#thought that brings me to no actual different standing besides “FUCK those dickheads in their ivory tower of fictitious bullshit” is not me

[falinscloaca]

this is no place of honor. nothing good is buried here. like, look at those tags, jesus fucking christ icansayithewasalsojewish there they are, i'm at fucking PEAK 2:11 in the morning brain and i got hooked on the discourse rod like two hours ago at this point? i've been rewriting the same sentence over and over again trying to come up with a way to insult most of the people on this site while excluding all the people i'd feel legit fucking terrible making feel bad (which. includes forseeably anybody reading this unless the grace of god does- AAAAAAAUGHGHGHGGG JUST PUBLISH THE FUCKING THING

yooo this post literally begins "as a trans woman" and is about "discourse", uncool fetish shit, and like. idfk if theres even word for that other thing. People That Are Not Trans Women Keep Your Mouths Shut On This. Maybe Nobody Should Reply At All Actually? i've reached paranoid moralizing stink-beast levels that i don't even really know what to logically do with like i SHOULD post something and this is like my fifth time trying but also it feels deeply unwholesome to either reject or welcome outside input.

being a a trans woman, (which is. fucking relevant because YES THIS SHIT GETS TUMLBRFIED ALONG DEMOGRAPHIC LINESSSSS I'M REWRITING A FOLLOW UP THAT MORE DIRECLTY MADE CLEAR IT WAS ABOUT TRANSMISOGYNISTIC REACTIONS TO THINGS-RANGING-FROM-COMPLETELY-INNOCUOUS-TO-FRINGE-CASE-PERVERT-SHIT-I.-JFC-I-CANT-EXPLAIN-IT-MORE-AGAIN-I'LL-COLLAPSE) one who is NOT immune to internet horny in all its forms ranging from innocuous to.... Less [private information/"backstory" expunged tldr the internet can fuck you up especially if you grow to view it as a place of refuge] and is ALSO extremely adamant that Hey I Think That People Should Face Repercussions For Publicly Saucing Up On "Gross" (don't. make me spell out the exact points at which i think the enjoyment of a particular subject can be morally justifiable we'd be here all week and we'd kill ourselves before the talk was done) Shit but ALSO also the moral phucking filosopher in me can't shake off the feeling that Even Kink Shaming For Legit "Dangerous" Shit (in. interpersonal and cultural normalization ways not "shoot your boyfriend in the pancreas" ways) Still Fucking Counts As Sexual Harassment*** and. ghahghhhh.

at least if i didn't have a moral backbone i could hang out with those smug pretentious fictional bullshit loving DOUCHEBAGS but no i guess i'd chose "foolhardy and can-have-their-sense-of-Innate-Morality-swayed-into-fascistic-tendencies yet barring those incidencees are still fundamentally deep down good" to "i have pleasured myself with uranium-27 every evening for the past three years and its everyone elses problem, radiation is a puritanical myth" (or for that matter "foolhardy and easily swayed into fascistic tendencies and pretending to be good but its mostly people getting mad at trans women for calling themselves dogs or being furries". i do not intend to equivocate The Bad Thing Thats Transmisogynist with my own fucking sad little adoptive poop house filled with people failing to actually make any progress in extricating 'that stuugh' from the contexts where its fucking dangerous but like hey we're trying and i guess thats better than worshipping the the fucking stuff)

*** just bc i call it that doesn't mean arguments can't be made as to why its necessary or for the public good bla bla bla i'm not strictly arguing against it its just. even entertaining that it might be a lesser of two evils opens up so many fucking unsanswerable questions and my feelings-of-personal-shame-and-guilt engines just start kicking in bc this shit can't even be framed as "rationally" or "concisely" as a fucking trolley problem i'm moral relativisming my way into absolutism somehow i pray for hell to be real so that the duty of judgement can be left to hands other than my own for I Too am imperfect (albeit not in a way that gets off to children, LOL, get fucked i do still have the moral highground, like not over YOU necessarily but over those *other* dipshits that neither of *us* like)

[weelittleweasley]

guitar lesson (f.w.)

prompt: the band that the weasley siblings had formed brought new excitement to hogwarts. new music, new 

pairing: guitarist!fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: language, allusions to sex (for like one second)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is literally just pure fluff. pure cute musical fluff.

George groaned and halted his drumming, “Bloody hell, Ronald, it’s not that hard to get the chord progression right after the third time drilling the song!” he cried out before tucking a drumstick behind his ear. “We go from G to B minor to E minor back to B minor. What is so hard about that?” he scolds his brother who just rolls his eyes. “Do we want to get this right or not?” George looks to the rest of the band comprised of his other siblings.

Ron just retorted simply, “It’s the first time we’ve ran this song in weeks, George. Everyone is rusty. Just give it a rest. We’ll get it right next go. Besides, aren’t we due for a five?” he looks to his sister who gives him eager eyes and a nod, signaling they were in desperate need of a break. 

George scoffs at his younger brother and says, “No, you’ll get it right the next go. Which starts now. Ginny, from the chorus. Fred, keep the chords crunchy, it sounds better that way. Ron, don’t fuck it up. Ready?” George directs the band as they all sigh. 

They had only been in band practice for an hour and a half and George was already making it a living hell. Sure, it was his idea to form a band and it seemed like a great idea. It was a way to spend more time together, to make music, to meet new people, and blow off some steam. If anything, Fred was the first one to jump on the offer. He knew that it would be a way for his family to bond, but also a way for him to show off his guitar skills that he had been honing for the past few years. Fred had once said, “Ladies love musicians. Especially the guitarists.”

But now it seemed like the band, which once was a low-key, stress free environment has changed wildly. Almost overnight things took a rapid 360. George had managed to book a gig for their band, The Burrow Bangers, at Three Broomsticks for the next weekend. George had convinced Madam Rosmerta to let them have the whole building for the evening for the gig if they promised to bring in the people. Which would not be a problem. Students were itching to see the band of siblings play. But this meant high stakes for the Weasleys. A real gig, paying them real money, to play real music. All they had ever done before was fuck around and play random music that they thought was funny. But this? This was all very new and very different than what they were used to.

With a few strikes of his drumsticks, George yelled out, “A 1, 2, 3, 4!” And the band swelled with music, George keeping rhythm on the drum kit, Fred wailing on his guitar, Ron strumming on the bass, and Ginny belting into the mic.

“She’s a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, Dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind; anytime...” Ginny belted into the mic, her alto voice resonating throughout the room of requirement as Ron and Fred stared at each other, wondering when they would get a break. Fred looked concerned at Ginny who's voice was obviously getting tired from belting for an hour and a half with no water or bathroom break.

Fred drops his guitar and speaks, “Hold on, hold on!” The band fades slowly before George throws up his hands in protest, asking why they stopped. “Do you not hear Ginny’s voice? She’s tired. We’re all tired, Georgie. We’ve been working non-stop for next week’s gig. I don’t think a ten minute break is gonna kill us,” he protests.

