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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

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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

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accioxreparo · 4 years

Text

dating Oliver Wood....

synopsis: In which somebody plans to ask you on a date but little does he know you’ve already heard of his plans...

pairing: Oliver Wood x gryffindor!reader

warnings: I guess mentions of making out but like...briefly?

a/n: wow I love him and I think I literally thought about this all day yesterday so there’s that. Also @ anon who requested Oliver and a soulmate au....I ADORE you!!!! I’m working on it now but have this in the meantime dedicated to you <3

tagging: @strawberriesonsummer

Oliver has always been intense about everything he cares about. So when he found himself thinking about you a little more often than what seemed normal he acted

He’s intense and confident and he fully expected to be able to walk right up to you and ask you out on a date for next Hogsmeade weekend.

But then he actually approaches you

“Hey,” You give him an easygoing smile, holding your books a little closer to you. Percy, your fellow prefect, rolls his eyes at the sudden interruption of the conversation you were having about the newest patrol schedules and excuses himself. “What’s up?”

Oliver, on the other hand, can’t seem to think straight at the sight of you looking up at him like that. He can’t remember any of the little speech he had thought out earlier that day and when he finally works up the nerve to speak he stutters through his words.

“Do you - weekend, this weekend - I - maybe we -”

He’s clearly nervous and there’s this flush spreading across his face and when you reach forward to set your hand on his arm comfortingly he freezes completely. You try not to let your smile turn into an amused smirk with some success. “Yes.”

That’s what sort of snaps him out of his little nervous trance and the grin you’re so used to seeing on him appears again. “Yes what?” “Yes I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade this weekend. I was thinking butterbeers by the way.”

He laughs then and can’t seem to remember why he was so nervous in the first place. This is you. He knows you and can’t wait to do this with you. “We’ll do butterbeers if you tell me one thing.” “And what might that be?” “How’d you know that’s what I was trying to say?”

You do smirk then and nod over towards the other side of the Great Hall where his entire team is not so subtly staring in your direction. “They overheard you talking to yourself in the changing rooms and the twins can’t keep secrets.”

You actually don’t bother waiting until the weekend

Oliver is completely shocked when you walk up to him later that same night in the common room while he’s staring at his blank parchment and watches as you lean in close so nobody overhears you. “Fancy a swim in the prefect's bathroom?”

He smiles, nods, and swears he falls in love right then and there

So yeah, by the time you two actually go out that weekend you’re practically already dating. When you hear people speculating one day in the hall you laugh to yourself.

Later that same day you sneak out with Oliver again, this time to the training grounds. When you mention the conversations you overheard you’re first thought is to keep quiet about the two of you for a few days simply because it’ll be entertaining to see the outcome. When you tell Oliver that he only laughs and pulls you closer to him.

It wouldn’t be Hogwarts without gossip and it’s not just the Gryffindor’s that are speculating about you two being official.

Then at the match the next weekend between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, Oliver plays flawlessly, even shooting smiles and winks at you every now and then to which you smile, roll your eyes, and tell him to pay attention.

Despite that, they win the match. You don’t have enough time to process anything at all before Oliver is flying down, landing on the stands right beside you.

“What are you doing?” You laugh as he bear hugs you tightly, a huge and excited grin on his face. Then he looks at you and there’s a smirk there you’ve only caught glimpses of before.

You avert your gaze and try to avoid the fact that your face is heating up and an odd feeling you only vaguely recognize is fluttering through your body. Oliver notices though and his smirk widens “Well your boyfriend was wondering if he could have a kiss in celebration of his victory.”

Your smile is amused as you brave looking at him again “Was he now?” “He was indeed.”

And god you’ve been thinking about kissing him since that night in the prefects bathroom

So you do

You grip onto his Quidditch robes, material scrunching in your hands, and pull him to your level. But before you actually kiss him you give him another amused smile, his words finally processing in your head “Did you say my boyfriend?”

That’s when he gets a little flustered again. Oliver hadn’t really noticed he’d said it either. “I, uh, yeah. Is that - is that okay?”

He looks almost nervous for a second, a stark contrast to how confident he’d been just moments before. Your smile turns softer then and instead of giving him a verbal answer you kiss him.

You really don’t know what comes over you. His arms wind around your waist pulling you closer to him and you let out this soft gasp. The only thing that stops you guys from getting too much more into your kiss is Lee Jordan’s voice sounding across the field. “Told you Fred! I’ll take those 10 sickles now.”

Neither of you hold back after that and god is the sight of the two of you downright adorable

Oliver always has his hands on you in some way or another. Usually he’s holding your hand as you walk through the halls side by side and in class he’ll more often than not have his arm wrapped around the back of your chair

At the same time though there’s usually not much more pda cause I mean some things have to be kept to the two of you right

But oh my god when he gets you alone?

You see this new side of him for the first time after one of his practices one day

You’d developed a habit of sitting outside on the stands whenever Oliver drags the team to practice since you always walk down with him anyway.

And yeah, once you drown out the noise it’s relaxing and you actually get a fair amount of your class work done.

Sometimes anyway.

The sight of Oliver practicing is one that has a tendency to distract you. Especially when he notices you watching him. Those are the times he smirks and decides to show off a little. You’re actively fighting to keep calm and not just walk right up to the field and snog him

Finally after what feels like ages practice is over and you wait until the rest of the team has already made their way back up to the castle to enter the locker rooms where you already know Oliver’s going to be looking over the plays he’s just finished working out

He can hear you coming in and before he knows it you’re walking over to where he’s staring at a bunch of little marks moving around the chalkboard he works out different strategies on and you stop right next to him

“Just out of curiosity,” You start slowly, arms crossing in front of you and a feigned look of innocence on your face. “How much longer are you going to be?”

“Not long,” Oliver quickly glances from the board to you, giving you a soft smile as he does so, before looking back again. He may be focused on the plays he’s trying to figure out but he still notices the way your shoulders slump a little.

Without any sort of hesitation he reaches for you and pulls you towards him until his arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, head resting on your shoulder but still watching the marks on the board “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” You mutter softly, setting your arms over his and shifting backwards a little so you’re even closer to him than before. “Just thought we could do something...fun. But if you’re busy I’ll head back to the common room.”

And yeah his attention may have been torn before but oh my god does he pick up on that tone in your voice immediately and honestly his mind just goes blank right then and there. He doesn’t react much when you turn in his arms to face him.

You’re smart. You know exactly what you’re doing. And so you pull him down towards you like you usually do, arms wrapping around his neck and you kiss him softly

But then to your surprise Oliver’s the one to deepen your kiss rather quickly, he moves so smoothly you don’t realize you’ve moved at all until your back hits the cold metal of the lockers to one side of the room

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds before you’re full on snogging

You’re much too aware of the feeling of his hands slipping just under the hem of your shirt but they don’t venture any farther, not until you reach down and place your hand on one of his and move it up a little, silently telling him it's okay

And god he doesn’t hold back

That’s totally fine with you though because you don’t either

His hands are a little rough but god the way he touches you is soft and has you gasping and arching into him

You realize then through heated touches and kisses that you’ll never be able to get enough of him. Little do you know he’s thinking the same thing

ANYWAY

Wow I got carried away and newsflash I’m in love with Oliver Wood

#lowkey wanna do a part two #asdf part two but make it ✨spicy✨#okay i'm done anyway #hp fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #harry potter headcanon #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #my fics

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bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

Papa and Maggie’s Weekend - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 11 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 5924 words!!!

Summary: Part 11 of Single Dad!Charlie, Charlie goes camping for the weekend and leaves Margaux in the care of Owen

Warnings: referenced drug use, swearing

A/N: i’ve had this sitting around for so long that i actually have almost two more full parts done so i figured i’d get this one out there before they stack up any more haha, i know most of you don’t care about this series much any more but it’s my comfort series so i’m gonna keep writing it for me (and ella, this is our series @happinessinthedarkesttimes lol) anyways, enjoy almost 6000! words of owen and margaux being the cutest little buddies and owen just trying his best

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @herbrutals @youngbloodblog @courageous-she @littlemissaddict @gloomybrieyxb @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan @moneybagmgk @emeliii1 @mybradforddream @lovesanimals (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)

SATURDAY

“Be good, okay?” Charlie crouched in front of Margaux. She nodded sleepily, the early morning wakeup something she wasn’t used to.

“When will you come back?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a fist. Charlie swallowed, willing himself not to cancel the whole trip. They needed to do this, he had to get used to spending time away from her eventually.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. So you and Papa will spend all day today and then all day tomorrow together and then Daddy will be back in time for bed time tomorrow.” Charlie explained, his voice soft.

“Why can’t I go too?” Margaux pouted.

“Because it’s a big person trip.” Charlie sighed slightly. He knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“I’m a big person. I’m four!” Margaux protested.

“You need to be a little bit bigger to come. But I promise we can go camping next week, okay? Just you and me.” Charlie promised, knowing there was nothing Margaux loved more than going camping with her dad.

“Pinky promise?” She questioned, holding out her hand, and Charlie wrapped his pinky around hers.

“I pinky promise.” He agreed, before catching sight of the time on his watch.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “I gotta go now baby, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m gonna miss you.”

He pulled the four year old into a hug, biting his lip as she started crying. Maybe leaving when she was tired wasn’t a good idea after all...

“Don’t go.” She sniffled, and Charlie pulled back, kissing the top of her head gently.

“I gotta.” He whispered. “I love you so much.”

“Daddy, don’t go.” She cried, throwing herself back into his arms and Charlie felt his eyes prick with tears of his own.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He promised. “I love you.”

“Love you Daddy, don’t go.” Owen stepped forward, reaching out and taking the crying four year old from Charlie’s arms.

“Go.” He instructed, as Margaux screamed out, Charlie’s heart breaking with every cry of his name. He stood up, hesitating, and Owen gave him a small smile.

“I’ve got her. Go have fun. We love you.”

“I love you too.” Charlie replied, and with one last glance towards Margaux he turned and climbed into his car.

And no one had to know if he cried all the way to the organised meeting spot.

Charlie’s car pulled away and Owen waved slightly, knowing that his boyfriend would be taking this separation just as hard as his daughter was. The blond boy sighed, carrying the still screaming four year old inside, humming softly as he walked in an attempt to soothe her, his mind drifting back to the first time Charlie had left him alone with Margaux on the first day he had met her.

“Just watch her for a second, I need to pee.” Charlie said, standing up and placing the two year old down next to Owen, before walking away. Margaux watched him go, her face scrunching up as she began to cry. Owen’s eyes widened. What was he supposed to do now? He reached out, patting the top of Margaux’s head awkwardly.

“Don’t cry.” He mumbled, in what he hoped was a comforting tone. Clearly it wasn’t, however, since Margaux’s cries got louder, causing people to start to stare.

“Hey, Maggie. It’s okay. He’ll be back soon.” He tried, moving to pat her back. Still no use, and Owen began to panic. What were you meant to do with a crying kid? He bit his lip, still awkwardly patting her back.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Charlie heading back over to the table, and Owen breathed a sigh of relief as the older boy scooped up his daughter, holding her close to him and mumbling something in French. Margaux relaxed into his arms

“I didn’t know how to make her stop.” Owen admitted, as Charlie sat back down, Margaux still wrapped up in his arms. The Canadian boy laughed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn.” He replied. Owen gave him a small smile.

He sure hoped so, for everyone’s sake.

As usual Charlie was right. Owen did learn, and now here he was, officially on his own for the weekend with Margaux having a complete meltdown in his arms.

He bounced her slightly, humming the tune to Stand Tall, hoping the familiar tune would calm the four year old.

“Daddy!” Margaux wailed, her face red with anguish.

“Papa’s here.” Owen reminded her, swaying back and forth with her head tucked into his shoulder.

“I want Daddy.” She protested. Owen bit his lip.

“Daddy will be back tomorrow but for now, think about how much fun we’re gonna have together! We can paint each other’s nails and get pizza for dinner and watch all of your favourite movies. Or we could go out if you wanted to go somewhere? We could go swimming?”

“Don’t wanna.” Margaux cried.

“Okay.” Owen sighed, moving over to the couch and sitting down on it, shifting Margaux so that she was in his lap. Surely she’d tire herself out eventually, especially since it was barely 7am... maybe the best thing would be to just let her cry.

So that’s what Owen did, let the four year old cry as much as she needed, as he held her tight and hummed whatever songs he could think of, his fingers tangled through her curls.

Margaux cried non stop for the first hour until she fell asleep in Owen’s arms, exhausted from her tears. Owen sighed. He knew there were things to do but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Margaux’s side.

So he stayed on the couch for almost four hours, Margaux curled into his chest, while he played video games on mute waiting for her to wake up.

Eventually she did stir, just before lunch time, which Owen decided was the perfect distraction.

“Good morning princess.” He whispered. “Are you hungry?”

Margaux yawned before nodding.

“I found a really cool place for us to go have lunch and some friends we can invite along to come play with us. How does that sound?” Owen suggested and Margaux just nodded again, staring at the TV blankly. Clearly it was going to be a bit harder to get her to talk than he’d thought.

“Should we get dressed? You can even pick your own clothes!” Margaux didn’t reply, so Owen just stood up, the four year old still held safely in his arms, and made his way down the hallway to her bedroom.

He kicked open the door, and placed Margaux onto the ground, before opening her wardrobe.

“What do you wanna wear?”

Margaux stepped forward and Owen internally cheered at the slight progress. The tiny blonde scanned through her clothes, eventually grabbing at a pair of overalls, before turning back and looking at Owen expectantly.

“You wanna wear those ones?” He asked, and she nodded, before grabbing onto a Julie and the Phantoms shirt that Madi’s dad had made her. Owen smiled slightly, taking the two items of clothing out and quickly helping Margaux get dressed.

“Now, what’s next?” Owen mused, hoping to get a reaction from Margaux. She didn’t answer, staring down at the ground as Owen grabbed her hairbrush and settled down with her standing between his legs as he sat on the end of her bed.

“How do you want your hair?” Owen asked, running the brush through her curls. Margaux thought for a moment.

“Bun.” She mumbled, and Owen grinned.

“There’s that beautiful voice of yours. I missed it.” He teased, and Margaux smiled slightly.

“Okay, let’s get this bun going.” He pulled her hair back, tying it somewhat messily in a bun. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Margaux replied.

“Yay!” Owen cheered and Margaux giggled, the sound warming Owen’s heart.

“Do you wanna go watch Paw Patrol while I get dressed? Or you can stay here and play?” Owen suggested, and Margaux shook her head, clinging to his leg.

“With you.” She mumbled and Owen sighed but took her with him nonetheless.

Two steps forward, one step back.

Almost an hour later Owen climbed out of an Uber, before unclipping Margaux from the safety seat, removing the safety seat from the car, and thanking their driver.

“You ready to make some friends?” He questioned, looking towards the large building that housed an indoor play centre where they would be meeting a few members of the cast.

“No.” Margaux replied and Owen laughed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll like them.” He said.

They entered the indoor play centre and Margaux’s eyes widened in excitement, taking in the various areas of the room, before settling on a high ropes course in the middle of the room. Of course Charlie’s kid would choose the most adventurous thing in the room to be excited for.

“Owen!” A voice called, and Owen turned to find Cheyenne heading towards them, with his twins holding onto their father’s hands.

“Hey guys.” Owen greeted. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too. And little miss Margaux here, look at how much you’ve grown!” Cheyenne gasped playfully and Margaux grinned, Owen smiling at the switch in her behaviour.

“Cause I’m four.” She boasted. Cheyenne smiled.

“So are my little ones. This is Willow and Ethan.” He smiled, gesturing to each twin as he introduced them. “And this is Margaux.”

“Hi!” Willow grinned and Margaux smiled slightly, leaning into Owen.

“She hasn’t had very good experiences with kids her age.” Owen explained. “Plus we’ve had a bit of a rough morning.”

