say, “Why are you doing this, Liam? You’re supposed to be mad at me for keeping your son away from you for a decade. You missed ten years of his life because of me and you aren’t angry in the slightest.”

“I will admit,” he begins. “I was quite upset... but I did not know the full extent of what you went through.” He scans my face for a moment. It’s all I can do to not burst into tears. “Riley, not once has my love for you faded. Not even for a moment. I knew during the Social Season that you were the only woman for me, and I have known that through the entirety of our separation. Let me prove that we are the only ones for each other, and if by Gabriel’s anointing I am proven wrong... then we can... co-parent, and that shall be the extent of our relationship.”

Thinking about Liam trying to win my hand was silly, and honestly, I didn’t want it. But after everything, I didn’t think that being co-parents could be the only thing between us.

“Alright,” I relent, and he gives me a thankful smile.

We finish the rest of the meal, and he talks to me about the time he’s spent with Gabriel and Eleanor, and his joy about the topic is represented on his face. I truly hope this won’t be too difficult. I wanted everything to go back to normal, to the way it should have been. Even though that reality was officially unattainable, I try to convince myself that letting Liam attempt to bring us back together wasn’t a bad thing.

#trr #trr choices #the royal romance #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #choices fanfiction #trr king liam x mc #liam x riley #riley x liam

44 notes · View notes