George rolls his eyes, “None of you are taking this seriously. We are getting paid for this. People are coming to watch us. Don’t you wanna be decent?” George rises from his seat, searching the eyes of his siblings for some agreement. 

Instead, he’s met with concerned eyes and tired expressions. Ginny looked absolutely exhausted, Fred looked exasperated, and Ron was flat out fed up. But all were equally concerned as to why their brother was so gassed up over this gig. George sighs, “I-” Fred gives him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, we wanna be good, Georgie. But we need to balance things out. Let’s all take a break for a while. Reconvene tonight after some much needed rest and we’ll talk details of rehearsals then. Good?”

Ron eagerly nods his head before slipping the bass off from around his body. Ginny turns off the mic and starts out with Ron, talks of what was for dinner in the Great Hall. Fred approaches his twin and places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s bugging you?” he asks, knowing that this behavior wasn’t typical for George. It wasn’t like George to get serious all of a sudden and push everyone to work without a break. Something was up and Fred could read it all over his brother’s face. 

Defeated, George sighs. “I don’t know, Fred. I guess I’m getting myself all worked up because I invited Angelina to the show and I wanted to ask to be my girlfriend and I guess I just want things to be perfect for her in a way.” Fred gives his brother a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, shut it, you dickhead,” George laughs, pushing his brother’s shoulder. “You’d do the same if you fancied someone,” he teases Fred as his twin shrugs. “Freddie...you don’t mean to tell me no girl has walked up to you and has told you how hot it was that you played lead guitar in Hogwarts’ premiere band?” he teases.

Fred laughs, “Can’t say anyone has...yet.”

This makes George laugh and shake his brother’s shoulders. “That’s the spirit,” George slings his arm over Fred’s shoulder. The two twins carry back their band equipment as they make their way to the Gryffindor common room. “Seriously, Freddie, I bet I can set you up with one of Angie’s friends. I’ll tell Angie to bring her to the show and she can see just how sexy you look fingering those strings,” George alludes as Fred chuckles. 

“Nah, mate, I don’t wanna just have a set up of a date. I want to naturally meet a girl, you know?” Fred tells his twin as George rolls his eyes. Fred was always a hopeless romantic deep down. Although he had some flings in the past and had his fun with shagging a few girls casually here and there, Fred was looking for something more serious now. Someone he could connect with. “I’m not expecting for the perfect girl to be right around the corner, Georgie, but I’m not expecting her to be a-”

Fred stops mid sentence as he feels his body collide with another body as they walk around the corner of the hallway, making Fred and the person he had bumped into stumble back a bit. “Godric, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t pay attention to where I was going,” Fred looks around at the sheet music that was now cast about the floor. “Did I make you drop anything?” Fred asks, now looking up at a pair of eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

There you stood, a little flustered, in a hurry on your way to the library. You were late for a study group with some of your friends from your Charms class and it would be your third time late this week. If you were late again, they would surely give you shit for it. But as you took in who was causing you to run late, you suddenly didn’t mind. “Uh,” you gulp, “I’m alright, don’t worry. I should have watched where I was going. Now I’ve made quite the mess, haven’t I?” you lightly laugh as you crouch down to help him pick up the miscellaneous pieces of sheet music.

Fred joins you on the floor, picking up the scattered sheets. “It’s equally our mess,” Fred gives you a soft smile as you blush lightly. 

Fred looks up at George who wiggles his brows as if to say Oh La-La! before he winks at his brother. “Oh, hey (Y/N),” George speaks before continuing to walk down the hallway, giving his dear twin some privacy. Fred shoot his brother a look to say, Mate, what the fuck? 

“Hey, Georgie,” you laugh. The two of you continue to pick up the pieces of parchment as you inspect the scribbling on them to be the treble clef. “You’re a musician?” you ask him, referring to the sheets. Fred nods. “What instrument?”

“Guitar,” Fred beams as you widen your eyes and nod. “I’m actually in a band with George and my other siblings,” he tells you. “I didn’t know you were friends with George.”

You hand him a small pile of sheet music before you both rise to your feet. “Yeah, George and I have been friends for a little while. I helped tutor him in Divinations class,” you tell Fred who nods. Fred mentally yells that he wishes George would have told him that he was friends with an absolute stunner of a girl. “I didn’t know that you and George were in a band. That’s really cool,” you tell Fred with a smile.

As you stand before Fred Weasley, you hope he doesn’t know how flustered you were. You had always seen him in the halls with George and admired how charming and handsome he was from a far, but never said anything to him. You could have easily told George that you had a thing for his twin, but you were far too nervous to act on your little crush. You clutched your textbooks closer to your chest as Fred fixed the strap of his guitar on his chest, muscles flexing underneath his shirt as your eyes darting to watch them tug against the thin shirt material. 

Fred spoke, “We started the band a couple of months ago. So it’s a pretty recent development.”

You nod your head and awkwardly stand before him before realizing that you were just staring at Fred’s face, admiring how his lips curled into a little smirk when he looked at you. Clearing your throat, you breathe, “Wicked.” Fred chuckles. “I’ve always been fascinated by musicians. I wanted to teach myself how to play guitar, but I’ve never gotten around to it,” you word vomit, instantly regretting the words coming out of your mouth. Damn it, (Y/N), you might as well just tell him your life story, you think to yourself. 

With a cheeky smile, you watch Fred’s face light up. “I could teach you,” he suggest as your eyes widen. Fred immediately back pedals. “If you want! I mean, Godric knows that you are probably very busy, but if you ever wanted an instructor, I wouldn’t mind giving you lessons,” he retorts as you can’t help but have a lazy smile appear on your lips. Fred’s heart skips another beat as he gulps. “That’s only if you’d like me to teach you, (Y/N).”

The way he spoke your name made your stomach erupt with butterflies. His voice was like honey as words parted from his lips, the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. You watched his eyes as they looked into yours, monitoring how you reacted to his proposal. 

Guitar lessons with Fred Weasley? You would have to be mental if you said no. With a meek smile and you reply, “You really don’t have to, Fred.”

“I want to,” he jumps before clearing his throat, realizing how quickly he answered, making you giggle as Fred blushes a deep red that matched his hair. “I would like to teach you, (Y/N).”

With a nod, you say, “I’d like you to teach me.” 

Fred smiles widely. “Wicked,” he breathes out as you look away from his gaze to hide your rosy cheeks. “Just one catch,” he smirks as you furrow your brows. “You have to come to our show next week. At Three Broomsticks. And bring friends.”

Extending your hand, you tease him, “You’ve got a deal.” Fred shakes your hand firmly as you laugh. “I’ll see you around, Fred.”

You start down the opposite direction before Fred calls out. “First lesson is on Thursday! 4pm sharp,” Fred says as you flip around to look at him. “Tardiness is not tolerated,” he winks at you as you roll your eyes before walking away to the library.

As you walked down the corridors, you could help but smile to yourself. Your cheeks tingled from your large grin as you toyed with the edges of your books. The thought of Fred Weasley’s hands guiding yours as he taught you how to play guitar made your heart giddy. You nibbled on your bottom lip at the thought that danced around your head. Suddenly, you didn’t care how late you were to this study group.