“That’s okay. Why don’t we head back to the table we’re at. Kenny and Sacha are there and Tori and Jadah are coming soon. Kenny booked the whole place out for the day so there’s no rush and no other people.” Cheyenne said, and Owen nodded, following the older man through the entrance and over to a table where Kenny and Sacha were sitting.

“Hey guys.” Owen smiled, once they arrived at the table.

“Hey Owen. How are you?” Kenny questioned.

“Not too bad. Hopefully will be better soon.” Owen replied with a small grin.

“Daddy can we go play?” Ethan questioned, and Cheyenne nodded.

“Why don’t you take Margaux with you.” He suggested and the twins both turned their attention to the blond, who turned to Owen, a worried look on her face.

“You’ll be okay.” Owen promised her, moving to take her shoes off as she clung to him. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Okay.” She decided, and Owen placed her on the ground, watching as she hesitantly took a hand of each of the twins and allowed them to drag her towards the biggest playground.

“How was this morning?” Kenny questioned as Owen flopped down into an empty chair. Owen sighed, watching Margaux climb the stairs of the playground, any hesitation already gone.

“Not good. She was okay until Charlie said he had to go and then she had a complete meltdown. He was about 30 seconds away from cancelling his trip, you could see it in his face. So I grabbed her and made him leave, and then she cried for literally an hour until she fell asleep again.” He said, and Kenny smiled sympathetically.

“How long is Charlie gone for?” Sacha asked.

“He comes back tomorrow evening.” Owen bit his lip. “I’m worried about how she’ll go tonight when she realises he isn’t there to put her to bed.”

“You’ve got this.” Kenny assured him. “We’ve all seen you do it before and you do this all the time with Charlie around.”

“I hope so.” Owen replied. “I’m kinda hoping she’ll exhaust herself here and just pass out tonight.”

The group laughed.

“That’s pretty likely.” Cheyenne agreed. “I’m hoping for the same thing.”

The door chimed again, signifying another arrival, and both Kenny and Sacha stood up to go greet the newest guest. Cheyenne gave Owen a small smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you said Margaux hadn’t had very good experiences with kids her age. What happened?” He questioned.

“Charlie had something to do, I think it was some beach cleaning thing, so he enrolled her into a childcare program. She lasted a few hours before she got into disagreements with the other kids about her not having a mum, and the bitch teacher backed them up saying she had to have a mum. So next minute Charlie’s being called in to discuss Margaux’s “issues with authority figures”, and she never went back.” Owen explained, and Cheyenne frowned.

“That’s horrible.” He said. “I’m glad she didn’t go back.”

“Me too.” Owen agreed. Cheyenne gave him a reassuring smile.

“At least we know with my kids they won’t worry about her not having a mum.” He joked and Owen smiled, instinctively glancing towards the playground, where Margaux and the twins had decided to attempt to climb up the large slides the wrong way, the three of them giggling loudly as they slipped back down.

“She reminds me so much of Charlie.” Cheyenne commented, following Owen’s gaze. “They have the same adventurous spirit and cheeky personality.”

“She’s his clone.” Owen laughed. “Everything except the hair.”

“Personally I think her hair makes her look like your daughter.” Cheyenne said, and Owen’s heart skipped a beat.

“Really?” His tone was filled with disbelief. He’d never considered that before.

“Definitely. If people didn’t know they’d assume she was yours biologically.” Cheyenne nodded. Owen smiled slightly.

“That means a lot to me.”

“Anytime.” Cheyenne smiled, as they were rejoined by Kenny and Sacha, who were now accompanied by Tori and Jadah.

“Now,” Kenny started, as everyone sat down around the table. “Should we order some food?”

So maybe not all kids her age were horrible, Margaux decided as she sat at the top of one of the large towers in the playground. The twins seemed nice enough and her Papa promised her that he would be there, and she knew he wouldn’t let anyone be mean to her, ever.

“Do you have a brother or a sister?” Willow questioned, plopping down next to her. Margaux shook her head.

“No.” She said. “Just me and Daddy and sometimes Papa. But he lives in Oklahoma most times.”

“You don’t have a mummy too?” Ethan asked, joining them. Margaux shook her head again.

“Do you have a mummy?” She glanced between the twins, who also shook their heads.

“We have Dad and Daddy.” Willow told her. Margaux grinned. There was no way they’d be mean to her about not having a mum if they didn’t have one either.

“Do you like Paw Patrol?” She asked, and the twins nodded quickly.

“Yeah! I like Skye.” Willow answered.

“I like Marshall.” Ethan added.

“I like Everest cause she likes snow and I like snow too.” Margaux explained.

“Can we go on the slides again?” Ethan questioned, and the girls exchanged a look before nodding.

“You go first.” Margaux instructed, and together the three made their way through the tunnels, back to the slides.

Yeah, Margaux thought as she followed the twins, maybe all kids weren’t mean.

After several hours of running around, the three four year olds were clearly exhausted so the group decided to call it a day.

“Do you need a lift?” Cheyenne asked. Owen nodded, glancing down at Margaux, who was hugged tightly between Willow and Ethan. He couldn’t wait to tell Charlie that she finally had some friends her own age.

“That would be great, thanks.” Owen smiled, which Cheyenne quickly returned.

With a few last goodbyes to the rest of the group and promises to meet up again soon, Owen, Cheyenne and the kids left, Cheyenne leading the way while Owen brought up the rear to make sure the kids didn’t wander.

And before he knew it Cheyenne was pulling up in front of Charlie’s place and Owen was unclipping Margaux’s seat as she clung to the twins, begging to see them again soon. It was only after Cheyenne and Owen promised they’d organise something that she let Owen lift her out of the car and the two of them stood and waved goodbye to the car as they drove away.

“Come on Maggie, lets go inside and decide what we want for dinner.” Owen said and Margaux’s eyes lit up.

“Pizza?” She asked. Owen chuckled.

“Sounds good to me.” He agreed, unlocking the door and letting her in, placing the car seat near the door in case they needed it again.

“Can we watch movies?” Margaux questioned, squirming in Owen’s arms until he placed her down on the ground.

“We sure can.” He smiled. “Whatever movies you want.”

“Nemo?” Margaux suggested as Owen flicked the TV on, going to Disney Plus and finding the movie in response to her request.

And once the movie was playing Owen settled down onto the couch with her, and was determined he wouldn’t move unless he absolutely had to.

Eventually it was time for the moment Owen had been dreading. Bedtime.

“Okay princess, it’s time to go to sleep.” He said, as the credits rolled on Frozen 2.

“Daddy said he would come back for bedtime.” Margaux frowned.

“Bedtime tomorrow, remember?” Owen reminded her softly.

“Oh.” She pouted, tears threatening to fall. Owen’s eyes widened, trying to think fast.

“I know!” He exclaimed, and Margaux looked at him curiously. “We should have a sleepover. We can get your toys and sleep in Daddy’s bed and maybe even watch TV until we fall asleep.”

Margaux grinned widely.

“Yeah!” She squealed. “I wanna do it!”

“Okay, well we’ll have to go get your friends from your room.” He said and Margaux grabbed onto his hand.

“Hurry.” She giggled, tugging him down the hall to her bedroom. He flicked the light on as they entered, and Margaux jumped onto her bed, eyeing the large pile of Squishmallows stacked at the end of the bed. Madi had bought her one and ever since then she had been addicted to the stuffed toys.

“Okay, who are we bringing?” Owen questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed, already grabbing the toy penguin that Margaux never slept without. The four year old frowned at the pile before reaching towards an orange octopus, depositing it in Owen’s lap. She scanned the pile again, grabbing a small brown and white cow, a grey dragon, a green dinosaur and a large purple and blue cat that was almost as big as she is.

“That’s all.” She decided. Owen nodded, grabbing the toys in his arms.

“Anything else we need?” He asked, and Margaux grabbed her blanket.

“Done.” She decided. Owen grinned, standing up.

“Lead the way Miss Maggie.” He instructed, and Margaux giggled, rushing out of the room and across the hallway into Charlie’s room, leaving Owen to follow her after struggling with the light switch. Eventually he got it off and entered Charlie’s room, dropping the toys onto the bed for Margaux to sort out.

“Do you want to watch one of those house hunting shows?” Owen asked, flicking the TV on. Margaux hummed in response, too busy figuring out the placement of her Squishmallows to pay full attention to him.

“What’s it ‘bout?” Margaux mumbled, settling into the middle of the bed. Owen pulled off his shirt before climbing in next to her, smiling when the four year old latched herself onto him in the same way she did to her father.

“It’s about people who are looking for a new house.” Owen explained.

Margaux thought for a moment before nodding.

“Okay we can watch it Papa.” She agreed, so Owen changed the channel to the lifestyle channel.

Hopefully the show would put the four year old to sleep.

It did not put her to sleep.

It was well past midnight and somehow Margaux was still awake, happily watching a couple decide between an apartment close to their ideal location, or a large house a little further out.

Owen yawned, glancing towards the time.

“Maggie, aren’t you tired darling?” He questioned, and Margaux shook her head.

“I’m awake! My Squishmallows wanna know if they buy the little house.” She informed him. “I want the big, big one.”

If Owen wasn’t half asleep he would have laughed at how invested Margaux was, but he was struggling to keep his eyes open and her not being asleep was not something he found funny in that moment.

“After this we’re gonna turn it off and go to sleep, okay?” He told her, and Margaux frowned, shaking her head.

“I wanna watch more.” She replied, and Owen groaned.

“We gotta go to sleep, otherwise we won’t be able to wake up for Daddy coming home tomorrow.” He said, and Margaux pouted.

“I wanna watch it more. You said I could watch it ‘til I sleeped, and I’m not sleeping yet.” She reminded him, and Owen cursed his past self for using those words, and cursed Charlie for raising such a smart kid.

“But I’m falling asleep.” He whined.

“You sleep then.” She answered, and Owen sighed. Time to put his “parent voice” on.

“Margaux, we’re turning it off after this episode, and we’re going to sleep.” He said firmly and Margaux glared at him.

“No.” She retorted and Owen tensed up. Now what was he meant to do? Margaux was rarely in trouble so he didn’t really have experience in how to discipline her if she acted out.

“Margaux Ivy.” He warned. “Do you want to go back to your own bed?”

Margaux shook her head.

“Then after this episode finishes the TV goes off and we’re going to sleep. And if you go to sleep straight away maybe we can go get breakfast somewhere in the morning. How does that sound?” He tried, hoping the promise of a nice breakfast would make her back down.

“Don’t wanna.” She mumbled. “Want Daddy. You’re a meanie.”

Owen stared at her, his heart shattering at those three little words.

“You don’t mean that, you’re just overtired.” He said, his voice sounding small, not quite sure who he was trying to convince. Margaux crossed her arms.

“Yes I do. You’re a big meanie and a bossy pants and I don’t like you now.” She replied firmly.

“Maggie...” He trailed off, not knowing what to do.

She ignored him, turning her attention back to the TV where the couple were about to sit down to decide between the three houses.

Owen bit his lip, reaching for his phone to text Charlie, even though he knew the chances of Charlie replying were probably slim. He was probably out of cell range, or already asleep, or both.

Messages between OPJ and Char

OPJ one day without you and she hates me

Charlie’s reply was almost instant.

Char she could never hate you O, i promise

Owen sighed, glancing at Margaux who had tucked herself into a ball with her chosen Squishmallows surrounding her, and was mumbling something under her breath in French.

OPJ she said, and i quote, that i’m a “big meanie and a bossy pants and she doesn’t like me now” so yeah, pretty sure she hates me

Char what happened?

OPJ she got sad at bedtime so i promised her we could watch tv until we fell asleep and now its 1 in the fucking morning and she’s still awake watching house hunters and i told her its time for it to be turned off, like the asshole i am, and she said no so i used my parent voice on her and now she hates me and she’s still fucking watching tv and i don’t know what to do

Owen had barely pressed send when his phone began to ring, Charlie’s photo appearing on his screen.

“Hey.” He answered sadly.

“Give the phone to Margaux.” Charlie’s voice came through the phone and Owen didn’t respond, holding the phone out to the four year old.

“It’s for you.” He said, and she glared at him, but took the phone nonetheless, face lighting up when she heard her father’s voice.

Owen flopped backwards onto the bed, relaxing instantly as Charlie’s scent engulfed his senses. He zoned out, just focusing on breathing, until he was jolted back to reality by Margaux poking his cheek.

“Daddy wants to talk to you.” She informed him, and he took the phone, pressing it back to his ear.

“Yeah?”

“She’s gonna go to sleep now.” Charlie said, and Owen breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “I’m sorry I disrupted your night and bothered you when you’re trying to have time off.”

“You didn’t.” Charlie assured him.

“I couldn’t even get her to go to sleep.” Owen mumbled, glancing at Margaux, who was already fast asleep, just proving how tired she had actually been. “I’m a failure.”

“You are most definitely not.” Charlie replied firmly. “You’ve made it all the way til now with no issues, even after the complete meltdown she had this morning. Parenting isn’t always easy Owen, even I struggle with overtired Margaux.”

Owen sighed, reaching for the TV remote and turning the TV off, engulfing the room in darkness.

“Fuck, can you just promise me you believe me? I’m too high right now to figure out a better argument.” Charlie whined and Owen giggled, only just noticing how out of it Charlie actually sounded.

“Kid free time is going well then?” He teased, thankful for the lighter topic.

“I haven’t been this high since she was born, it’s nice to be able to smoke without worrying about her waking up or not being sober by the time she gets up the next morning.” Charlie replied, and for a moment Owen felt an overwhelming sadness for the 18 year old Charlie who had been forced to grow up so quickly, with no chance to be an actual kid himself.

“I miss you.” Owen admitted. “It’s hard being here with her without you.”

“You’re halfway there babe, just keep going.” Charlie reminded him and Owen blushed slightly at the pet name.

“I will. Thank you again, for getting her to sleep.” Owen replied. Charlie hummed in response.

“Any time. How was the rest of your day?” He questioned.

“After you left she cried for a bit, and then slept until lunch time. And then we went to this indoor play centre thing with Cheyenne and his twins, and Kenny, Sacha, Jadah and Tori, and Mags loved the twins.” Owen recounted.

“She did?” Charlie cut in, and Owen could hear the smile on his face.

“She did.” Owen grinned. “She begged me to see them again soon, so you’ll have to organise something with Cheyenne. Then we just had pizza and watched some movies before we went to bed.”

“Sounds like you had a great day.” Charlie replied. Owen opened his mouth to respond, but instead yawned, eyes drifting shut for a second.

“Go to sleep babe.” Charlie’s voice was gentle and Owen nodded, before realising his boyfriend couldn’t see him.

“Okay.” He answered. “Night Char, I love you.”

“I love you too Owen. See you tomorrow afternoon.” Charlie replied, before hanging up. Owen let his phone fall to the pillow, too tired to even plug it in to charge.

And with Margaux’s steady breathing in his ear, he finally drifted off to sleep.

SUNDAY

Owen woke the next morning to Margaux attempting to braid his hair, Bluey playing quietly on Charlie’s iPad.

“You awake Papa?” Margaux questioned. Owen hummed in response.

“Yep.” He replied, voice deep with sleep. “You doing my hair?”

“Yeah.” Margaux responded simply. After a moment she spoke up again.

“Are you still mad with me?”

Owen sat up, reaching out to the tiny blonde. She wriggled closer, settling into his arms.

“Oh darling no, I could never be mad at you.” He told her. Margaux thought for a moment before looking back up at him.

“Do you still love me?” She asked, her voice small. Owen’s heart shattered.

“Of course I still love you. You’re my little girl, I will always love you. Just like how your Daddy will always love you no matter what.” He assured her.

“But I was mean to you.” Margaux frowned. “And Daddy said that’s naughty.”