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

Thursday rolled around slowly, but surely and Fred was checking himself out in the mirror, combing his fingers through his red hair, brushing the pieces out of his face. He nervously looked at himself in the mirror. Should he have shaved? Was he wearing too much cologne? Should he brush his teeth for a third time?

He frantically ran around his dormitory room, thinking he should change his shirt again. Maybe you liked the color green better than blue. As if the color of his shirt would determine the outcome of this lesson/date. Fred didn’t even know if he could count this as a date. 

George tapped out rhythms on his bed frame, watching Fred change his shirt for the fourth time as he shook his head. “Freddie, mate, are you really sweating that much?” he laughed.

Fred shot his twin a dirty look. “No,” he spat. “I just...I like the green better than the blue,” he lied, pulling the green shirt over his head and down his torso. Fred darted to his bed and grabbed his guitar and checked the time on his watch. He had ten minutes. “Good Godric,” he huffed.

“You alright? Haven’t seen you this shaken up since the time you thought you ate puking pastilles before your O.W.L.s,” George laughed as he tapped away on his bed frame. 

Fred nervously tapped on his thighs, “I’m fine, George. I, uh, I’m giving (Y/N) a guitar lesson today,” he reveals to his twin who's eyes widen and chuckles, “It’s just a lesson. Nothing else. But I’m bloody nervous about it.”

Sitting up, George speaks, “You got nothing to worry about, mate.” He walks over to Fred and places reassuring hands on Fred’s shoulders. “(Y/N)s a great girl. She’s sweet and funny and proper fit,” George raises his brows as Fred groans. “I’m teasing you, Freddie, calm down. You’ve got nothing to lose. Now get down there and make her swoon.”

Fred was never nervous for dates or flirting with girls. All of that stuff came naturally to him. But for some reason the thought of you was enough to make his stomach do somersaults. The palms of his hands got sweaty when your name was spoken. There was something about you that made Fred Weasley lose his senses and that was hard to do. 

Shaking it off, Fred huffs and leaves the dormitory making his way down to the common room. With each step he descended, his heart beat harder and faster against his rib cage. As he came down the stairs, your figure came into view which only made Fred’s mouth dry with anxiousness and excitement. He took a deep breath in and exhaled in attempt to calm himself down. I got this, she’s just a girl, he thought to himself. “4:00 on the dot,” Fred speaks, getting your attention, causing you to turn around to face him with a smile on your lips. “Very punctual, (Y/L/N).”

You take a good look at Fred and think about how effortlessly good he looked. Hunter green t-shirt hung on his tall frame perfectly as he walked over to where you sat on the couch, acoustic guitar in his hands. “Not to toot my own horn, but I was here at 3:55, Weasley,” you joke as he smiles. “Early is on time and on time is late.”

Fred chuckles, “In that case, pardon me for my tardiness. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive someone as foolish as me.”

His smile made your heart flutter and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His joy was infectious. How could someone be so addictive? “Hmmm,” you pretend to think, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving person.”

Fred places a hand over his heart and feigns relief. “Thank Merlin,” he fans himself as you chuckle. “Alright. You ready to get started?” he asks as you nod your head. “Brilliant, let’s start with the basics...”

After an hour of trial and error, you had managed to learned some chord progressions and strumming techniques from Fred. You had to give it to him; he was a great teacher. He was patient and smart and knowledgable. Not to mention, you loved listening to him talk about music and how passionate he was about playing. When he talked, he spoke with so much heart and life, it made you gently smile as you watched how animated he became. Fred Weasley really was one of a kind. 

You were nearing the end of your lesson as Fred showed you how to play an F chord on the guitar. “Best chord,” he spoke as you looked at him quizzically. “F is for Fred, keep up (Y/N),” he teases making you scoff. 

He explained the finger placements as you struggled to get it just right. “Wait, my second finger goes where?” you ask again as Fred points to the third string. You adjust and strum as an off-key chord resonates. “Now, that can’t be right,” you laugh as Fred shakes his head.

Fred gets up and moves from the chair in front of you to the seat next to you on the couch. He looks at you and asks, “May I?” He gestures to placing his hand on yours as you shake your head.

Gently, Fred places his hand on yours that holds the neck of the guitar as the other hand rests on your other elbow. Having his body is such close proximity to yours made your breath hitch in your throat as you felt his chest press against your back. Fred’s fingers adjust your placement carefully as if you were made of glass, trying his hardest not to make you break into a thousand bits. “This finger goes on the third string and this one stays on the second,” he lowly instructs. “And now, strum,” he speaks, a smile in his voice.

And so you do, a soft F chord playing as the strings underneath your fingertips hum sweetly. You two let the sound ring a little bit, either one of you not daring to breathe, scared to say or do anything. Just the position that you were in, his hands on yours, his chin resting near your shoulder, your back pressed against his chest. You gulped and exhaled softly. “Pretty,” you smiled.

Fred chuckled softly. “Yes, you are,” he spoke making your heart stop, wondering if he had just spoken those words. 

You turn to face him, a questioning look in your eyes as Fred allows a small smirk to dance on his lips. Cheeky bastard, you think to yourself as you smile at him. 

The two of you remain in this position, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Fred’s eyes were a rich brown, like pools of chocolate melting under the summer sun. His eyes were full of playfulness and cheer which made joy course through your veins. Fred Weasley was special. 

You didn’t even realize that he was leaning in until his forehead was pressed against yours and you connected the gap between you two, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. As you kissed, he inhaled deeply, cupping your cheek with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His hands were calloused from the guitar strings as they pressed against your soft cheek. You pressed your lips onto his harder as Fred smiled gently into the kiss, enjoying every moment. You were first to pull away, but it didn’t last long, Fred’s lips following yours for another kiss as you giggled lightly. His lips were soft and tasted of sweet cinnamon and you wanted more, like your own drug. 

Fred gently pulled away before speaking, “I have a confession.” You hum in response. “I was planning on kissing you this whole time. I was just trying to find a good excuse to sit next to you,” he confessed.

You smiled involuntarily and laughed. “I believe that,” you speak before placing another kiss to his lips quickly. “I also have a confession,” you bite your lip as Fred looks at you confused. 

Scooting back a little, you cradle the guitar in your grasp before skillfully strumming a combination of chords that could be recognized as the beginning chords of I’m Looking Through You by The Beatles. Fred’s mouth goes agape and eyes wide as you play better than he could ever. “I lied about not knowing how to play the guitar,” you laughed. “I’ve known how to play since I was ten. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

Fred shakes his head in disbelief. “You sneak!” he exclaims. “A woman after my own heart,” he jokes as you laugh before he kisses your cheek. “Well, I guess you don’t need anymore lesson from a git like me. But I still think you should hold up your end of the deal,” he squeezes your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Weasley,” you smile. “Although, I will be coyly judging your skills from the audience.”