“It is naughty, but I forgive you. Because I know you were just very tired.” He told her. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Papa.” She said quietly. Owen pressed a kiss to her head, playing with her curls like he knew Charlie did, hoping the familiar gesture would reassure her.

“I know honey, it’s okay, I promise.” He whispered.

“Love you.” Margaux mumbled, pressing her face into his neck. Owen smiled, wrapping his arms around her tightly and squeezing.

“I love you too.” He replied. “Now how about we get dressed and go out for breakfast?”

“Yeah!” Margaux grinned, perking up instantly at the mention of food. Owen laughed.

“Okay then, let’s do it.”

Just over an hour later the two of them were curled into a tiny booth in the back corner of a café, the table chosen especially to try to remain unnoticed by any fans that may have been around. Owen loved the fans but sometimes they could be a little much, and having Margaux with him made him hyperaware of how necessary it was to remain anonymous. He had no idea how Charlie did this.

Owen glanced around the room, picking at his eggs. There didn’t seem to be anyone around who might recognise them, but there was never a guarantee that they wouldn’t be noticed.

“Can I have some of your one Papa?” Margaux questioned, catching Owen’s attention.

Owen’s head snapped back, his attention now solely on the four year old in front of him.

“Which one darling?” He asked.

“That one.” She pointed to the cooked tomato that he had pushed off to the side of his plate. Owen nodded, placing it on her plate and shaking his head when she dipped it into the leftover maple syrup. Charlie really was raising his clone.

“Are you full?” Margaux questioned after scoffing down the tomato, eyeing his eggs. Owen chuckled, scooping the eggs onto her plate too.

“Hungry this morning huh?” He teased. Margaux grinned at him, her mouth full of his eggs.

“Patrick says it’s cause I’m a growing girl.” She informed him.

“I think Patrick is right. You were only tiny when I first met you and now you’re huge!” He emphasised the last word and Margaux laughed loudly.

“You’re silly Papa.” She said between laughs. Owen grinned.

“Excuse me?” A voice came and Owen’s heart stopped for a moment, looking up to find an elderly woman smiling at him.

“Yes?” He answered politely. She didn’t look like the type to watch the show, but you could never be sure.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to compliment you on how well behaved your daughter is.” She smiled and Owen couldn’t help the light blush that covered his cheeks.

His daughter.

“Thank you.” He replied and the woman nodded, smiling at Margaux, before wandering away.

Owen took a deep breath, collecting himself, before tuning his attention back to Margaux.

“You ready to go kiddo?” He questioned. Margaux nodded, so Owen stood up, taking her hand and leaving the cafe, thanking the waitresses as they left.

“So what do you wanna do today?” Owen asked as they began the short walk back to Charlie’s place. Margaux pulled a face as she thought.

“Can we watch some more House Hunters?” She questioned, making Owen laugh.

“Of course we can.” He agreed.

It was just after 2pm when Margaux shifted in his arms, where she had settled down to watch House Hunters hours ago.

“Papa? I’m hungry.” She mumbled. Owen played with one of her pigtails.

“What would you like to eat?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, as Owen’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Why don’t you have a little think then.” Owen suggested, pulling out his phone and smiling when he saw Charlie’s name on his screen. He answered quickly.

“Hey!” He greeted.

“Hey babe. I’m just leaving now, will be home in maybe an hour?” Charlie’s voice came through the phone.

“That’s great, we can’t wait to see you. We were just talking about getting some lunch, would you wanna pick something up on the way home?” Owen asked. Charlie laughed.

“I can do that. Anything in particular?” He questioned. Owen turned his attention back to the blonde in his arms.

“You decided on what you wanna eat yet Maggie?” He asked. She shook her head.

“No.” She replied simply. Owen chuckled.

“Want Daddy to pick something? He’s coming home now and he’s gonna get lunch for us on the way.” He suggested. Margaux lit up at the suggestion. Or maybe the idea that her Dad was on his way home. Probably both.

“Yes please.” She grinned.

“Hey Char? Your pick. Just not pizza cause we had that last night.” Owen informed the older boy.

“Okay cool, I’ll see you guys in like, 30 minutes then.” Charlie answered, and Owen could hear his car starting in the background.

“See you then.” Owen smiled. He really had missed Charlie, and he knew Margaux had missed her father just as much, if not more.

“Love you.” Charlie’s voice came, breaking Owen out of his thoughts.

“Love you too.” Owen replied, before hanging up and turning to Margaux. “Okay Maggie, what house are they picking?”

The four year old paused, thinking.

“The blue one.” She decided.

“With the pool?” Owen checked, and she nodded.

“Yeah that one.” She said. He looked up at the TV, just in time to see the house again.

“Cause it’s got a pool?” He questioned. Margaux nodded, settling back into his arms again.

“And it’s blue.” She giggled. “Blue house and blue pool. That’s the best one.”

“You know what? I think you might be right.” Owen laughed, and the two of them turned their attention back to the TV to find out which house the couple chose.

Just under half an hour later Charlie arrived home, unlocking the front door and entering the quiet house, his arms full of Chinese takeout.

He could hear muffled giggles coming from his bedroom, so he dropped his bags and headed down the hallway, entering his room to find Owen and Margaux curled up in a pile of Squishmallows, the lifestyle channel playing loudly on the TV.

“Daddy!” Margaux exclaimed, jumping up and throwing herself at him. He stumbled, but caught her, handing the food off to Owen so that he could properly hug his daughter.

“Hey baby.” He greeted, squeezing her tightly as she clung to him like a baby koala.

“I missed you.” She whined. “Don’t go away again.”

“I’ll try not to.” He laughed. “Did you have fun with Papa?”

She launched into a complete recount of her weekend as Charlie placed her back down onto the bed and plopped down next to Owen, snuggling close to the blond in greeting.

“You survived.” Charlie grinned, placing a kiss to Owen’s shoulder. Owen chuckled.

“Barely.” He replied, scooping fried rice onto one of the paper plates that the restaurant had provided. Charlie shook his head.

“But you survived. That’s all that matters.” He said, and Owen glanced at Margaux before nodding.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed.

And as Charlie settled back into Dad life, he couldn’t help but wish that this was how life could be every day.

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie series #single dad!charlie x owen #charlie gillespie #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #margaux

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 22

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Sorry this took forever. Life has been strange (as I’m sure you’re all well aware). I have so appreciated hearing from all of you, and I’m sorry for the torture I put you through. So, I won’t keep you any longer. Without further ado... Enjoy!

Harsh daylight pierces through Rowan’s eyelids, and he groans and buries his nose into his pillow, feeling exhausted. He has barely slept a few hours, and already his body is waking him up, ruining the paltry amount of rest he was able to get. He’s surprised when his pillow sighs softly and twitches beneath his extended arm. Some time during his limited sleep, Rowan has returned to his default place; wrapped around Aelin. For a brief second, he forgets that anything is amiss as he breathes her in. But when she moves beneath him again, it all comes rushing back, and he feels like there’s an arrow piercing through his chest.

He stiffens and pulls his arm back slowly, not wanting to wake her. He holds his breath, hoping she remains asleep as he extracts himself from the bed. The starched sheets crinkle loudly under his movements, and he listens nervously for Aelin’s breath to change. He’s relieved when she stays unmoving, and he creeps into the bathroom to shower and change into his clothes, needing a few more minutes alone before being forced to deal with her pitying gaze again. He’s never felt so small or pathetic.

The shower does nothing to lift his mood – the soft trickle of water barely able to cover his body as he tries to wash Aelin’s soap from his skin. He knew he should have brought his own toiletries, but she insisted it was more practical to share. Now he’ll have to smell like her the whole fucking day on top of everything else. He scrubs his skin roughly, turning it red, trying to claw out of his own body. But it’s useless. He’s stuck there.

When he makes his way back out to the room, Aelin is awake, pulling her rumpled hair up into a messy bun. She turns when she hears him, and his entire body freezes upon locking eyes with her. She looks like she’s about to open her mouth, but Rowan isn’t ready to hear anything else she has to say right now. Unless it’s – I love you, too. And he has a feeling it’s not. He gives her a stiff nod, dismissing her, and averts his eyes, the crunch of the carpet deafening as he steps across.

She takes the hint and goes into the bathroom without instigating any conversation, and Rowan releases a shaky breath. At the sound of the shower turning on, he gathers his few things and clears out of the room.

The bus is already waiting in the driveway, though no one but the driver is on it yet. Rowan doesn’t care – he’s grateful for the silence. He takes the first seat and leans his head against the cool glass, letting his eyes close again.

He doesn’t open them again until the bus starts to fill up. The excited chatter from his coworkers drains him further, pushing him into an even worse mood. Their happiness has never made him feel more alone. He’d been looking forward to this weekend for so long, and now he’s thinking about the quickest way to make an escape. He wonders if he could fake an emergency sickness and get out of the day. But he knows he has to stick it out and be braver than that. If only he could erect walls fast enough, thick enough, to keep her warm gaze and soft laughter out of his head. He stares out the window, his head tilted away from the aisle, so as not to inadvertently make eye contact with someone he’d rather not. He exudes a – stay the fuck away from me – vibe, which he’s grateful everyone picks up on, and the seat next to him remains blissfully empty.

He focuses on his breath as Aelin and Elide pass him. He smells Aelin’s soap on her freshly showered skin, and it takes everything in him not to turn his head toward her. But he keeps his gaze firmly rooted out the window. He doesn’t need to see how beautiful she looks this morning, and he definitely doesn’t want to see her smiling with Elide, pretending like everything is fine. He’s not ready yet.

Lorcan gets everyone’s attention and explains the day to them. Rowan looks up at the man, catches one glimpse of his twinkling eyes and buoyant smile, and has to look away. It seems like he and Elide didn’t let their shoddy location ruin their plans. Lorcan’s happiness is blinding, and Rowan hates the way his stomach churns with jealousy.

“Rough night?” Lorcan says with a small chuckle as he takes the empty seat beside Rowan, and Rowan grunts his response. “Didn’t get much sleep?” Lorcan prods, and Rowan simply nods, not wanting his voice to break and give him away. Lorcan is too happy to notice, though. “Me neither,” he says with a wide smile, oblivious to Rowan’s despair. Lorcan slaps Rowan’s knee. “Don’t worry. We’ll get some coffee in you, and you’ll be good as new.”

Rowan forces a smile in return, wishing that were true. If only caffeine could fix a broken heart.

The drive to the lodge is far too short, and they get off and are greeted by their retreat leaders, Petrah and Imogen – an elderly lesbian hippie couple with long unruly hair and tie-dyed t-shirts and tevas. Petrah shows them to their breakfast spread, an incredible buffet that overlooks the shimmering lake. She encourages them to eat their fill because it’s going to be a long (but fun!) day.

Rowan wishes he were feeling better, because he would photograph the shit out of this place. The sun reflects off the smooth surface of the lake, glinting gold across the deep blue-green expanse. It reminds him of Aelin’s eyes. He sighs and grabs some scrambled eggs and half a bagel, avoiding the sugary pastries he know will make him feel ill if he tries to eat right now. As it is, he can barely shovel a few bites of eggs into his mouth before he starts feeling nauseous.

The cloying smell of icing and sugar hits his nose as someone takes a seat next to him. He doesn’t have to look to know who it is. Every time she’s around him, his skin starts to prickle and his heart starts to race. Rowan takes a long sip of his coffee and keeps his eyes trained on the scenery in front of him. He takes in the clear blue skies scattered with puffy white clouds, and the pine trees dotting the banks of the lake, looking like a Bob Ross painting – lush and happy. He manages to finish his entire bagel, somehow, despite the feeling of Aelin only a few inches away. He’s grateful for the silence, despite her proximity, because he’s not sure what he would say to her. Or what she would say to him. He needs more time to lick his wounds, preferably without her sticking her fingers into them, making him bleed out slowly. He’s about to stand and throw away his plate when she breaks the silence.

“Are you really just not going to talk to me anymore?” she whispers, her voice low, and Rowan finally looks over at her.

She looks just as tired as he feels, dark circles prominent beneath her eyes as she brings her mug of coffee to her lips. Her hair is down, still half-wet from her morning shower, and her tanned skin is on display in a white tank top and jean shorts. He watches her fingers grasp at the necklace hanging at her chest, needing something to fiddle with as she looks at him nervously. Her brows are furrowed, waiting for his reply, and he hates the way his heart thuds in his chest just from looking at her.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he finally replies. He knows he should bite his tongue and leave it at that, but he can’t resist pushing, reminding her of why this is all happening. “You didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”

Aelin’s lips tug down as she swallows her coffee. She stares at the pastry on her plate, frowning.

“I thought…” she begins and sighs deeply, twisting her necklace around her fingers again. “I thought,” she repeats herself, a large crinkle forming in her forehead as she attempts to say something. “I thought we’d still be friends,” she finally says and looks over at him, her blue-gold eyes stormy with emotion, and it pains Rowan to see it. He hates that he has to be cruel to make her stay away, but he suddenly feels like he’ll suffocate if she keeps looking at him like that.

“You thought wrong,” Rowan snaps, just wanting her to leave him alone to his misery. He has no interest in being Aelin’s friend. He’s never been Aelin’s friends. They’ve fucked and fought, but they’ve never been friends. Not really. They really skipped over the friend part of friends with benefits. This is what he gets in return.

Aelin opens her mouth and closes it again. He watches as fury burns in her eyes, the cold blue melting into molten gold.

“I didn’t peg you for an asshole,” she says, and Rowan has to laugh at that. His laugh is loud and hearty, and it surprises Aelin, whose eyes widen.

“I’m not an asshole, Aelin,” Rowan laughs again. “I’m a sad sap, who got sucked into some pretty rich girl’s orbit and was told he wasn’t good enough to stay there.”

He stands, not wanting to watch the guilt flash across Aelin’s face. It doesn’t escape his notice that she doesn’t refute his statement, though. Not that she could. He walks away, and she doesn’t follow. She simply sits, staring out at the water, completely still. It gives Rowan a moment to breathe. But just barely. Because the day is starting, and he fears he won’t be able to escape her.

They split into smaller groups for their hike – randomly selected as they count off by six. Rowan is relieved when he somehow manages to avoid being in the same group as Aelin. He can’t be around her right now. He needs space to clear his head. And nothing clears his head as well as physical activity does.

The hike is less grueling than he wants it to be, but it’s a fairly steady incline for a solid two hours. So, Rowan pushes himself, staying with the group leader – a young woman named Rhiannon – maintaining their swift pace up the mountain. As he walks, Rowan tries his very hardest to silence the angry thoughts pushing at the sides of his consciousness, begging to be listened to, but it’s impossible. All he can hear is his own berating voice telling him how inadequate he is, how of course Aelin wouldn’t want to be with him. Why would she? He’s a loser. A nobody who’ll amount to nothing, despite his greatest wishes to do something with his life. His own father didn’t even love him enough to stick around, how could he have been stupid enough to think Aelin would feel something for him?

Rowan pushes his sweaty hair from his forehead and tries not to let that thought choke him. It’s the one that’s buried deepest inside him, under layers and layers of thick skin and avoidance, and the only way he can function is if it stays there.

His head pounds, so he takes a seat on a nearby rock while he waits for the rest of his group to catch up with him. He barely has a few minutes to collect himself before they’re walking across the mountain peak. Rhiannon explains the history of the mountain and its lore, but Rowan catches sight of Aelin ahead of him and stops listening.

It turns out he should have listened because it becomes clear that his group is combining with Aelin’s for the rest of the day. They’re going to complete a team building ropes course together. Of course. So much for avoidance.

Aelin’s group leader, a skinny, nerdy looking guy named Ravi, leads them to their first ropes activity – a tall pole they’ll have to climb up, and then cross an unsteady bridge, made of floating planks. Once they all cross that, they’ll have nine more “challenges,” he explains, until they reach the final one – a zip line, which will bring them down to the bottom of the mountain. He holds up a harnesses and explains how to put it on, using Rhiannon as his model, pulling each of the flaps tight.

“These harnesses are what’s going to keep you safe all day,” he holds it out for everyone to see, “So, after putting it on, grab a friend to test it and make sure it’s completely secure.” He tugs at the harness around Rhiannon’s waist, motioning everyone to follow.

Rowan grabs a harness and climbs into it, pulling the legs tight and then the waist. He knows he needs to find someone to test it, and his eyes inadvertently seek out Aelin’s. She’s just stepped into hers too. He briefly considers walking to her when he’s interrupted by a short blonde, who he’s sure he’s worked with at some point, but he struggles to remember her name.

“Hey, Rowan,” she starts, her voice high, almost as if she’s purposefully talking like a small child. “Mind checking for me?”

She pulls her loose top up to reveal her pale skin, and bunches it in one hand. She looks up expectantly at Rowan with wide blue eyes, and Rowan has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her overzealous blinking. He’s sure she’s trying to bat her eyelashes or something, but it really just looks like she’s gotten something in her eye.

He gives her harness a quick tug. It stays, and so he takes a large step back. But the girl doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“I can check yours, too,” she says, and without a second thought, shoves her hand under his harness, grazing Rowan’s crotch as she goes. She takes a step closer and places her other hand against Rowan’s stomach. He cringes away from her, trying to escape, but he finds himself trapped. “Why haven’t we hung out this summer?” she asks, and Rowan, as politely as he can manage, removes her hands from him and takes another step back. The girl pouts, clearly unhappy with Rowan’s reaction. But as his eyes lift, he can’t help but smile.

Completely unaware, over the girl’s shoulder, Aelin glares, her eyes practically lighting a trail of fire to where they stand.

“Remelle!” she calls out, far too loudly, given how close she’s standing. Remelle, right.

Remelle turns away from Rowan, annoyed, to see who’s calling her name, and frowns upon seeing Aelin approaching.

“Think you could check me?” Aelin asks, her eyes dancing dangerously as they flicker between Remelle and Rowan.

“We’re kind of actually in the middle of something—” Remelle replies, and Aelin’s eyes flash with fury again.

“Really?” Aelin asks, and Remelle makes the grave mistake of nodding. Aelin stops when she’s immediately in front of the girl and smirks. “Cause it kind of looked like you were making Rowan really uncomfortable with your unwanted advances.”

Remelle’s jaw drops, and Rowan has to bite back another laugh at Aelin’s sheer audacity. Remelle juts her chin out as she motions to Rowan.

“I think he can speak for himself. Can’t you, Rowan?” Her voice is cloyingly sweet, and Rowan struggles not to shudder. Instead, he rubs at his chin, grateful for Aelin’s intervention.

“No, she pretty much said it.”

Remelle huffs and walks off, swishing her hips from side to side exaggeratedly. Aelin and Rowan laugh simultaneously at the display, but when their eyes meet, Rowan’s smile falls again, remembering he’s supposed to be staying away from this girl who twists him into knots without a second thought.

Still, when she takes a step forward, he dutifully tugs at the harness around her waist. His knuckles brush against the soft skin of her stomach, which is exposed underneath the short hem of her tank top.

He stills when she places her hand atop his and gives him a sad look. “Rowan…”

The pain in her voice shakes him out of whatever trance she’s placed him under, and he removes his hand quickly. “You’re good,” he says roughly.

She clasps her hands in front of her waist and sighs softly. “Rowan, I’m—”

“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” he rushes out in a breath, and she nods tightly. “I need some space.” And he does. He can’t bear this closeness. It hurts way too much. He knows he’ll just keeping getting pulled in over and over, and he made a stand last night. He finally stood up for himself and his feelings, and he needs to keep that boundary secure. It’s the only way he’ll be able to live with himself. She nods again, but she can’t hold herself back from replying.

“I leave in a week,” she says softly. “How much space are you going to need?”

“I don’t know,” Rowan says. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Aelin nods, and Rowan is relieved when Ravi calls the first person to come forward and start the course, directing everyone’s attention to the tall beam.

Surprisingly, Rowan is able to concentrate on each ropes challenge, and is actually good at them. He crosses the unsteady bridge with ease, is used as the anchor for their giant ladder, hoists everyone up and over the cargo net, scoots up the fallen log beam, and glides across the single line bridge with ease. He impresses even himself, and by the end of the day his body is sore from effort and his skin is slick with sweat from exertion, but he feels better. The crisp mountain air feels cool against his skin as they make their way to the final platform.

Ravi clips his harness to the carabiner, and gives Rowan a large push. He zooms down the side of the mountain, the zip line giving him the best view of the giant peak and mountain in the distance. As Rowan speeds down, the air rushing across his face, he has a moment of clarity -- that he’s going to be okay. He has to be. He’s survived much worse than a broken heart.

By the time he’s back on the bus, Rowan feels oddly lighter. He dozes most of the ride back to Terrasen, and he’s surprised when the bus pulls to a stop in the Playland parking lot.

It’s already dark as they pile out of the bus and make their way back to their cars. As Rowan reaches his truck, he hears Aelin’s voice calling out for him.

“Rowan, wait,” she pants.

Rowan turns and steps closer to her. He can see her throat bob as she swallows, readying herself to say something he’s sure is going to wound him to his core, so he stops her. Rowan needs to say something first.

“Chaol once told me that once you fall in love with Aelin Ashryver, you never stop.” He recalls the conversation with a wistful smile.

“He said that?” she says, and Rowan nods thoughtfully.

“I’m never going to stop loving you, Aelin,” he says, his voice tight with a sudden frog in his throat. “And I need time to deal with that.” Rowan breathes deeply. “So, unless you suddenly change your mind about me, I think we probably shouldn’t talk.”

Aelin’s breath stutters as she looks at him. “But I’ll see you at the park, right?”

“Yes,” Rowan nods slowly, and he’s shocked to see Aelin’s eyes fill with unshed tears.

“And I can say goodbye to you before I leave on Saturday?” she asks. As she blinks, waiting, a small tear escapes her eye, but she swipes it away before Rowan can question if it was even there at all.

“I don’t think so,” he says, and Aelin rubs at her eye again. Rowan’s chest aches. “Goodbye, Aelin,” he says.

He’s about to step away and into his truck when her arms latch around his neck and she flings her body at his. She presses her face against his chest, and he lets his lips skim across the top of her hair. Her hands clutch at his neckline, and he allows himself a tight squeeze around her waist as he inhales her floral scent one last time.

“Bye, Rowan,” she mumbles into his shirt. And before he can say anything else, she’s gone, disappearing into the dark.

When Rowan arrives home, Manon takes one look at his face and stands from the couch. “I’ll get the whiskey,” she says, and Rowan waves her off.

“I don’t need whiskey.” His voice finally cracks under the weight of the sadness he’s been pushing down for the last twenty-four hours, and his eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, Rowan.” Manon tuts with her tongue. “She’s an idiot.”

“No,” Rowan shakes his head. “I am.”

He collapses onto the couch and tilts his head back. He can feel his eyes burn with unshed tears. The couch sinks beneath Manon’s weight, and Rowan falls across her lap easily as she tugs his arm toward her.

“You can’t tell anyone that I cried,” Rowan stutters as the tears finally drip down his face and onto the thick fabric of Manon’s ripped jeans. She smooths his hair out of his face, running her long nails across his scalp, petting him gently. He releases the tears in droves, not stopping them from pouring from his eyes. He doesn’t bother swiping them away. He just lets himself feel. He’s so incredibly sad.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Manon whispers, stroking his hair calmly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, with Manon soothing him as he cries. The only sounds are Rowan’s sniffles, until Manon’s voice finally breaks in. “So, now would be a bad time to tell you that I’m moving in with Nimi, huh?”

Rowan shoots up and looks at his roommate. She bites her lip, her eyes filled with guilt as she examines his splotchy, tear-stained face.

“Isn’t that kind of fast?” he asks, and Manon can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips.

“I’m here to teach you your final lesson about lesbians,” she says with a small laugh. “You now get to witness U-hauling, up close and personal.”

“I’m happy for you,” he says and slinks down to rest his head on top of hers. Manon lets him. “Guess I’m moving home,” Rowan sighs and rubs at his cheeks.

“Your mom will be thrilled,” Manon chuckles, and Rowan groans. This was so not the plan he had in mind for this summer. But, life plans change, he guesses.

Manon pats her lap again, and Rowan doesn’t resist putting his head back down. Manon continues to run her nails across his scalp as she prattles on about the things they need to do before the end of the month. He sighs and nods in all the right places, but he can’t help as exhaustion overtakes him. He’ll think about everything else tomorrow.

~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #cruel summer au #charincharge writes #amusement park au #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #tog fanfic

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calypsoff2 · 3 years

Text

Sixteen.

Dragging my feet as I went into the kitchen, I am dragging my feet because I have a question to ask Mel and I hope she accepts my offer because I really want to go out with Robyn because she goes with the girls, I know she is going tomorrow to Paris, but I really want some time with her, I miss Robyn like crazy even though she is in the house. It’s like she’s either working or dealing with the girls, then cooking. Miss her, I want her to give me some attention or anything, I miss her so much “looking like you want to ask me something there young Christopher” I laughed, Mel caught me there “maybe” lifting myself up onto the counter and sighed out “so Robyn is going” clasping my hands together “child free too Chris, what you going to do with yourself huh?” Pulling a face “I don’t know about that, the whole child free business. I love my girls, that’s all I’ve been doing so it’s a little weird but yeah, I’m going to miss them both” Mel cooed out “it’s nice that you are just like this, so attentive and the fact you just openly admitted that you’re going to miss them, they are so lucky. Robyn and the girls” I chuckled “being a girl dad is crazy, hard work but yeah I feel a little weird but I’m going New York” Mel is staring at me in awe; maybe it’s her hormones “yeah I heard, you mentioned me. How cute” she finds me cute “of course, you’re apart of us but I need a favour. Like Robyn is going tomorrow but I feel like I haven’t had any time with her. I got tickets to the game tonight, I want to take her out and have fun. Can you take care of the girls for me” Mel cooed out again “of course I will, so sweet” I laughed putting my head down, she keeps calling me cute “I be thinking how is she going to deal with three kids, one with her cast on that wants cuddles and the other two that want to fight each other” I don’t know about my wife “she will, I know her” Mel is confident with that, I know she will do it.

Mel and I just looked at each other as Robyn came in and walked out with her salad, she’s eating salad so she’s up to something “she’s busy” Mel said “yeah, I prepared that for her” I added “oohhh proper house husband, I’m jealous. Where do I find a man you” I chuckled, Robyn came back in “thank you, for that. I just forgot to add” she walked off again “she’s not with it, clearly” shaking my head smiling “yeah she is busy as hell, you heard about her ugly team calling me a bum? Well not a bum but like lazy” Mel’ eyes widened “no way, why?” she questioned “well I have some ideas that I need to put forward and Robyn did that for me and they were unsure of me, they said Jah has to be with me because they don’t trust me. But it’s whatever, but how is you? Nervous, first baby and all that. It’s exciting, I don’t want you to feel like what happened between you and that dumbass has put a downer on what you got because it ain’t like that, you are truly blessed and I am excited for you” Mel is really finding me cute “I think it’s my hormones but I just feel thankful, you are so sweet but I am just taking it every day as it comes, Robyn has already claimed she is the father” I laughed “yeah, well you know I am here for you. I think you need to stay away from bad vibes, meaning TJ. He will bring you down” I hope she does “TJ did say he wanted to meet with me and I am a little apprehensive with it but I will be meeting him” letting out an oh “are you going to come with us to New York?” I hope she is “erm I don’t know, I like California a lot” I have a feeling that Mel is going to end up being with TJ, I just got a feeling but I hope not because Robyn will cancel her forever.

Closing the office door behind me, Robyn is on the phone so I will be quiet as possible. She looked at me and then looked away, why is it she seems busier at home, I dislike it. Sitting across her “I got to go Jah, just be on the jet tomorrow. Rylee said she wants to next to you, bye” she put the phone down, Robyn looked at me “how can I help?” I laughed “erm, you like the salad? I made the effort, even did the chicken for you” clearly she enjoyed it because the plate is clean as fuck, she ate that quick “it was so nice Chris, thank you. I really needed that, it’s nice working home, you feed me” I cooed out, she’s cute “I’m a good husband? Mel has been saying that too out there, she’s like where can I find a you, I’m like I don’t know. But I have a offer?” I want to fuck Robyn so bad “I’m listening” licking my top lip “Lakers game tonight” Robyn cringed “I have to go over things with Tina, I do have a meeting and I have to make sure things are packed properly with the girls going with me Chris” I groaned out “but I miss you” I half spat, I am not happy. Robyn paused staring at me, she’s unsure on what to say, I can tell with the look on her face she feels bad “I’m sorry” she finally said “but” she dragged out “I will come, ok fine. Yes I will come, yes I will just move things around, I can catch up with Tina in the morning, you’re more important than that” that made me smile “thanks” she got me smiling now “stop it, you are making me feel bad. Do I not spend time with you?” she questioned, I can tell she is feeling bad “you do but like it’s set, like when we go away for a weekend or when it is a birthday then we just have sex and spend time with each other, it’s not spontaneous. You know” I shrugged smiling “I understand, I really do Chris. It’s hard now but I get it and I feel bad, it’s like either I give you my attention but the girls will want it too, I am sorry. Shocked you haven’t strayed away?” That is a random “now why would you say that? And find who? I couldn’t ever find another woman, not as good as you. You’re perfect, but I am happy. Excited for tonight” getting up from the chair “I will leave you to work, I am going to get my best aftershave out for this” she thinks I am joking but I am being deadass, walking out of her office.

I really enjoyed the basketball game; it was nice to be us and have fun courtside. Instead of Robyn always working and stuck in the office but I had to bring her to this place, the night wouldn’t be good enough for her if we didn’t end up at Giorgio Baldi “I am so glad I chose this over Tina” I cooed out “I mean who wouldn’t want to hang with me but I miss you, I really do and it’s not a bad thing but I just miss you, I miss everything about you in the house. Like it’s a different vibe when you’re not in the home, when mom is home you know it. But I am always here to support you Robyn in the best way possible, even if at times I seem to play up but that is because I am missing you too” Robyn poked her bottom lip out at me “I miss you all too, but I think New York will be good for us, I think we will be able to spend more time together, I will be home more too. I am glad that we are making this move, I wanted this from you anyways. I was thinking you know, if you ended up making it in the NBA, I was thinking about this while at the game, I was like imagine if you made it. I don’t know, I am not sure if you would be with me. I think you would be a fuckboy; I just feel you would be” I shocked she is saying this “really? Robyn I would have been with you, I would have taken you with me everywhere. I love you, the concept you don’t get is that I fell for you, every bit of you. Nothing mattered to me, no money shit or anything. It was you; I would never cheat. I may find a woman pretty but that is not you, you are my forever, you are my best friend. I just wish I listened more to you; I would get far if I did” Robyn laughed pointing at me “see!” she spat “wife knows best, but I love you Chris, I care for you that is all” I think I need to realise that “I am glad you have calmed down with me in regards to having a son, like it got to me because that is all I would hear from you, I just was stressed out so much. I felt like I wasn’t able to provide that to you. You have calmed down with that now” she isn’t wrong, I was very much on it “I’m letting god guide me, I refuse to be like that with you anymore” it was very wrong of me.

Watching Robyn sit down, she went to the bathroom “guess what?” I wonder what the hell has happened now “so in Paris, on one of the day there is a LMVH event, and I am taking the girls with me, and we have matching outfits” poking my lips instantly “what”? she said “matching without me, you know the eldest two are going to love this. They always want to go to work with you, I feel blessed to be honest, my girls have you as a role model, they have you to look too. When I watch them, I see their eyes light up. Mommy is here, and I am not jealous because they are happy. I am glad my daughters get to spend time with you, and I know they are extra happy. Tianna already packing” Robyn chuckled “this is what scares me; I think Captain is right. The eldest two are going to end up being famous and I have tried to keep them away from that but it’s going to be it, I hope but I will be there to protect them, so will you. I know you” nodding my head “I sent off for the treatment for Captain, not heard anything back. I will have to go there myself if he doesn’t” Robyn is determined “you did your bit, let him think on it. you are a good woman” she has a heard of gold my wife, she is the best my wife.