Fred laughs, “I’m sure you will be, darling.”

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

After days of rehearsing and planning and scheduling and rehearsing some more, the gig at the Three Broomsticks rolled around. Ginny had managed to convinced the entirety of the Hogwarts quidditch league to come out which already filled the Three Broomsticks at half capacity. But getting more people to come wasn’t a problem. The promise of good music and Butterbeer was enough to have swarms of students flow into the small building. 

The Three Broomsticks was soon teeming with people, chatting and drinking and laughing. The energy was high and the Weasleys could feel it from their make shift backstage (which was quite literally a curtain that Ron managed to pin up). 

However, this meant that expectations were high which in turn made the band exceptionally nervous. Ginny nervously danced around, doing lip trills to warm up her voice as Ron tuned the bass. George sat at his drumming seat and ran over rhythms in his head, Fred pacing back and forth, biting on his nails.

You shuffled through the audience and found Harry and Hermione sitting at a table in the front as you approached them. You could hear Hermione gush about how hard Ron has been practicing for the gig, a rosy hue forming on her cheeks as Harry poked at her crush. As you approach, Hermione notices you and beams, “(Y/N)! Hi! Are you excited for the concert? You know Ron is playing bass?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Did you know Hermione has a big, fat cru-”

“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione quickly snaps as you laugh. “Anyway, what’s up?”

You smile, “Do you know if Fred is with the others still? I know he was nervous about tonight and I just wanna make sure he’s doing alright.”

Harry looks at Hermione and then back at you. “Yeah, he’s back with the others,” he says as you nod, leaving. But before you can leave, Harry stops you, “Wait, hold on, I didn’t know that you and Fred were....” he looks for the words.

“We’re not officially together, but we’ve been seeing each other,” you confess with a smile. Hermione gives you a teasing glance as she sips on her Butterbeer and Harry nudges her with an ooh. “Oh please. You think you two are slick? Everyone knows Harry fancies Ginny and Hermione is practically head over heels for Ronald,” you teases as they both wear bright red cheeks. “Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you laugh. “I’ll see you both in a minute.” You make your way to the back of the Three Broomsticks, behind the curtain to find a nervous band of siblings. Ginny catches your glances first and a smirk comes onto her lips. “Oh, Freddie,” she sing songs. “You have a guest.”

Fred turns around to face you and relief washes over his face as your heart skips a beat. Fred looked good sporting dark wash jeans and a black henley. Simple, but Godric, it was enough to make you swoon. Fred grabbed your hand and walked you over to the corner for a little more privacy. “I’m glad to see your face,” he spoke before bending down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it,” you squeeze his hand. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs and gives you an awkward smile as you blurt out a laugh. “I don’t know,” he joins in. “Nervous? Excited? Weird? All three?” 

You reach up and brush his hair out of his face as he relaxes under your touch. Just the simple gesture was enough to calm him down instantly. “It’s alright to feel like that. You are gonna be bloody brilliant. All of you,” you tell him sincerely. “You’ve been working so hard and you are all so talented. You’re gonna knock the audience’s socks off. I have no doubt in my mind,” you encourage him.

Fred smiles and without another word, he pulls you in by your waist to press your lips to his. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him sweetly. His lips are pressed against yours firmly, but sweetly with passion. His touch was enough to make your head reel. Fred pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, “I’m playing for you tonight. And only you.”

Your heart skips a beat as you smile, staring into his eyes with so much adoration. It had only been a week and a half since you had started seeing each other, but you couldn’t help but have the overwhelming feeling that Fred was the one for you. He was everything you could ever ask for. Charming, kind, handsome, funny, witty. Fred Weasley was it. 

“And I’ll be cheering you on the whole time,” you tell him, extending your pinky finger to him as he loops his with yours. The two of you press kisses to your thumbs, making it a pinky promise. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger,” you encourage him. As you walk away, Fred taps you bum playfully as you scurry away, back into the audience with Harry and Hermione. 

The three of you buzz about the band and the atmosphere, sipping on Butterbeer before suddenly the audience starts wildly cheering. You turn your attention to the make-shift stage and see the Weasleys all enter. You immediately start clapping and cheering for the band as Ginny speaks into the mic. “Hello, Hogsmeade!” she laughs as the crowd cheers louder. “We are the Burrow Bangers and tonight we’ve got quite the show for you all!” she exclaims as the audience claps and shouts out. You look over at Harry and a wide grin is plastered on his face. “So, without further ado...”

“1, 2, 3, 4!” George bangs on his drumsticks before 80s rock blares through the small inn, the crowd immediately cheering and dancing the sound of the music.

And you had to admit it. They were damn good. They were all in synch with each other and blended so well together. The Weasleys were performers no matter how much they may hate it admit it. Not to mention, Fred looked hot wailing away on his cherry red electric guitar. His fingers skillfully strummed out chords and he musically added riffs when needed which made the crowd roar. 

You were overwhelmed with pride at the boy you had taken such a keen liking to you and it was palpable. Fred would catch your eyes every now and then and drop his left eye into a wink, making you blush and cheer louder for him.

Tonight, and every night following, he played for you and you only.

[binniedeactivated]

Binnie!!,, I’ve been feening for your toxic!kai drabbles this entire week omg you write him so well 💆🏾‍♀️. I was wondering if you could write one based on the song “Heartbeat” by Childish Gambino please 🙇🏾‍♀️. (I feel like this suits the relationship he has with the reader sm😭) LOVE YOU💕💕

[ heuning kai ] - 9:43pm

[ word count ] - 945

notes - thank you sm babe! I’ve never heard the song before actually so it took a couple of listens for me to get the gist 😭 but I hope you like this! Ily too babe <3

she threw another pair of stilettos in her closet so she could look for something different. It was a bad habit of hers really, and it’s the reason why her shoes were never in their proper order. whenever she needed shoes all she did was scramble through them all just to find the ones that went perfect with her outfit. But she was so indecisive none of them ever did.

she instead decided to allow her son to give her a little advice. she turns around and smooths out her short auburn cocktail dress. she didn’t have much curves to fit it the way she wanted but the small dips in the pear shaped body she saw in the mirror was enough for her. she loved herself and the way her dark skin contrasted the color of the dress made her love herself even more. she just hoped that the guy on the blind date her friends set her up with felt the same way. “so? what do you think baby?”. her son shifted his hazelnut colored eyes to the woman at the foot of the bed and he smiled softly, his dimples depressed into the both of his soft cheeks and his curly black disheveled hair was a result of him laying down for almost the entirety of the afternoon.

“you look so pretty mommy. where are you going? Are you leaving me?”. the five year old smiled before he sort of pouted. his high pitched voice always made her heart warm. he was such a sweetie for her. “Thank you baby. Mommy’s going on a date tonight”. he furrowed his brows. “A date? why a date? Where am I going to go?”. she thanked god for the pair of heels she found peeking from underneath her bed. they were perfect. “I’m just going to have fun hopefully. And you’re going with daddy. he should be picking you up soon”. at the sound of that he instantly perked his head up higher and smiled from ear to ear. “Really?? I’m going with daddy?!”.

That’s another thing, she hated his father. she hated heuning kai. but the one thing she couldn’t say about him was that he was a bad father. he treated Blaise the way she wished her father had treated her. And blaise loved him with all his heart. She would never let their relationship get between their father to son bond. It always felt odd though, loving someone that looked so much like the man she despised.

once she finished strapping her heels on she grabbed her purse and checked her phone, hoping her date hadn’t arrived too early. she didn’t even get time to open her messages before the doorbell rung. her heart thumped around nervously. She didn’t know what to expect, hell she didn’t even know what the man even looked like. she just hoped to god that above all else he was nice. Lord knows she needed a man that wasn’t so toxic and controlling for once in her life. but her friends had her best interest so she trusted them. she twisted the doorknob pulling the front door open expecting to see her knight and shining armor. that wasn’t what she got though, instead it was her son’s blonde haired father in his normal attire, an oversized grey hoodie and sweatpants. she took no time looking back at her bedroom yelling, “Blaise get your stuff! Daddy’s here”.

while she did that though kai didn’t hesitate taking a glimpse of her body and beauty. she was a living bratz doll he’ll admit that. His heart raced at the sight of her. it always did but the heart pounding was more intense this time around since she was extra dolled up like this. By the time she turned back around she could see his eyes wandering around her waist before shortly settling into her eyes. standing beneath him was intimidating to say the least. His gaze made her blush every single time and he knew it. To prevent doing it though she always looked away, afraid of falling for him so easily like she been doing for the past few years.

“you look gorgeous. where you going?”.

“blaise hurry up. What’s taking you so long?”. she ignored him wondering what her son was doing all of a sudden. Usually he ran right up to his father. He was probably packing toys to bring. kai noticed how reserved she was being . “so you can’t answer my questions now?”.

“kai please. worry about yourself alright? I’m going out and you came here to pick up Blaise so do that”.

he quickly put on that cunning smile he always wore. he always thought her attitude was cute. especially when it never phased him at all. “why do you act like this?”.

“Act like what?”.

“Act like you hate my guts. just come to your fucking senses already. this relationship has been the same cycle for the last five years”.

“because you’re a two timing bastard who doesn’t know how to move on and leave it at that. you do the same shit heuning. you sit here and act like you want me and then I find out you’re with some other girl. I’m so sick of you”.

he leans against the door frame, towering over her once again with that cute ass small smirk of his. his shoulders were so broad and he looked a bit more muscular than normal but that was besides the point. she wasn’t trying to focus on his appearance. “The only girl I want is you though. you know that. and stop acting like you don’t be with other guys too. I know you better than you think”.

“whatever”.

“so who are you fucking now? i bet it’s some preppy ass corporate dickhead. you always fall for those types”.

“can you mind your business? whoever I’m with has nothing to do with you”.

he leans closer, cupping her chin with his hand. his gaze was lethal and she froze at the sight of it.

“that whole fake attitude that you’re doing isn’t working. It has everything to do with me. Because while you’re with him guess who you’re going to be texting? Hm? Isn’t that what you always do?”.

A tidal wave of guilt washed over her. She didn’t know whether to release herself from his grip or to stay because believe it or not, the sound of his voice alone turned her into putty. “Kai you stop it”.

“texting me all the fucking time. telling me how much your new guy sucks, telling me how much you want me. Isn’t that what you do?”.

she stuttered a small no, lying through her teeth. she knew it wouldn’t save her pride but he had a way of degrading and humiliating her without saying much of anything.

“If you’re going to lie about it I’ll make it your reality. that would be hell on earth wouldn’t it? since your always pouting about how your new man can’t make you cum?”.

the way he made her yearn for him every single time was dangerous. he knew just what to do. he knew what to say to have her where he wanted her. that what was his specialty. manipulation at its finest. he curled his tongue between her lips before he kissed her, their lips being so mesmerizing when conjoined that she never looked forward to when he pulled away. he always did just enough. just enough to let her taste him and instantly want more.

“Daddy! I’m ready now!”. The small boy ran to his father’s legs hugging them excitedly with his Superman backpack strapped to his shoulders, he was ready for whatever adventure they were about to go on together. “Where you been buddy I was waiting so long for you!”. Kai playfully scolded. “I had to get my toys! I’m ready now!”.

kai took one last glare at her knowing more than anything she was regretting the decision to go out with someone else. he smirked even still. “have fun on your date”.

[jessikahathaway]

Vegas, Baby - Part I

Pairing: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Romance, Smut (Slow Burn)

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Summary: After four years, you have been let go from your job. Taking a chance you head to Vegas to make the best of a bad situation. A situation that only gets worse.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, but we are going to have to let you go,” your boss’ monotone voice echoed in your ears. 

Four years of your life, wasted. Not that you particularly enjoyed the job, but it paid your bills. And that was what counted at the end of the day. Now, what were you going to do? Your parents had already said your room was still yours if you needed to move back in. It was sweet of them really, but you didn’t want to move back in with them, you wanted your freedom and you wanted to be on your own. But what other options did you have without losing everything? 

“Your separation pay will come through at the end of the week,” your ears perked up. The separation pay would be a nice amount no doubt. This financial firm didn’t come without its perks. 

“Very good, sir. Thank you for four years,” you said, trying not to let the bitter tone enter into your voice. 

“You can show yourself out. See that your desk is cleaned out by the end of the shift,” he said, turning his back to you.

Quickly you let yourself out, heading toward your desk. 

“So, what did dickhead want?” Namjoon, your table mate, asked.

“I got canned,” you whispered, gathering up your stuff.

“What? No way, let me go in there,” he said, preparing to stand up before you stopped him.

“Joon, honestly, it’s fine. I’ve wanted to quit for a while anyways,” you confess.

“But, Y/N, it’s bullshit that they fire you. If that bimbo in the receptionist office can keep her job, you can too,” he said, fuming.

“Joon, seriously, I’m fine. Do you see me crying over it?” You asked, smiling.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“I’m positive,” you answered.

“Okay, if you say so,” he responded.

“Just let me get my shit and blow this popsicle stand,” you said, grinning at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N, I’ll miss you here,” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“You’re acting like you don’t have my number or something,” you said, laughing lightly.

“It won’t be the same without you here to annoy,” he said, giving you a dimpled smile.

“I know, you like to do that a lot,” you remarked, throwing a good natured glare his way.

“Well, I’m good at what I do then,” Namjoon stated.

“Which should be working, don’t need you following me out the door,” you said, sighing as you collected the remainder of your important items.

The rest could be left here, consider it a gift to the next unfortunate person who has to work here.

“Hey, text me okay?” He said, giving you a little wave.

“Will do, see ya Joon,” you said, returning the wave before heading towards the door.

—

Two weeks later you found yourself on a plane heading to Las Vegas.