Placing my can of Sprite on the kitchen counter, Robyn and wine is a bad mix. She turns into a freak “we are in the kitchen, come. Let’s go upstairs” Robyn moaned deeply and clutched the edge of the counter tightly, ger hips lifted gently towards mine, wanting to be paid attention too. I drew my hands up her thighs, allowing my fingers to dip between her legs to play with the lips “mhmm you always make it easy huh, where is your panties?” now I am questioning “car” she smirked, licking my lips staring into her eyes. I increased my pressure and roughness until she is moaning “look at me” she turned her head away from me, her eyes fluttered as she struggled to obey. I waited until she could see me when I licked my fingers, cleaning her juices off my fingers. Another moan filled the kitchen. I am getting hard, I mean I have been waiting on this moment, I been wanting to fuck her so bad, she has been always so moody with me “the kids” I said laughing, Robyn placed her hand on over my crotch “who cares, they ok” she said in a whisper, staring into her eyes. I feel the sexual tension between us, I don’t think I can make it up those stairs “can you last” she undid my pants “you bad” I said against her lips and growled, letting my dick spring out of my pants. Lifting Robyn up onto the countertop.

Her waist still my hands, I yanked her towards me, positioned the tip of my dick at her entrance, and thrust into her. Her gasp surrounded us, I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes shut; ecstasy shrieked through my system, attacking my every nerve as I have been dying to just be in side of Robyn “your dick game has been on point every fucking time!” she yelped out, her walls tightened around my dick. I pulled out of her completely, not even allowing the head to stay in, before plunging deeply into her again. Roughly moving her legs, I positioned them so that they were over my shoulder “oh my god!” she yelped out as I didn’t change the pace, I wasn’t about to stop either. Placing my hand over her mouth as I quickened the pace, all you can hear is a thud and Robyn’ eyes rolling back “you feel so good” I breathed out, I moaned out. My hand securely over her mouth, Robyn can be so loud “we need to go upstairs” I managed to say but I am going to bust a nut and then we going, she is bad for this.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfic

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skullrock · 4 years

Text

the party - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

prompt: “For your song prompts can you do one based on Sister and Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge and whoever you think those songs would work best with”

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, dancing, cute and cocky and sweet Steve, smut, fluff

a/n: this fic is rly long but it is wholesome and I hope you enjoy!

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The party was in full swing.

Parties weren’t really your thing, but your best friend, Anna, had insisted that you come to Lisa Hopkins’ on Friday night. You’d been to a few parties before, but tended to skip them, enjoying a quiet weekend alone. But the promise of drinking and dancing and kissing after midterms was a little too tempting.

It was fall now, the weather just beginning to cool. You decided to wear one of those velvet bodycon dresses, as uncomfortable as it was. You were excited at the prospect of meeting someone, despite the fact it would mainly be classmates.

You’re drinking from a plastic cup, some concoction of soda and juice and alcohol. It tastes like shit, but it gets the job done. You dance lazily in the corner, talking to some friends. You mainly just survey the room. Your eyes land on a tall, toned boy with long brown hair and dark irises.

Steve Harrington.

He had been checking you out for a while, both at school and this party. He knew you were quiet and shy, not talking to too many people outside of your group. He was a bit surprised to see you out, but even more surprised to see you in that tight dress. His jaw clenches as he watches you sway. He crosses his arms and leans back, eyes narrowing on you. When you look up at him, he smiles, and you blush and look away. He’s crushing, and hard, blushing along with you.

“What was that?” Anna asks beside you, nudging your side with her elbow.

“Nothing,” you laugh, consciously avoiding his gaze. “I mean - I don’t know.”

“Dude,” she says, grabbing your arm. “He’s blushing. You got the King to blush.”

“Ugh, please don’t call him that,” you beg. “It’s weird.”

Steve pushes off the wall and goes into another room to get another drink. If he’s ever going to get the courage to talk to you, he has to drink a good bit. As a new friend approaches your corner, Anna slips away, following him to the kitchen.

“Hi,” she says to him, reaching around him to grab a beer. He turns and looks at her.

“Hi?” he says.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Anna says, leaning against the counter. “I saw you looking at Y/N. What’s the deal?”

He freezes, cheeks flaming red again, but he tries to seem non-chalant. “Well, you know. She’s pretty cute.”

“Yeah,” Anna replies bluntly. “So, either you go tell her what you think, or I will.”

He turns to look at her, glaring, and she smiles at him innocently. He should have shut up. Anna shrugs and walks away, back to the corner where you are. You furrow your brows at her as she walks up. Your eyes flicker behind her, where Steve is coming from the same direction, looking bothered. Your mouth drops and you whack her arm.

“You did not just talk to him,” you hiss, and she only smiles in response.

The staring game lasts a while longer, getting the both of you more and more excited. You watch as Steve talks to his friends, running his hand through his hair, watching his lips turn up into a grin as someone makes a joke. He’s watching you from the corner of his eyes, keeping tabs on where you are and where you go. Suddenly, a boy approaches you, asking you to dance. You figure why not? and make your way to where everyone else is dancing. Steve watches with a clenched jaw as your skin presses against the boy’s, how you throw your head back when you laugh, how you start to grind on the boy, a flushed look on your face. As you dance up on the stranger, you make intense eye contact with Steve. His hand clenches around his drink and his face flushes, watching your hips work. It feels downright sinful, and you suddenly realize how fucking hot it is in there.

“I’m going to get some air,” you tell the boy, and head off for the back porch. You secretly hope Steve follows you.

Sure enough, a few moments after you go outside, Steve follows. You hear the door creak open and turn quickly to look, feeling your stomach flip as your eyes meet his. You quickly look away.

“Hey,” he says, coming to stand beside you as you lean against the railing.

“Hi,” you whisper meekly, and he laughs lightly.

You both stay quiet for a while. Your heart is in your throat, hammering away, and you’re hot even out here in the cold.

Finally, he speaks.

“It’s funny,” he starts, laughing a bit. “I, um… I never would have guessed you could dance like that.”

You laugh in response, breaking some of the tension, but you can’t bring yourself to look over at him. “I guess I can be surprising.”

“Yeah,” he responds. “I always knew you as the quiet girl. I never woulda guessed you could dance like that… or wear something like that.”

You blush deeply and mentally kick yourself. “There’s a lot to me you don’t know, Steve Harrington,” you say lowly.

“And there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he says casually.

“Like?”

He is quiet for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. “Like how for the past few weeks, you’re the only girl I can think about.”

You laugh loudly, head thrown back, and he looks at you in surprise.

“Do you tell that to every girl?” you ask, finally looking over at him, but you’re met with a grave seriousness that you weren’t expecting.

“Well… yeah, I guess I do. But I do mean it,” he quips, a small smile forming. “I think I’ve… uh….” He runs a hand through his hair, then tilts his head and gives you a signature lopsided grin. “Got a bit of a crush.”

You feel like you can’t breathe. “Are you joking?”

“No.”

You bite your lip and look away. You stay quiet for a while more as you mull over your thoughts. You did want a break from all the bullshit of the past few weeks, and maybe that break could be Steve. Would a single night of fun really hurt? Maybe. It would cause a reputation, sleeping with Steve, but it would also cause him a reputation, sleeping with the quiet girl. His bets are on you, it seems, however. But it’s probably purely carnal. But is that a bad thing?

All Steve knows is that he wants that dress off of you as soon as possible. It’s all his boy brain can muster right now, watching you stare out into the backyard, taking in your curves.

You swallow hard and decide fuck it.

You reach your hand out and brush it beside his, making his breath hitch. You both finally make eye contact, and it’s enough to take you out and make your knees weak.

“I think I’ve got a crush too,” you whisper, inches from his face, and then you both finally connect.

It’s an awkward kiss at first, feeling each other out. But you both quickly get handsy, running your hands over each other, your fingers going for the buttons on his shirt. He laughs and pulls your hands away, but they come back up, and who is he to say no to that? Steve snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. As you grip his shirt and ghost your tongue over his bottom lip, something snaps in him. He brings a hand up to grip your hair and moves his lips down your jaw and onto your neck, making you sigh heavily.

“God,” he breathes. His lips come up and rest on your ear. “I want to tear you apart.”

Your brows furrow comically fast, and you still for a moment, a bit taken aback. But then you realize that’s exactly what you want. You want that rough type of sex, the kind you’d never had before, and the kind that you figure only Steve can give you.

You pull away and take a deep breath. “Take me home?”

He nods and digs through his pockets for his keys. You reach out and grab his arm. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking at you with knitted brows. “Do you live close?”

“Like two streets over,” you say, licking your lips, looking at the chest exposed from the buttons you’d loosened.

“Oh. Well yeah, yeah, I can drive there.” He smiles at you, cockily, making you equally hate him and love him. “Look at you, caring about me.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and he reaches around to pinch your ass before sweeping you away towards his car.

Anna watches you with wide eyes and a large smile, mocking a dramatic clap, and you roll your eyes and wave to her.

As you climb into Steve’s car, the apprehension comes back, biting both of you. Steve’s worried he’s moving too fast for you, or being too forward, and you’re worried about the same. You weren’t a virgin, but you didn’t do casual hookups. You worried you were in over your head. You check the clock on his dashboard – it’s already 2 am. Maybe you should just go to bed and sleep the tipsiness off.

You quietly give him directions, and he follows them hesitantly. As you pull into your driveway, he sits, unsure. You look over at him, and he looks back. Looking at him, his kind eyes, his boyish and pretty features, you are reminded of why you wanted him to take you home in the first place. You lean forward and catch his lips in yours again, relaxing him, and he cups your jaw in his hand.

You grab his hand and lead it down to your breasts, slowly, and he sighs in response, cupping one and massaging it.

“Such a bad girl,” he breathes, and the butterflies go from your stomach to in between your thighs. It’s a bit funny, hearing him say that about you, but you can’t find the time to care.

“No, I’m not,” you respond quietly. You smile. “I just wanted you to come tuck me in.”

He rolls his eyes and smiles back, catching your lips again, hands wandering. You start to giggle after a few seconds of this, asking, “Are you going to tuck me in or not?”

Steve gets out of the car in lightning speed, running over to open your door. You shake your head – why is he being a gentleman right now? – but take the hand he offers as you climb out. You stumble slightly and he catches you, kissing you again. You have to practically pull him towards your front door.

“You have to be quiet,” you say as you go to unlock it. “My parents are home.”

“A shame,” he whispers, pressing into your back. You can feel his erection against your ass and you sigh, pressing into it. “I wanted to hear you scream tonight.”

“While you tuck me in?”

You can’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.

After successfully sneaking your way into your room, you decide to give him a bit of a show while you were feeling confident. You push him away slightly and start to pull your sleeves down, and he watches with an open mouth. You shimmy out slowly, left in panties and your heels – no bra, as it wouldn’t look good under the dress. A wave of desire runs through Steve as he looks at you; he had never been with a girl that didn’t wear a bra. It would not have been a big deal to anyone except him.

You take your shoes off successfully and stand up straight, looking at him expectantly. He breathes out and whispers, “You are so beautiful.”

You notice your anxiety making you shake a bit and try to just focus on his smooth face and pink lips. “Tuck me in?”

He walks you backwards until you’re at your bed. He pulls the covers back and you lay down, goosebumps covering your skin. As he leans down (with a smile) to tuck the sheets around you, you pull him towards you, lips colliding, and he climbs on top of you breathlessly.

Your hands fly everywhere again. Your fingers run through his hair, gaining a moan from him, and you tug it lightly, making his hips buck. You smile at your discovery but continue your hands down. You tug his shirt and he parts briefly to take it off and chuck it. Your hands run down his toned chest, across his biceps, down to his jeans, and he bucks his hips again. He parts from your lips and kisses down your neck, sucking bruises into the skin, and you moan lightly.

“Are you sure?” he asks, coming up to meet your gaze. His hand cups your cheek and you see a tenderness in his brown eyes, one that you hadn’t seen with other partners. You trust him.

“I’m positive,” you pant. Your eyes glisten as they take in every feature. “Do whatever you’d like.”

He stills. “Are you sure? I mean – I don’t – I don’t want to hurt you, or anything –“

“Steve,” you whisper, cupping his cheek. “Shut up and tear me apart.”

He needs to further convincing. He is soon as naked as you, left only in his boxers, and he kisses down your chest and to your stomach. Your eyes flutter closed and you grip his hand, lacing your fingers through his. It’s a simple gesture, but one he had never experienced in bed before. He squeezes back and uses his free hand to rub your clit. You let out a strangled moan, careful to be quiet, and he dips into your folds to pump a finger in and out. After a few moments, he adds a second finger. His movements are gentle, and while you appreciate his tenderness, you want more. You whine and he seems to get the hint, picking up his pace, making your hips thrust and a hand flies up to your mouth. He reaches his thumb up to brush against your clit, and even though its awkward as his hand pumps in and out of you, you relish in the feeling.

You reach down and try to take his boxers off, but Steve pins your free hand to the bed. He unlaces his fingers from yours and reaches down, ridding them himself, and you can’t believe how good he looks. Well, you canbelieve it, as its all his exes would talk about, but you weren’t really expecting them to be truthful. You wrap a hand around his dick and pump as he moans sinfully, hands going back to work at your cunt, mouth wrapping around a nipple and biting and sucking harshly.

You press your mouth into his hair, moaning out his name, and he smiles around your breast, releasing it and going to the other one. The hand not pumping him runs through his hair and you tug, releasing another loud moan from him. He pulls away from you and you stare as his eyes squeeze shut, mouth open in an “o”. You continue to jerk him off and tug on his hair, and he swears he died and went to heaven, thrusting his hips into your hand and groaning, trying not to make too much noise. Eventually he pulls your hand away from his cock and he pulls you down to him.

“Condoms?” he asks. “I have one in my –“

You beat him to the punch, pointing at your nightstand, and he quickly gets one out and puts it on. He laces his hands in yours, pinned up by your head, and lines up with you. You feel like you can’t breathe, or maybe you literally can’t, and you pant up at him. His face his framed beautifully by his hair, and he looks like an angel.

“Are you sure?” he asks again.

“Positive,” you repeat, and he fills you in one thrust.

Steve starts slow but quickly picks up, eventually slamming into you so hard that your headboard slams against the wall. You wish you had the power to tell him to slow down, but you don’t. It feels way too good, to the point that you don’t give a damn if your parents question you in the morning. The feeling of him pulling completely out before plunging back in, his lips on your neck, pinning your hands down: it was all too much to handle. You bury your head in his hair again and he lifts his head to kiss you, drowning both of your moans out. You free a hand and pull on his hair and he whines sinfully, fucking into you even harder, spurred on by your touch.

His hands run down your body and he grips your thighs harshly, steadying himself. He makes a conscious effort to not cum too quickly at the feeling of you, the sounds you’re making, how slick and hot you are, the sheen of sweat and your hair fanned out around you making you look like someone out of his Playboy magazines. Steve finally reaches down and rubs your clit, and your vision goes black, head thrown back, and his lips clash against yours just in time to silence a loud moan.

“I’m going to cum,” you say against his lips, and he grins.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he pants, fucking you quicker and harder than before, making you wander fleetingly how it’s even possible. “Cum all over my cock, sweetheart. You can do it, come on, let go.”