How did you find yourself here? Well, it was a rather impulsive decision. But you and Namjoon had decided to take the rest of your earnings from your job and make a vacation out of it. You were taking a week in the US and spending time in Vegas to get a little wind in your sails before moving back in with your parents. 

Did that take what little wind you had in your sails out? Maybe, but that's besides the point. This was your way of giving the middle finger to your old job by blowing your money on something less than recommended. 

A trip to Vegas was exactly your soul needed after four years of behaving like a good little desk minion. Years of filing and coffee runs, all going to be blown to smithereens. Thank God for that too. You didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about what had been, only what was going to be the best week of your life. 

You had a couple friends that lived in the states, and you were going to meet up with them after landing and unpacking at your hotel. Jessi and Lily were waiting anxiously for you to arrive. 

Jessi: Bitch, I can’t believe you’re actually coming. After all these years of begging, pleading and what not, you’re dumbass comes here on a whim. But, still excited to see youuu xoxoxo.

YOU: R00D. I was working and busy with trying to further my career that capped off at a measly management position. Where the hell were you m8?

LILBITCH: Okay, it is like midnight here so can yall quit your yapping and do the sleep sleep? K thnx.

YOU: Sorry Lily, Jessi decided to be a boob in the group chat. Rest young one.

Jessi: ExCuSE? I Did NO SucH thInG?!?

YOU: You did! And are still doing it!

LILBITCH: Can yall argue in a separate thread plz?

Jessi: Nah, bugging you is wayyyy more entertaining.

LILBITCH: I pick the worst friends. Consider yourself disowned.

YOU: Children children, I come to bring peace to all four nations.

Jessi: The only thing you bring peace to is a party, and that’s what we’re going to fix while you’re here. You are going to get wasted and you are gonna like iiitttt >:(

LILBITCH: Jessi what are you even doing up?

Jessi: Sleep is for the weak.

LILBITCH: No, it’s for people. You know, who aren’t fucked in the head??

YOU: We gonna ignore the fact that she practically said I don’t know how to party?

Jessi: I am perfectly sane!

LILBITCH: Yeah right....

YOU: So we are ignoring that deep insult? K great. 

Jessi: Sorry Y/N, it’s just been so long since we’ve all been together like this I’m so excited. I’m gonna put you in my man stealing clothes and you’re gonna get dicked down while you’re here! Yasssss, I love my plan already.

YOU: THERE IS A CHILD IN HERE!

LILBITCH: Woman we’re both older than you. You’re the child. Who doesn’t know how to party apparently. 

YOU: And here I was thinking you loved me Lily. This hurts. This hurts deep.

Jessi: So, slutty clothes shopping here we come???

LILBITCH: I read the word shopping and I’m so down.

Jessi: yAS

YOU: Some of my dearest friends. Insult me then demand to dress me like a blowup doll? WTF??

Jessi: Not a blow up doll! Is there a tamer version of those Lily?

LILBITCH: I mean not really.

Jessi: You’ll be the sexiest blow up doll out there!

YOU: I don’t like this.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are beginning our ascent. Please silent all devices and buckle up! Thank you for choosing Korean Airways! Enjoy your flight!”

YOU: Well you two can think of more diabolical ways to get me laid and I will be none the wiser. See you girls soon. Love ya! <3

You shut your phone off and let your head rest against the cushioned seat. Letting the rumble of the cabin lull you to sleep.

--

“Y/N!!!!” Jessi squealed as she came running for you. 

You’d slept most of the plane ride, but now you were stiff in the joints and her frame colliding with your own sent the two of you tumbling. 

“Oof, Jess! What the hell man, you’re gonna break me,” you whined as the older woman started squeezing the daylights out of you. 

“Alright pda couple break it up,” Lily’s voice filled your ears. 

You stood quickly and brought her into a hug too. 

“It’s good to see you,” you whispered, rubbing her back as you separated.

“Good to see you too, have you lost weight?” she asked, making you spin around for confirmation.

“Maybe maybe not, I wasn’t exactly eating the healthiest diet when I was at the firm so, maybe I just gained it in different places,” you laughed. 

There was a prickle on the back of your neck. Your guard went up and you looked around. But didn’t see anyone staring. Although, you were uncomfortable.

“Come on, let’s get going. We have a lot to do before tonight!” Jessi said, practically dragging you out of the terminal.

“Jesus Jessi I have ligaments and bones, those things can break you know!” you whined, but she didn’t relent. 

Climbing into the car you still felt a chill of fear run up your spine. But didn’t let it bother you. Right now was about you and your friends, not being a little paranoid after a long flight. Plus, you were abroad, there were tons of people around and that was more than likely throwing your radar off a little bit. 

“Okay, mall here we come!” Lily said with excitement in her voice. 

“But what about heading to the hotel to unpack?” you asked. 

“Oh, we cancelled your reservation. Did you know you saved almost a thousand bucks if you stay with me?” Jessi said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Guys I don’t wanna burden you!” 

“You aren’t going to be, our most recent roommate has vacated the room and left it in perfect condition. It can be yours if you decide you wanna stay for a while?” Lily suggested with a brow wiggle.

“You two are impossible,” you complained, leaning your head against the window.

“Impossibly smart,” Jessi narked. 

You sighed as you watched the cityscape pass you by. Jessi and Lily chatted about nothing it seemed like, but it was comforting that you all fell back into rhythm so quickly after so long of not seeing one another. It made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of being apart. But you were here now, and that’s what mattered. 

Lily was telling you all about her work at the little cafe she co-owns. She handles the customer service end while her partner handles the more... businessy aspect. 

“And then one of my servers swears she saw a ghost of an old lady in the back room. The building used to be a house but now we have renovated it and turned it into the cafe like I’ve told you. But, I looked into it. And a lady did actually die in there in the fifties. How fucking crazy is that!? And, get this, if it hadn’t happened within the last ten years, the realtors don’t have to divulge that information. How fucked,” Lily sighs. 

Jessi pulls into the parking lot of a large shopping center and you girls all get out, wallets at the ready. 

Linking arms with them you smiled brightly and started walking towards the door. 

About an hour later, your feet were killing you and you hadn’t even tried anything on, much to the dismay of your friends. 

“Come on Y/N, you need to at least try one thing on in this next shop,” Jessi pleaded. 

“Why? I packed clothes you know?” you said, 

“And knowing you they won’t be attention getting enough,” Lily commented.

“Rude, you don’t know what I got,” you scoffed. 

Lily rolled her eyes and picked you up off the comfortable bench you had settled down on and now you were being dragged off of it like a leech of an arm. 

“Come on Y/N, I have the perfect place in mind,” Jessi announced, leading the pack towards another stylish little boutique. 

“If I try something on will you guys quit pestering me?” you whined out. 

“Maybe, depends on if we like it or not,” Lily’s voice rang in your ear. 

Somewhere, deep down, you knew letting them drag you to a shopping mall was a bad idea. But you hadn’t realized how bad until they had you dressed to the gills in sequins, sparkles and everything glittery. 