You cry out and his face buries itself into your neck, biting down as he has his release at the same time you do. You see stars, eyes clenched shut tightly, legs wrapping around his hips. His pace stammers for a moment before slowing down and stopping, panting into you. He rests on your chest and you play lazily with his hair, trying to catch your breath. He’s sticky and wet, but you can’t care, just enjoying how your hearts beat together, coming down from their highs.

Eventually Steve pulls out and disposes the condom in your bedside trashcan, laying down beside you after. His hand reaches for yours and your fingers interlace again – a silent gesture of trust.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, and you nod.

“My legs can’t stop shaking, but I’m great,” you say. “Are you?”

“I’m amazing,” he says, squeezing your hand, and you laugh.

You roll over to face him. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

He rolls over and faces you, too, eyes serious. “I do. And I can’t wait to see you on Monday.”

You bring his hand up to your chest, resting it above your heart. “I can’t wait, either.”

Steve pulls you back in and kisses you, gingerly this time, soft and slow and sweetly. His gentleness is dizzying.

After laying in silence for a few minutes, just staring at each other, you start to nod off, and Steve decides it’s time to go. He quietly gets up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He dresses himself again and your eyes flicker open just as he is about to go.

“Steve,” you whisper, reaching your hand out. He comes and takes it, smiling down at you.

“I wish you could stay,” you mumble.

He nods, his content smile turning sad as his eyes turn downward. “I wish so too.”

“My parents –‘

“I know,” he responds. He gives your hand a kiss and releases it. “I’ll see you Monday.”

You smile dreamily. He walks towards the door again, wishing he didn’t have to go, leaving you in all your beaming glory behind. He shakes himself out of it and exits, quietly shutting the door on his way out.

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tags (message if you want to join <3): @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things oneshot #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #me: humanizes Steve as much as humanly possible #sorry anon this took too long!!#hope u kids enjoy xox

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

The Sleepover

Chapter 13 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I wasn’t planning on releasing another chapter so soon but I’m going away for the weekend and I wanted to get one of my drafts out quick! I push myself with the smut scene hoping it actually reads OK! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know! I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Word Count: 2178

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

2 Weeks later

Poppy had broken her arm when she fell. With her arm in a cast, Laila had promised she could come over for a sleep over. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying?" he asks Laila for the 100th time today "I'm starting to think you don't want to stay?"

"I do, I just don't want to intrude" he stands in the doorway of the guest room as she makes up the bed "To be honest with ya, I think if you don't stay Poppy won't be happy. She wants to meet you," he smiles "Fine, I'll stay, but do we get to have our own little fun once she's gone to bed?"

She shook her head at him, "If you a good boy," she jokes, as she passes him "Oh, by the way, if Poppy doesn't like you, we are finished" she teases him as she walks away "What?!" he questions. She looks over her should at him "Joking!" she laughs.

He is about to get her back for that when the buzzer goes, Laila buzzes them up "Hey, Lolly Pop! How's your arm?" Poppy sighs, "Still poorly, Auntie Laila. Are you Auntie Laila's boyfriend?" she looks over to Harry, who crouches down to her level "I am! You must be Princess Lolly Pop?" she smiles at him.

"Are you sure you two don't mind having her?" Nikki asks her "We will have loads of fun, won't we Pops? Plus will give you a night off with Lewis at Uni and Erica at her mates. Maybe you and Stu might get an early night" Laila winks at her "Oh, stop it! How are you Harry?" he looks up "Great thanks! You OK?"

"I'm good just looking forward to a kiddie free Saturday night so thank you! Both of you!" Laila smiles at her "Harry, Do you like dressing as a princess?" Poppy asks, "And on that note, I will leave you to it. Love you Poppy and behave yourself!" Nikki warns her before she leaves.

A hour later, Harry is getting his nails painted, Poppy has already done his make up and his hair. Laila laugh "I've never fancied more than I do now! That pink lipstick around the lips brings out your eyes!"

"Poppy, I think Auntie Laila needs a makeover" Poppy looks over to her then back to Harry "No, she has make up on already!" Laila laughs, "I'm going to make dinner Spaghetti bolognese OK?" they both nod leaving them to it.

Once Laila is out of the room Poppy looks over to the kitchen door, then to her bag "I made Auntie Laila this for her birthday. Do you think she will like it?" she pulls out a plastic beaded bracelet from her bag "Her birthday? When's her birthday?" he asks.

"Mummy said it's in 6 weeks," he looks down at her bracelet "I bet she will love it" she's beaming "Really?" he nods, they have never really spoken about birthdays he had his a few weeks before the stag do. His mind has gone into overtime trying to think what to get her.

After dinner and a bath the credits roll on Cinderella. Laila looks down to Poppy who is fast asleep "Harry!" She whispers, he looks over to her "I need to get her into bed," she moves trying not to wake her, she's about to lift her, but Harry stops her "I'll move her, you aren't going to be able to lift a 7 year old"

She rolls her eyes at him "OK, Mr Muscles!" He picks up Poppy with ease and walks towards the spare bedroom with Laila following him. Laila tucks her in and kisses her good night before pulling up the door.

"I'm going for a shower to wash off this make up!" She laughs "But you look gorgeous," she teases him, he pulls her towards him so her body is pressed against his. His hands rest on her curves, her arms go around his neck "Do you want to join me?" He smirks.

"I would love to but I better not just in case she wakes up," he huffs "OK, I won't be long!" He wanders off to the bathroom.

Laila loads the dishwasher before heading to the bedroom to change into her PJs. Harry wanders in with just a towel around his waist and another drying his hair "Film in bed?"she asks as she's undressing.

He smiles at her "We can put one on but I don't plan on watching it" he winks making her blush. He's inches away from her, she runs her fingers through his damp curls.

His lips crash against hers, his short beard is rough against her face as she pushes herself onto her tiptoes, his arms wrap around her waist and he rest his hands on the smalls of her back. Her hands move to the wrapped towel pulling it off, she grasps his stiffened member and he groans against her lip.

Her lips trail over his neck, down his chest until she's on her knees in front of him. Grasping the base, he takes a deep breath, her tongue circles his tip making him groan. She engulfed him with her mouth as she runs her tongue from the base to the tip, his hand tangles in her hair, he gently pulls a little moving her to his pace.

Her hands pressed against the curves of his arse, each time she reaches the tip she sucks against it "Fuck! Laila...that's..!" his hips thrust forward. She looks up at him and their eyes lock, she loves watching him come undone and squirm in front of her. Harry grunts, each thrust move further inside her hitting the back of her throat as her tongue presses against him.

His legs are barely holding him up, his pace quickens as he's riding her lips "Laila..I'm..gonna" it's too late, he jerks as he hits his climax. Laila smirks up at him, he pulls her up claiming her lips with his. His hand comes to the back of her neck while his other slips into her underwear and the pads of his fingers skim over her throbbing centre.

He walks her backwards until she falls onto the bed, not wasting another second he pulls down her underwear. Propping her feet on the bed as he crouches down at the edge.

He hadn't staved his face in over 2 weeks because he remembers how she told him she loved how his facial hair felt against her most intimate areas of her body. Now was the time to test out that theory, he gently kissed her apex before he parted her folds with his tongue, she bit down on her lip trying to keep herself quiet.

He move from the bottom all the way up to her clit, making her struggle to stay silent, her back arches so her spine is barely touching the mattress. His beard brushes over her centre, making her tingle as she bucked her hips.

He pulls her further towards him, throwing her legs over his shoulders. His tongue swirling round her clit before moving inside her again. His finger dig into the top of her thighs as he rolls his tongue over her again and again.

"Oh...shit!" She moans, he smirks against her, he knew she couldn't keep quiet for long. She clutches his hair, moves her hips to match his rhythm. He can tell she's close, so he speeds up his pace, he runs his thumb over her clit as his mouth works inside her.

Her breathing is heavy, her movements become faster "Harry!" She falls over the edge, not even down from her high, his body covers hers as his hard shaft pushes past her entrance.

His lips claim hers, she wraps her legs around his hips, he fully claims her not taking any prisoners.

"Ohh Harry!" His thrusts are hard, her nails dig into his back. His hands move to pull her off her bra, he softly kisses her lips before grazing his teeth down her pulse line to her chest. He sucks against her breath below her collarbone, she giggles "Harry, you're going to leave a mark!"

She feels him smirk "That's the whole point!" He moves back up to her pulse line teasing that he's going to mark her there "Not there! I can't go into work Monday with a hickey"

He chuckles "Fine!" He moves his hips harder and faster against hers, her heels dig into his arse. "Ahhh! Baby!" Suddenly he pulls out of her.

"Harry!?" He answers her question by flipping her onto her front pulling her to stand, but bending her over the bed with her hands flat against the mattress, he runs his cock over her core before he pushes into her deep, his hands grasp her hips. He draws all the way out just leaving in the tip before he thrust his hips forward into her again, "Ohh!" she moans.

She clenches around him, his pace speeds up and she begins to circle her hips to match his rhythm. He groans "Laila! Fuck! Keep doing that," she continues her movements, which pushes him deeper with each thrust. He pushes her barriers and hits the right spot.

He leans over as he keeps moving inside her, his hands come between her legs and works against her clit "Oh god!" she moans. "Harry....harder!" He thrusts into her again making her arch her back, his nails drag down her spine "Laila, I'm....gonna come" she smirks and begins to circle her hips. He thrusts into her harder, making her own climax build.

He thrust harder, deeper she cries out "YES!!!! Ohhh!" her moans make him fall over the edge "Ahhh..Laila Fuck!" he jerks as he reaches his high. He collapses onto her and she falls onto the bed, still panting "You don't think Poppy heard do you?" he chuckles "I hope not! We should get cleaned up and check on her" he pulls her up with him.

After a quick shower Laila checks on Poppy who's still fast asleep, Harry pops his head in "Is she OK?" she nods and they make their way back to her bedroom "You were so sweet with her today," he smiles "Well, I do have my own nieces and nephews!" she laughs remembering Mila attacking him with a pen.

~*~*~*~

The next day he's making breakfast, Poppy had come into Laila's bedroom at 5AM, but instead of waking Laila, she woke Harry "Brown sauce or red? Choose wisely otherwise we can't be friends" he jokes. She thinks for second "Brown!" he high fives her "Brilliant choice!" he had made them a bacon and eggs sandwich for breakfast.

A little later Laila wakes and finds them in the living room watching The Little Mermaid as she rubs the sleep from her eyes "Morning, sleepyhead" Harry smiles at her. She cuddles up next to him on the sofa "What time did you two get up?"

"Poppy, woke me at 5" Laila pulls away "You should have woken me. I would have gotten up with her," he chuckles "It's fine"

"Can you pause it? I need a wee" Poppy gets up and heads for the loo, Harry pauses it "Between you and me, I think I made a friend," he smirks "Must be that irresistible charm" she kisses him on the lips "The same irresistible charm that knocked your socks off" he winks.

She pretends to size up his head "What are you doing?" she smirks "Just making sure your head will still fit through the door frame!" he grabs her, pinning her to the sofa as he hovers over her, he begins to tickle her "Harry! Har...rrr...y, S..T..O..P! That...ahhhh..tickles!" he's laughing as she tries to move out of his grasp but it's no use.

She tries to pull his hands away, but nothing works, she cups his face and crashes her lips with his causing him to stop. His hands freeze, he deepens the kiss "Auntie Laila, Look, I blew up this balloon all by myself" they stop and look over to Poppy. Laila's a little confused "Pops, I don't have any ballo...Shit! Pops give that here!" Harry realises what she's blown up and howls as Laila rushes over to her taking the blown up condom from Poppy.

Poppy sits back down next to Harry "Auntie Laila doesn't like to share! There are loads in the bathroom! Why did she have to take mine?" Harry chuckles to himself.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 14.

@lem-20 @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @khoicesbyk @shewillreadyou @irisofpurple @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen

#atb #always the bridesmaid #pixie88 #pixie88 original #fiction #fictional story #original writing #original work #harry x laila

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todokanai-suishou · 3 years

Text

April 7th

Pairing Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Fluff

WC: 2,5k

Quality: Not yet golden Raspberry, but definitely rotten Tomato worthy

A/N: "April 7th, but it's longer now" finally managed to post the full thing TT_TT. It's still my first ff and I still apologize for the outcome of this, since I usually do music reviews and (bad) poetry:

Inspiration for it & pt2 were Sticky & April 7th by a Band called The Maine

__________________________________________________________

When you first saw him, he was dancing like nobody was watching

when in fact, everybody was.

You were no exception to the other people staring at him while they were shouting names, singing along to the lyrics sung by the 7 people dancing on stage, so stable and well.

And this man? This man didn’t seem to miss a beat. He moved so effortlessly through every song, having the time of his life, dancing and singing and rapping his heart out

- until he first spotted you in the crowd, watched in awe as you got lost in stereo, eyes shut to enjoy the music

- until you opened your eyes to look back at him.

And suddenly the man who was just dancing along to a fun song that luckily had no choreography, froze just like someone who’d be busted dancing with a mob.

He didn’t know what had hit him when your eyes made contact with his, but he just stood there, unable to move until the eldest came and hit him on the head jokingly, followed by the youngest jumping on both of them.

The Dancer snapped out of it at this point and you didn’t have a single ounce of understanding for what just happened. Usually it was Jungkook lagging, but not during performances and out of all the people you’d suspect to stop moving, Hobi would be the last one to.

Until he was. And he looked baffled when he came back down to earth, whispering to both of his friends as they were finishing the song before leaving to change clothes. He couldn’t help from looking back and subtly pointing at your part of the crowd a few times though

and as he kept on, you started to sense something. From the way he looked back. From the way he pointed in this direction..your brain meanwhile got the bizarre idea that it was you who got him that stunned. Maybe he saw someone else in you? Maybe a fansite? “Oh god please not a fansite.” you whispered, barely audible but turning the heads of the girls in front of you as you started shaking...or maybe an ex? You couldn’t pinpoint it but you also couldn’t stop thinking of the possibility that it was indeed you he reacted this way to.

and you were right about him freezing because of you, but dead wrong about him recognizing his ex, or a fansite, or anyone for that reason.

It was cliché but all the thought at that moment was that, even in this dimly lit room - you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever come across.

The way you danced like nobody was watching, because there probably really was no one watching you, all the while lip-syncing to boyz with fun, you were glowing and the way you suddenly stared at him, with adoration in your eyes, that had him overwhelmed.

“You really fell in love at first sight, huh?” Jin laughed in between changes as the younger one told him about what just happened. “I might” Hoseok fell into a stare at the realisation,. “This is crazy,” he whispered to himself. “You might never see them again though.” Namjoon exclaimed drily from across the room. “I’ll try...I guess?” - “What are you going to do, hunt that person down?” The leader raised an eyebrow and Hoseok sighed. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t until Yoongi - who currently fought with his leather pants - spoke up from the corner “just tell the staff to keep them here. Say Hi, see where it goes afterwards.” and while the leader and Hoseok agreed that this could come across as kind of creepy - the dancer gave it a try. He pointed to you, with the glowing green bracelet on your arm, gave them info of where you approximately were or could possibly come out. He did all he could do for them to keep you there and although you were confused, and quite frankly a little scared of what was happening, you stayed.

And god were you ready to fall on your knees and beg not to be sued with every second that passed, making up critical scenarios and what ifs in your head.

All of them were dead wrong.. You didn’t know how exactly he came to be there, but you remember him coming out in baggy pants, a loose shirt, hair that was still somewhat sweaty but at least brushed properly and he had the biggest smile as he came closer while you and a staff member were still jokingly debating whether ketchup was a smoothie or not. With a breathless “Hi.” he almost scared the living shit out of you.

“Hi” you replied, just as breathless and quite frankly confused. Both your Anxiety levels flew through the roof with each awkward second the two of you didn’t speak. It’s ironic how he wanted to tell you so much, but eventually when you were in front of him, sweat still somewhat glistening on your face and exhaustion written on it in tiny letters, he lost all his words.