“Guys this stuff is itchy!” you said, itching your thigh, that was barely covered, for emphasis. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, you look great! It really shows off those curves!” Jessi complimented, spinning you around.

“I brought the same style of dress, but in a popping red color. It will compliment her eyes for certain,” the lovely assistant of the boutique said. Of course they were trained to reach for the priciest piece they had, and tell you it would look good on you. But hey, A for effort. 

“Oooh! Y/N, try it on, try it on!” Jessi yelled. 

“Shh, we are in a store!” you scolded. 

“God you’re worse than my mom,” Jessi rolled her eyes.

“Am not. I’m just trying to contain my two four year olds!” you said exasperated.

“As the youngest isn’t it your responsibility to be rambunctious. Getting into all kinds of trouble?” 

“That’s what we’re here for Lily, she’s had a stick up her ass for too long called adulting,” Jessi teased.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” you asked, teasing right back.

Jessi just laughed and went to go peruse the racks again. Lily snuggled up beside you and wrapped her arms around you tightly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered.

Smiling you gave her a tight hug. “I missed you guys too.”

Jessi came back with a sexy white number that has cut off sleeves that draped off your shoulder elegantly and it was a little longer than the others they’d thrown you in during that afternoon.

Seeing your eyes looking at the dress with interest, Jessi knew she had won. 

 “Wanna know the best part?” Jessi asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction.

“What?” you asked. 

“It was on the sale rack!” she smirked. 

“Okay give it here,” you said, holding your hand out. Jessi smiled and plopped the dress in your hand without hesitation. 

You shuffled into the dressing room and pulled the garment on. You looked at yourself in the mirror and almost fell over. This wasn’t you. The girl looking back at you was a beautiful woman, someone with poise and elegance. Or was that what the dress conveyed? Because you felt almost empowered in this dress...

“Okay, show us what you got!” the girls said, waiting for you outside the dressing room.

Stepping down onto the floor the girls were silent. 

“Well?” you asked, feeling a little self conscious at all their staring. 

“Y/N, if you don’t buy that dress then I will and force you into it tonight,” Jessi said, still staring.

“Does it look alright?’ you asked, tugging at the fabric.

“Yes now quit fidgeting! We’re trying to figure out what shoes, make up and hair we need to do,” Lily said, settling your hands at your side. 

“I think a red pump,” Jessi said, running off to one side of the store.

“And a red lip to match!” Lily echoed. 

“I love the way you think,” Jessi said back.

You looked down at your bare feet on the floor and sighed. 

“I don’t know, should we go clubbing tonight? I just got here and kinda want to-”

“Not bail out on us and have the fun you wanted to have by coming to Vegas?” Lily offered. 

You sighed and rubbed your face. Jessi came back with a crimson red pair of heels that already made your feet hurt. But you decided to quiet down and just enjoy the time you had with your friends. It was so nice to bicker with them and laugh, it really made your heart soar to be here with them. Even if they were forcing you into some uncomfortable shoes. At their cores, they were great girls, and you were so lucky to have them in your life. 

“There, see how it lengthens your legs?” Jessi pointed out. 

“See how it will destroy my ankles?” you said back.

They just laughed and you guys took everything to the checkout counter. The clerk cashed you out and you ladies were on your way. 

“I’m so glad you bought the shoes too! They look so killer with that dress, and we’re going to make you the prettiest thing at the club tonight! Not that you need much help,” Lily smirked, linking her arms with yours.

You shoved her a little but walked down the hall with her happily.

Until you felt that chill that had run down your spine earlier, reappear. You stopped in your tracks and turned, certain that someone was watching you. But no one was there... It made unease churn in your stomach. Jessi seemed to notice your hesitation and came over beside you. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, trying to look in a similar direction as you.

“No no, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” you smiled weakly, going to move forward.

“If you’re sure,” Lily answered, following close behind.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

After that you only went to one more department store and found nothing of interest, so you guys decided to call it. Walking back to the car, Jessi ran ahead to make sure that it was unlocked. Lily and you walked at an even pace, just enjoying each other's company.

Loading everything into the car you took off down the road for Jessi and Lily’s house.

Slowly, the sensation of being watched faded from your mind. And the three of you went back to your bickering and teasing. 

Finally, you pulled into the driveway. 

Jessi and Lily were quick to help you with your luggage, making sure everything got into the spare bedroom. And then, the work began. 

“Babe, we love you, but you gotta take a shower,” Jessi said, pinching her nose for effect.

“Rude, I literally took a shower before I boarded the plane,” you told them.

“Yeah, and you smell like plane and food court, so go. Cleanse thyself,” Lily commented, looking at her phone.

“Fine fine,” you agreed, heading towards the bathroom. 

Jessi handed you the dress and some undergarments and went into the kitchen. 

The hot water felt heavenly on your body, washing off the grim of travel and shopping. It was nice. The foamy soap on your head invigorating you. You shaved every part of your body known to man, and woman to be honest. 

But when you stepped out of the shower. Instead of the normal underwear you had picked out, was something else. 

Sorry, but we had to burn those granny panties. Wear this instead! We bought them today while you were busy being one with the bench. We know they’ll fit you!

Jessi & Lily

“Those little shits!” you exclaimed, looking down in despair at your underwear option now. 

Pink lacy panties were set on the bathroom counter. How did you not even hear them come in!? You looked at the bra and were certain that you’d be able to see a nipple through the lace that was supposed to be covering your shit. But apparently the quest to get you laid was a serious endeavor in their minds. So, to humor them, you put on the garments. That, in fact, fit perfectly.

“Those creeps,” you shuddered, wondering how your friends had known your exact size.

Pulling on the dress you bought earlier, you marveled at yourself in the mirror. You looked really good. And just as before, you felt as if you could conquer the world, in just this dress. But, you knew the only thing you’d conquer was maybe a bar scene, which would work. For now.

Walking out you found the nasty culprits of the underwear heist sitting around a vanity full of makeup.

“Wanna tell me why I’m wearing underwear that barely covers anything?” you said, venom in your tone.

“Because you put it on,” Jessi said, with a smirk.

“You guys are so fucking nosy,” you whined, throwing your headback in a mock tantrum.

“We aren’t nosy enough, when was the last time you got dicked down?” Jessi asked, suddenly serious.

Scandalized you made a squeak of discomfort. 

“Wh-Why the sudden curiosity??” you asked.

“Because, we gotta know how out of practice you are,” Lily said, as if it were obvious.

“I’m not out of practice!” you shrieked. 

“So it was recently then?” Jessi smiled. 

“No! I mean-shut up!” you cried.

“When was the last time Y/N,” Lily said calmly.

“Three years ago,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defense.

The two girls almost choked. 

“THREE YEARS!?” Jessi screamed.

“I’m right here, there’s no need to scream,” you said.

“BUT Y/N, THAT’S THREE YEARS,” Jessi yelled again.

“I can tell time, Jessi,” you commented.

“How? You’re practically a nun,” Lily snorted.

“I am not!” you defended.