It was you who, while still holding eye contact, spoke up. “So...you froze before...are you okay?” You nervously rubbed your arm, but he saw his chance. “Yeah, I’m sorry, it was kind of your fault” an awkward laugh followed from his side, making you nervously rub your arm and look down before he followed up “I got mesmerized by looking at you.” and boom, he had all your attention again. Eyes growing big at his comment. “Wait what?” - “I saw you vibe along and somehow, I don’t know. You just amazed me.” Everything after that was rambling as he tried to explain in a way that didn’t seem too forward or make you uncomfortable and apparently it worked when you let out a chuckle “You’re cute, you know that?” - “Cute enough to go on a date with me?” His sudden question left you as surprised as it did him. He didn’t think he’d do it like that, but judging from you freezing like a deer in the headlights, it was too straight forward and pointless. “Ah you kn-” - “Okay.” This time around he was the deer. And your answer? Just hit him like a car. “okay?” he replied in disbelief. “Yes, unless you don’t want to anymore?” you raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. “no, I’d still love to! How does tomorrow sound?” he asked so cheerfully the change of Aura almost threw you off. “Tomorrow sounds great, I think. Afternoon or evening?” - “Brunch?” - “Could work, might not. I usually sleep in on weekends. My body just naturally ignores every alarm clock I have until 13:00…but... I could get my roommate to wake me up with water I guess.” You said sheepishly.

“So...in case your roommate DOES wake you, how does 11:30 sound?” he smiled, screaming on the inside, hoping, praying, putting all of his trust in your roommate. “Sounds great.” You smiled back and at this moment he was a goner. Almost literally, since Jungkook called for the living, breathing sun to come back, because he wanted to go already. “Wait, give me your number so we can figure more details out.” a phone was pressed into your hands. You didn’t take long to type in your number and call yourself, his smile only growing as you handed it back to him. He had your number. He did it. You gave him his number and if tomorrow was going well, he was convinced that he could die happily.

When JK called for a second time he went away though “Well, I guess I really gotta go. I’ll see ya.” he waved at you and you just copied the action, smiling widely at him. “BY THE WAY” he called out after you “YES?”- “Y/N.... The Name fits you.” - “How?” - “A BEAUTIFUL NAME FOR A BEAUTIFUL HUMAN” and with that he was out of the room, and you and the staff member went out in the other direction, with her clearly laughing as you turned as red as a tomato. A warm feeling spread all throughout you, as you walked into the cold air, excited for what was to come, while the man who just asked a total stranger out just ended up happy dancing the entire night, leaving Jimin internally screaming for deciding to room with the manic squirrel and in serious conflict of whether he was just gonna head into Taehyung's room instead. In Hindsight, he probably should have.

Back then, on that first April 7 in the Arena, you met the man who lights up even the darkest days of your life. You learnt pretty fast that it wasn’t all fun and games, and relationships with Idols are hard. Big Hit bought out dispatch when it came to you, but still, not being able to see each other properly..sometimes was difficult, when all you wanted was to cuddle.

So he left sweaters at your place, and you saw each other whenever the other was near, you two made the, partially rough, two years worth the wait and god does he love you for holding on like that.

But exactly you, or the lack of your presence, made it hard for him to concentrate on rehearsal today. Knowing it’s the same day, the same arena, but someone else in your place. You usually took the time for important dates, 100 day anniversaries and birthdays were shared. Hell, the first anniversary you took leave to visit him on tour, but the second one, you informed him you couldn’t watch from the stage like you did so many times before. “Important family stuff.” you told him and the boys knew he wasn’t his usual self. Still whooped the professional part - except for the facial expressions and while the younger ones tried to coax the sun into shining again after the first Rehearsal, it wasn’t until Yoongi snuck up behind Hoseok with a phone in hand.

While the younger ones were still occupying Hoseok, Yoongi facetimed you and held the phone close to Hobis ear and before he could register anything, he heard “HOBI!” from the other line. Resulting in the dancer getting half a heart attack before turning around, resulting in Yoongi just handing him his phone and leaving. “Baby..” you pouted as you looked at his face. “Jagi, I miss you” a pout leaving him too. “You’ll see me soon, baby. I’m sorry I can’t watch like we planned.” - “ I know, I know” he sighed on the other line and you could feel your heart break. Dying to see your man already.

“I’ll see you soon, baby, don’t worry. We can celebrate after the concert tonight. Just give your best today, and if you won’t, you know I’m gonna find out from Jimin, right?” he chuckled at that comment, giving you a bright smile afterwards. “I know, I know. I’ll try.” - “You don’t need to, you were born to do what you’re doing baby. You’ll do great as always. Just picture me in the crowd, I’m always with you in spirit when I can’t be there - and you’ll get endless cuddles and everything else in the world when we’re home so cheer up.” Needless to say, you weren’t the best in cheering people up but weirdly enough it worked as he sighed out “will do.” giving you a smile afterwards. “Good, now go practice and then - go get 'em. I’ll be off too.” - Wait. Jagi?” You raised an eyebrow. “I love you.” He grinned and you could barely get out “I love you too” before he hung up and brought Yoongi back the phone. Somehow falling into a happy dance again.

“What’s with him?” Namjoon cut in, seeing Hoseok dance between doors “Talked to Y/N” Yoongi just replied and the Leader just nodded. This was normal by now. If he wasn’t everyone else's vitamin e - on days like these you were his and while he was still bummed, the sadness was pushed back by him deciding to just do as you told and picture you there. You’d be off work or family duties or whatever emergency came in between by the time he was done. You’d still see each other. It wasn’t what he had planned and you knew it wouldn’t be, but he’d be happy either way. He was happy with everything as long as the end result was you.

So the rehearsals continued. You headed out the house shortly after facetiming him and he put on clothes, got makeup done and set on a smile, all the while still texting you “I love you” being reciprocated with “I love you too, have fun out there.” It was the last text you sent him before you shut your phone off for now. It was also the last thing he read before he got onto that stage.

And while he loved the crowd, he thought the only thing he wanted to happen tonight was for the concert to end. For now.

Until, suddenly, two years after that last April 7th, he froze up during the choreography when he saw a big green heart during Boys With Fun. He couldn’t help but giggle as he read “Hey, sorry I just got kind of mesmerized by you.”

You, ass, stood there, waving that big heart, with that same green bracelet from years ago. Leaving him as amazed and defenseless as you did exactly two years ago and the grin he had on his face as he came to his senses again was second to none. Neither was your surprised reaction as he suddenly came close to your end, jumping over the barricade and pulling you, who stood just close enough to touch, in his direction. Placing his hands on your cheeks, greeting you with a kiss as the people beside you gasped, awed and the Maknae who saw the whole thing just wiped away a fake tear whispering “they grow up so fast.”

That was definitely not how you planned on your relationship being outed, but then again, he didn’t plan to see you here tonight and you, you had a way of melting his brain and making him do things. “Hey” he then said, almost breathless, still entranced and only looking at you. “Hey” you replied smiling. “So, you kinda mesmerized me and..would you wanna..you know, date?” he whispered in your ear, ignoring the music.. “I’m sorry, I kind of have a boyfriend.” you whispered back, laughing afterwards. It was only seconds until your face was in his hands again. “Then what do you say about moving in with him?” Deer in the headlights hobi? More like deer in the headlights Y/N - and this time the truck hit you. You didn’t know much to say, just frantically nodded and he took the time to kiss you again, softly, with all these people still around, and yet, for him you were the only one.

You’ve been the only one for the last two years. You’ll stay the only one for this little eternity he gets to stay with you..

#hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #bts jhope #hoseok fanfic #jung hoseok #hoseok fluff #I'm sorry for doing this to y'all #If youve made it to the end youre the goat #english isn't my native language #so Im sorry for any mistakes made #music

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katrinawritesthings · 3 years

Text

jonghyun / taemin; runaway; PG

close your thoughts and open your heart // hey love let's run away or you know that part in runaway after the bridge where jonghyun starts hitting in with the ad libs. I felt that in my heart @rollercoasterwrite hi again : )

After a while, a bouncy song worms its way into his head, has his heel tapping on the wooden slat of the train tracks. Taemin is holding his wrist in one hand, poking and pinching at the veins in his hand with the other. Jonghyun twists his hand so he can hold Taemin's instead, lacing their fingers together.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Sometimes I really want to,” he mumbles. He tilts his head away, but only until Jonghyun’s head falls to rest on his shoulder. Then he rests his head back on top of Jonghyun. “Just…” he says. “Pack some shit and... leave.”

Crickets chirp at Jonghyun’s feet as he walks along the dirt side of the road. The sidewalk dropped off about a block ago as he got towards the back of the neighborhood, where all of the big older houses are, the ones that are framed on this corner by the train tracks ahead of him and the creek to his left across the street.

He can hear the creek now, barely; it's summer so it's pretty low, but there's still a very faint trickle of water running through the rocks at the very bottom. He follows it, hands in his jeans pockets, leather jacket over his shoulders, collar popped for style and gay, and alternates between watching where his feet are going in the darkness and gazing up at the starry sky through the trees grown tall and wide by the house on his right.

Soon he comes to the end of the houses, the corner of this block, and faces the train tracks just on the other side of the road. He turns right and starts making his way that way, walking with the tracks to his left now, and keeps going until he hops back up onto the sidewalk in front of the blue apartments that line the road here. There he counts doors, passes one, two, three, four, Taemin’s, comes to a stop, turns left.

There, across the street, sitting lazily on the metal rail of the train tracks, softly illuminated by a street lamp a couple of yards away, Taemin lifts a hand and waves at him.

Jonghyun smiles even though he knows it's too dark for Taemin to see and waves back. He knew he would find Taemin here tonight. Taemin is always out here when he starts posting his emo lonely shit on his blog at 2 in the morning. Looking both ways, hopping off of the sidewalk yet again, Jonghyun jogs across the street and joins Taemin, sitting on the rail opposite him with their feet purposefully close together so that when he gets bored of sitting still they can play footy.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Taemin says back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmh. Buh. You?”

“Yeah. Same.”

“Nice.” Taemin reaches one hand out over the tracks and Jonghyun takes it, a handhold of solidarity over their shitty mental health. They grin at each other in the lamp light, Jonghyun taking in Taemin’s tired eyes and mussed dirty blond hair under his hood and blotchy skin, knowing that Taemin is looking him over as well.

A moment passes like that, and then another where Jonghyun appreciates that moment, appreciates Taemin, appreciates the gay little nut that he always harbors inside of himself for his friend. Then, before he even gets bored of sitting still, he gets bored of not sitting next to Taemin.

So he stands up, just for a second, and moves to sit on the opposite train track, next to Taemin so their sides are pressed together. Swinging his arm around Taemin’s shoulders with enough force that they sway backward and forward a little bit, he smirks when Taemin rolls his eyes at him and leans their heads together. This is good.

“How's work?” Taemin asks him then.

“Oh, awful,” Jonghyun says cheerfully. Taemin snorts, but not in a surprised way; Jonghyun knows that he already knew what the answer was before he asked. He elaborates more anyway: “Hours suck, mr. manager can't decide whether or not he wants to give me none or all of them,” he says, lifting one finger on the hand around Taemin’s shoulders. “Ever since summer started we get way less cool broke college kids and way more entitled Karens, management spent a whole month hyping up a super big raise that turned out to be a whole $0.50, one of the other stockers quit and I got stuck with training the new kid, except the new kid is just the managers son and he refuses to learn how to do jack shit because he knows he won't get fired, and Sekyung transferred to a different store last week before I could even get up the courage to tell her I liked her.”

“Oh, dude,” Taemin says, a disappointed sigh accompanying his words. He turns to Jonghyun with a look that's half exasperated, half sympathetic. “I told you to get on that before you lost your chance.”

“I know,” Jonghyun whines. He knows. Everyone has been telling him to confess to her for like 5 months. “I'm shy around femmes,” he pouts, turning to smush his face into Taemin’s shoulder. They make him all flustered and shaky. It's always been so much easier for him to flirt with everyone else. Taemin’s hand comes up to ruffle through his hair sympathetically, which Jonghyun appreciates.

“How’s school?” he asks into Taemin’s hoodie. He knows the answer to this just like Taemin did when he asked his question, and just like he expected, Taemin groans rough in the back of his throat.

“It sucks,” Taemin says, probably too loudly for how close they are to a line of apartments at 3 in the morning. “It sucks and I hate it. I have too many classes because I need to take so many classes and fucking rich boy mc asshole that always sits next to me in bio always goes," Why don't you just take fewer classes and stay for more years?" and it's like, because I'm not fucking made out of money, asshole, and also, I don't even know why the fuck I'm taking bio, I don't know why I'm majoring in biochem, I hate it, I still can't believe I let my parents bully me into it, and I can't even join the dance club because the fucking dance club got cancelled somehow, and it's like, how the fuck do you--? It’s just a dance club? It's like one of the least problematic clubs in the school? How does that even happen? And all my teachers talk so much big shit about how woke and accommodating they are but they never even let me have one extension on anything, and--”

He stops talking in favor of just curling up his knees and pushing his forehead into them, and then tapping his forehead on them, harder and harder, almost to an alarming intensity. Almost because Jonghyun, knowing to expect it, quickly curls his arm even further around his shoulders and lifts his other arm to push on his chest, keeping him away.

“Hey! Hey... Hey,” he says quietly, close to Taemin’s ear. He drops a tiny little smooch to his temple as well, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Be gentle with yourself,” he chides. He can't keep banging himself up every time he gets all worked up because of all of everyone else's bullshit. Taemin sighs through his nose, whole body sagging into Jonghyun’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He sounds a mix of tired of how often Jonghyun says that to him and tired of how often he needs to be told that. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Jonghyun hums back and then lets it be quiet between them for a little bit. That's what always helps Taemin. Just sitting with someone that supports him and thinking through his brain stuff on his own. Jonghyun likes the comfort of quiet snuggling as well. He didn't walk four blocks in the middle of the night just because he was worried about his friend getting lost on the train tracks 10 yards in front of his own apartment. He was feeling emo and lonely and couldn't sleep, too. And Taemin has to know that, because he shifts closer to him and takes his hand to hold in both of his, rubbing warmth into his skin.

Taemin looks into their laps, at their hands, scuffs the pebbley ground with his foot. Jonghun looks up, to the sky, at the moon and all the stars that twinkle down at him. Both of them are getting lost in the same way, lost in their thoughts, lost in their surroundings, lost in each other's comfort. It's a familiar and easy escape to settle into and Jonghyun rests their heads together gently again.

“Hey love, let's run away,” he sings softly. Taemin snorts quietly, the sound followed by a slow sigh.

“Same,” Jonghyun says. The allure of it is so strong that sometimes he only has his executive dysfunction to blame for not actually doing it.

“Yeah?” Taemin asks, turning to him with a raised eyebrow, so close that Jonghyun can see up his nose. He fights down his giggle in favor of nodding simply. Yeah. “Where would you go?” Taemin asks. Jonghyun grins. This at least is a question he can answer easily.

“Ideally?” he says, and then points a finger straight up at the stars. “Infiltrate NASA, steal a spaceship, blast off, explore the cosmos and find a universe where everything doesn't suck.” He lets his hand fall back down into Taemin’s. “Realistically?” he asks quieter, and then he shrugs. He's never really done more than daydream and he doesn't really have any actual plans. “SHINee is doing that free little concert on the beach this weekend,” he says. That would be fun to go to.

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” Taemin hisses. “I was going to say Japan, but, fuck, I love SHINee.” Jonghyun chuckles. Japan sounds fun too, but, yeah, a chill acoustic beach concert a couple of hours away sounds much more doable. “One time, in high school,” Taemin says. “When I didn't feel guilty about asking for shit like concert tickets or whatever, I went to go see them. And this was, like, before they were popular, so I got front row seats, and Taeyeon did one of her spins, you know?”

He looks at Jonghyun like he expects Jonghyun to know what he means; Jonghyun does. The kind of spins that Taeyeon does when she's dancing, where she winds herself up and then nuts herself around like a top.

“And some of her sweat dripped on me,” Taemin continues dreamily. He taps a spot high on his cheek, next to his nose. “Right here. It was so great.”

“Lucky,” Jonghyun sighs wistfully. “2 years ago I got Junghee to sign a guitar pick for me,” he says. He blushes just thinking about her crescent eye smile, her sharp teeth, her buff babely arms as she handed him back the pick. He still has it in a tiny little glass frame on his headboard. “Do you think she would sign my bass for me, if I took it to the concert?” He asks.

“Probably, if we got up close to the front,” Taemin says. Jonghyun feels his shoulder shrug under his cheek. Then he feels it shift and move more, and sits up a little bit so Taemin is free to dig in his hoodie pocket for his phone. “How far away is that concert, even?” he asks, pulling up a map app and entering in two addresses. Jonghyun snorts as the directions and distance pop up. It's even further away than he thought; about four hours drive. Taemin doesn't snort, but he does sigh in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes and stuffing his phone into his pocket again. “Fucking. Hundred fifty bucks worth of gas,” he mutters.

“I forgot how awful your car is,” Jonghyun says, the words coming out as half of a laugh. He knows he can't talk because he doesn't have a car, but Taemin’s car is a piece of shit. He loves that rusty little bug. Taemin laughs too, embarrassed, probably a little offended. Then he sighs again.

“Plus hotel costs,” he mumbles. “You know I can't drive at night. It's scary.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun says. He can't relate, but he understands. “Train tickets are only like, eight bucks each,” he says. “$30 round trip, that's not bad. Still would have to find a hotel, though.” The trains stop running too early around here.

“Does it even have to be a round trip, though?” Taemin says absently. “I thought we were running away.”

“Oh yeah,” Jonghyun says. He yawns into his popped collar, and then smiles as a wild thought appears in his brain. Leaning back on his hands so the pebbles skittered all over the ground dig into his palms, he says, “What if when we get there and I get Junghee to sign my guitar, I show her some of the songs I've written and she's so impressed she hires me to be like, her roadie slash groupie slash songwriter?”

“Dude, yeah,” Taemin grins. “and Gwiboon wouldn't be able to resist my super cute face,” he says, poking his own cheek proudly. Jonghyun snorts, giggling into his shoulder.

“Please, she has standards,” he says, elbowing Taemin in the side. Taemin just shrugs lazily.

“Not high ones, you've seen how soft she is for Taeyeon.” and Jonghyun can't argue with that, so he doesn't. He just shakes his head fondly as he thinks about his 5 favorite ladies. Looking up at the stars, he finds his favorite one and smiles at it while Taemin yawns into the back of his hand. “We could pick up jobs with them, if we tried,” he says quietly. “You know they've talked about needing more help on their tours. We could just... Go. right now. Just us two. We could do it.”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says, just as quietly. It really could happen. If they went. If they tried. He turns his head to his left to look at Taemin, to say something, but before he can, something behind Taemin catches his attention. Further down the track, way further, down on the main road, red lights blink slowly back and forth. And one big bright yellow light in the middle of the track slowly approaches. Faint dinging from the train crossing reaches his ears now as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles, and stands up. When Taemin blinks at him in question, he reaches both hands out to help him stand. “Train’s coming,” he says, nodding down the track.

“Oh,” Taemin says, looking down there himself. He pulls Jonghyun off of the track, to the little metal fence on the other side of it that separates them from the ditch between the track and the high soundproof walls that encase the fancy rich people apartments.

They hoist themselves up and sit on top of the fence, Jonghyun slipping his arm behind Taemin to hold on to the railing on his other side, keeping him safe. Together they watch the train slowly draw near, chugging it's way along steadily, thick clouds of smoke puffing from the front. It moves slowly; it's one of the usual supply trains that runs on this track, not one of the fast public transportation trains. Jonghyun watches the line of cars on the main street pile up behind it, amused.

It takes at least five minutes for the train to actually come near them, the scent of metal and grease and rust and smoke thick in the air. As it draws near, Taemin raises a hand in a lazy wave. Jonghyun smiles, then is filled with a sudden impulse.

Slowly, hesitantly, with all of the same hope in his heart that he had when he was 8 years old, he lifts his hand next to his head and pumps it up and down twice. Then he waits, other hand gripping tight to the railing in anticipation. He can't see the conductor in there; it's too dark, and the headlight makes it too bright in all of the wrong places. The train chugs ever closer, almost passing them, and Jonghyun starts to lose hope, but then--

The train whistle sounds, 2 long notes, just as the front cabin passes them.

The sound blasts through the night air, no doubt annoying everyone except Jonghyun, who does his biggest and loudest woohoo!, both hands raised high in the air, fists pumping back and forth triumphantly, and Taemin, who has one hand on the fence and one hand on Jonghyun’s thigh as he doubles over laughing.

It's exhilarating; Jonghyun feels ecstatic, rejuvenated, alive. His heart beats against his ribs, his lungs expand with huge breaths of air, his cheeks almost hurt from how wide and hard he's smiling, his body tingles, the warm summer breeze feels extra sharp against his skin. He watches the train go, gratitude and excitement in his soul, feeling so light and so bright from that small favor from a friendly stranger that he feels like he'll burst into a million elated pieces.

It's overwhelming, almost. How happy he is right now, in this isolated moment, how intense the emotion is. He never gets emotions this intense anymore. He loves it, loves feeling so much so suddenly, so hard, so positive. It fills him up all the way, starts in his chest and expands to every single part of his body, and Taemin’s continued laughter next to him only makes him feel better.

He turns around, takes in Taemin’s wide open mouth and round red cheeks and scrunched up eyes and feels like with him, he could feel this happy all the time. His heart, already so full and so happy, beats even faster, feels so good, so good that he reaches up and cups Taemin’s face in both hands and presses a kiss firm to his mouth.

Taemin makes a noise into his mouth, not surprised, just a little muffled exclamation. Jonghyun keeps kissing him, shallow, simple, just to feel their mouths together, to prolong this moment of happiness, to share it with his friend. Taemin, after a moment, kisses him back, a breath of a laugh puffing over Jonghyun’s upper lip. His hands come up and cover Jonghyun’s, not to move them away, but to hold.

“Yeah?” he asks between two kisses. His voice is a little incredulous, but mostly resigned, and a little enamored. Jonghyun nods, moving their hands down together to rest gently around Taemin’s neck and angle him better into the kiss.

“Yeah,” he smiles. He loves this, loves kissing, loves kissing Taemin, loves feeling this good. He wants to feel this good all the time. He wants to be with Taemin, to go with him, run away with him, he wants to--

He pulls away for just a moment, and in that moment, looking at Taemin’s closed eyelids, his chapped skin, his softly parted lips, Jongyun’s elation fades away. Reality creeps back in, slowly, a trickle of disappointment. A thought comes to him. A real thought, not an emotion. A thought of responsibility. He sighs, sliding his arms down to hug Taemin around the arms instead, pulling him close and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“We should... Call someone to be our voice of reason and not let us run away,” he mumbles sadly. If he's feeling impulsive enough to want to kiss Taemin and be with him forever, and Taemin is feeling desperate enough to drive to the coast and never come back, then the two of them together really shouldn't be left alone. In his arms, Taemin expands and deflates in his own heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess you're right.” It's awkward when they're sitting next to each other like this on the fence, but he slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and hugs him back. “Jinki?” he asks. And despite how little and sad Jonghyun is suddenly feeling, he snorts and giggles a little bit.

“Are you kidding, his Sagittarius ass?” he asks. “He'd drive all the way over here right now and pick us up. Minho too.” he wouldn't trust either of them to stop a runaway impulse if his life depended on it, and that's him speaking as an Aries. Taemin scoffs quietly next to his ear.

“Astrology hoe,” he teases. Then, before Jonghyun can grump at him, says, “Key would murder us if we woke him up this late.” Jonghyun chuckles a little more. That also is true.

“That's the Libra in him,” he says slyly.

“Excuse me? He's a Virgo.”

“He's a cusp.”

“What the fuck is a cusp?”

“If you were an astrology hoe, you would know.”

“God. Shut up.”

Taemin shoves him away, but he's smiling when Jonghyun leans back and smirks, smiling and shaking his head. He pulls down his hood, runs his hands through his messy dirty blond bangs a few times, and pulls his hood back up. Jonghyun elbows his side gently, wiggling his eyebrows when Taemin glances at him just to make him shake his head again. Then he just grips the railing on either side of his hips, looking back up at the stars. Taemin holds onto the fence too, his right hand so close to Jonghyun’s left that their pinkies overlap, and looks down at the earth.

“I guess if we can't call anyone to stop us then we have to find some shred of responsibility between the two of us and do it ourselves,” Jonghyun says to the sky. He’s sure that between the both of them they can find one small nugget of good mental health and adult skills to keep them from making a bad decision at 3 in the morning. Jonghyun rolls his head to the side to nudge Taemin’s shoulder. “Want to go back to my place and just sleep?” he asks. Taemin breathes out a laugh, feet kicking against a lower rail of the fence so Jonghyun can feel every hit of contact under his thighs.

“I don't want to fucking.” he lifts one hand to rub over his face tiredly, smile still wide behind it, then gestures it vaguely over the neighborhood. “Walk, like, over a mile in the dark, that's so much work,” he says. He nudges Jonghyun back. “You just come sleep with me in my place.” he nods his head forward, over the track, across the street, at his apartment door. Jonghyun raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“I thought I wasn't allowed in your house?” he says. “Because your parents hate me, because I'm a bad influence and I turned you gay and I filled your head with awful horrible thoughts like, free healthcare is a human right and capitalism is inherently evil and no one should have to work for a living.”

Taemin snorts into laughter, ugly adorable little giggles that crinkle his eyes, then shakes his head. Shrugging, he says, “I convinced them that it was actually college that did all of that, and you couldn't have done it because you didn't go to college, so now they just hate you because you didn't go to college.”

“Oh, well, that's so much better,” Jonghyun says sarcastically. Taemin just shrugs back again, looking completely unbothered.

“They're both asleep right now and they'll both be gone in the morning anyway,” he says. “Besides, I bought myself a lock for my door and pulled the I'm a 24 year old adult and I deserve privacy excuse for it. It'll be the easiest thing in the world to sneak you into my bed. Come on.” He hops off the fence, straightens his hoodie around his hips, and then holds out his hand.

Jonghyun looks at it, his weird little fingers, his bony wrist peeking out of the sleeve. Then he looks up at Taemin’s face. Acne on his cheeks, bags under his eyes. He feels nice in his heart, the way he did earlier, but less intense, more familiar. Taking Taemin’s hand, he resists the pull in favor of tugging Taemin close to him instead, pulling him to stand between his legs. Even from here he has to tilt his head up a little bit to look into Taemin’s eyes. He cups Taemin’s face again, rubbing his thumb over his bumpy cheek, and smiles, leaning in to softly peck his lips.

Taemin makes the same kind of not surprised but just amused noise as he did before. His hands slide up to rest on Jonghyun’s thighs. Jonghyun appreciates that Taemin lets him just do this a whole lot.

“Hey, not to be impulsive emotional gay and also genuine soft gay in the same ten minutes, but,” Jonghyun says, resting their foreheads together, letting their lips brush as he speaks. “Thanks for being my friend,” he says. Then he kisses the little humming noise that Taemin makes in response to that.

“Don't mention it,” Taemin says. “Come on.” He gets his hands around Jonghyun’s waist and tugs him off of the fence. Jonghyun pretends to stumble and leans all of his weight on Taemin, clinging to him, smiling against his ear when he staggers for real and makes a surprised, disgruntled little noise. Then, before Taemin can get mad at him, he just swings his arm around his shoulders, steadies him on his feet, and bumps him gently to start walking back to his apartment.

Taemin bumps him back even harder, but he also slips his arm around his waist, so Jonghyun doesn't mind.

Their shoes crunch over the gravel around the train tracks, clink against the metal of the rail, thud against the planks. Jonghyun tilts his head to look up at the stars, thinks that would make a good picture, pauses as that thought stirs something in his memory. Tightening his hold on Taemin so he stops too, Jonghyun puts his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone.

Opening up Instagram, he leans back and snaps a picture of the sky. Then he takes another with the moon in it, his favorite lesbian, and then he lowers his phone and takes a picture of the train tracks disappearing into the darkness. Then he flips it to the front camera and smushes his cheek against Taemin’s, smiling pretty and watching him roll his eyes on the screen.

“Why?” Taemin asks, even as he lifts a hand to mess with his bangs and make them look nicer.

“It's this thing I read online one time,” Jonghyun says, waiting for Taemin to close his eyes and smile tiredly for the camera. He takes the picture and then continues, “to help with, you know, not being so mean to myself all the time. I'm documenting all the times that I feel like it's pretty okay to be me.”

As Taemin hums quietly in approval, Jonghyun raises his phone and tilts it to give them one of those funny face selfie angles. Taemin catches on very quickly, raising both hands in little v signs and pushing up his cheeks. Jonghyun giggles, muffling them in Taemin’s shoulder, before popping back up and tilting his head and opening his eyes super wide so they look gigantic in the picture.

Once he takes it, he pulls his phone back close so he can look at all of the filters and everything. He lets Taemin pull him across the street and up onto the sidewalk as he does. He plays with it, putting filters on all of the pictures except the selfies while Taemin quietly jiggles his key into the lock and sneaks him through the apartment and to his bedroom.

When they get there, Jonghyun snorts at the fact that Taemin purchased a whole ass electronic fingerprint lock instead of a key or combination one. That must have been one hell of a conversation with his parents. Taemin opens his bedroom door and gestures Jonghyun inside with a silent flourish and a huge grin, one Jonghyun returns as he curtsies gratefully and flounces inside like a delicate princess.

Then he tosses his phone onto Taemin’s bed and shrugs out of his jacket and jeans, doing his best not to stumble around and curse when his foot gets stuck. Taemin isn't doing much better; Jonghyun hears more than sees him bang his knee on his dresser as he makes his way to the bed.

Still, they manage to fall into bed together without making too much noise, and Jonghyun gets comfortable with his right arm under Taemin’s head. He picks up his phone and goes back to his Instagram post, typing out a summary of his night so he'll be able to look back on it another time when he isn't feeling as good. Taemin grumbles at the brightness and turns his face into Jonghyun’s shoulder, pulling his blankies up high over them.

Ruffling Taemin’s hair gently, dropping a tiny kiss to the top of his head, Jonghyun finishes his post, sends it, and then puts his phone on power save mode so it doesn't die during their little snooze. Then he curls up on his side, wrapping his other arm around Taemin’s waist and tangling their legs together. He always likes sleeping with Taemin. It's so easy for them to be comfortable next to each other.

“I hope you dream about playing guitar with Junghee on the pier at sunset,” Taemin whispers to him. It takes a moment for that sentence to process in Jonghyun’s brain, but when it does, his heart swells and he squeezes Taemin that much closer, that much tighter. That's so sweet.

“Thanks,” he whispers back. “I hope you dream about dancing with Taeyeon and then you both have the sweatiest hug imaginable.”

“Hell yeah,” Taemin giggles. “Nighty-night.”

“Nighty-night.” And Jonghyun isn't feeling particularly sleepy, actually, but here, with Taemin, he can still close his eyes and let his brain turn off for a little bit, maybe doze for a little while, and that's more than he gets with anyone else.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #jjongsmonth #rollercoasterwrite #fluff #oneshot #pg #ydw #I didn't write the sequel but I do think about it a whole lot #but long story short jung sees his Instagram post and sends him $1000 and is like hey come see our concert:-)#he wakes up to it and nuts and when taemin wakes up he shows Taemin and Taemin nuts #th go see the concert and then like 3 years later theyre roadies : )

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