“Sweetheart, listen we are doing this out of love,” Jessi shushed you, cradling you to her chest. “We will help you. Sit down.”

“This is all very offensive, just so ya’ll know,” you said, pointing to them with an accusing finger.

“Shut up and sit down,” Lily said, grabbing her hair appliances. 

You settled into silence, letting the girls do whatever they wanted to you. You found it was easier this way than fighting with them the whole time. As much as you loved them, these girls were bossy and pushy. But, you wouldn’t have them any other way. They helped even you out, making sure you got out there and did have some fun in your life. 

Lily was in the process of doing your hair and styling it the way she thought would work the best, while Jessi was deeply focused on doing your makeup. You saw the crimson colored lipstick come out and knew it was as Lily recommended earlier.

Jessi painted it on your lips with a precision that was awe inspiring. You just stayed still and let them continue their work. Enjoying the transformation happening before your eyes. Before, you were a nervous little office worker. Now, you were a girl on a mission. What mission was still to be decided, but it made you feel powerful. Not saying that you didn’t feel powerful without it, but it was nice to get dressed up every once in a while and to feel sexy. 

Lily put down the hair products and smiled at her work. 

“You look fucking hot,” she pointed out. 

“Don’t make her smile. I'm working on the concealer around her lips,” Jessi whined.

“Sorry sorry, just, she’s really beautiful,” Lily smiled. 

“We been knew,” Jessi smirked. 

“Right right,” Lily said, going to gather the tights and shoes.

“Thanks Jessi,” you said as you stood up, stretching lightly.

You felt a light smack to your butt and you smiled back at her. 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she giggled. 

“Alright ladies, we need to make a game plan for the night!” Lily announced as she walked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow at her. 

“Who wants to get laid, who wants to wing woman and who wants to be the sober one,” Lily said.

“Well, Y/N is the getting laid one,” Jessi confirmed.

“Did you ask Y/N if she wants to get laid?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Fine, Y/N, do you not want me to find you a fine specimen of man that could knock your socks off in the bedroom?” Jessi said.

“Well... I mean, it’s not that I don’t want that but...”

“But what?” Lily asked, coming to sit next to Jessi.

“I’m shy, I don’t really attract people. I’m more of a hang out in the corner until I’m drunk enough to approach someone type of gal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Don’t ruin my hard work,” Jessi warned. 

“Sorry, nervous habit,” you answered, stopping the action quickly.

“Y/N, it’s all up to you, we don’t really have to go out but I thought this is what you came here for? To let loose and have some fun before moving back with your parents. But if all you wanna do is have a girls week then we can do that too... But, honestly you look amazing and any guy would be lucky to get with you,” Lily said. 

You thought it over. 

This is what you came here for. To let loose like she said. But now that it was happening you were retreating into office worker Y/N, not the badass you wanted to be for at least a week. So, you didn’t see the harm in getting laid. Honestly, it might get some of the pent up stress out of your system, and that sounded great.

“No, you guys are right. I wanted to come here to be free for a while. What’s the point in hiding in the corner when I can be the center of attention for once in my life. I say, let’s do it,” you said, confident.

Jessi squealed excitedly and clapped her hands. 

“Yes! We are gonna be the best wingwomen you’ve ever seen Y/N! We’ll pick a great one out for you,” she said.

“She also has eyes, Jessi, she might find the one,” Lily chastised. 

“Yes, yes sorry,” she said, shuffling through her closet in disinterest.

“Okay, so Jessi and I are both going to be wingwoman. It’ll be a shared effort so we can pick the best guy,” Lily announced. 

“Right,” you said. 

“But like Lily said, you have eyes. If you find someone you’re vibing with, let us know!” Jessi said back. 

“Okay,” you agreed.

The rest of the evening was spent making out rules and exchanging safety measures to make sure no one got hurt or left behind.

This was going to be very fun.

[trillian-anders]

four christmases

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings:  slight violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 16k

description: part 2 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now,the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale. These are the four christmases you’ve spent with the thrombey/drysdale clan during your times of service. 

a/n: this story is brought to you by season 4 of schitt’s creek and maybe 12 cups of coffee. it felt like it took forever to write, but i’m happy to bring it to you. this is the follow up for my other ransom one-shot ‘the assistant’. i hope you guys like it! 

2018

What a fucking asshole. 

“You have to be there, it’s your job.” Ransom huffed indignantly. You rolled your eyes from the passenger seat of his beamer, tablet open in your lap as you scrolled through your sister’s amazon wishlist. 

“I have a family too Ransom. I can’t just abandon my own family on Christmas just because you can’t get along with yours.” His knuckles turned white against the gear shift. Nothing else mattered, only him it seemed, and his whining Mommy complex. 

“You were hired to assist me,” Ransom pulled into the drive of his house, tires crunching on the gavel, “So assist.” What a fucking tool. He quickly exited the car not looking behind him to see if you were following into the house, but leaving the front door wide open with the expectation that you were coming right behind. 

You had just hopped onto this assistant gig a few months ago. There you were minding your own business as fall began, working for a temp agency, when Linda Drysdale rang you up and asked you to come work for the family again. You had recently been tutoring one of the youngest of the clan, Meg, with her English coursework for her last school year. The pay was good and you were kind of let down when they opted not to keep you on after summer concluded. 

Babysitting Ransom paid well, better than it had been to help Meg out, but was it really worth the price? Ransom was a fucking child. You cooked his meals, washed his laundry, and were forced to tail him as he went about whatever business he deemed worthy of his days. Just until 9 pm, that’s all you had to do. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. Off Sundays and Mondays. 

It felt like too much and not worth the paycheck. Even if the trust-fund asshole spent his days flirting around from one party to the next. More often than not he found himself a body to bring home leaving you to get an uber back to his place just so you could get your car to go home, or worse yet having you sit awkwardly in the backseat of the car as whoever was in the passenger seat desperately tried to give him road head. 

He loved it. You know he did. Eyes flitting to yours in the rear-view mirror as a girl ten years younger than him fumbled with his belt. A fucking smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him, but your sister’s private school tuition held you back. 

You followed him into the house, one you had just spent the entire morning cleaning as Ransom slept off his hangover. The prick had dropped his coat on the floor adjacent to the coat hook, shoes haphazardly kicked off beside it, glaring at him as you picked them up while he drank orange juice straight from the carton. 

“I’ll pay you time and a half if you come.” He bartered. 

“You don’t pay me anything,” You scoffed. “Your Mom pays me.” 

“Exactly.” He tossed the carton back in the fridge, coming around the counter to get closer to you. He dropped his voice in what he probably thought was a seductive whisper. The fire it lit in your core would lead you to believe that it actually was a seductive whisper and you just fucking hated him. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He drug a finger down your cheek softly. It only caused you to roll your eyes, batting his finger away and stripping yourself of your coat you turned back to him, 

“I want triple.” 

Your sister was going to be pissed, but she’ll survive once she realizes you were able to get her a new laptop for school. A compromise. 

She cried. 

The Thrombey’s were probably the worst people you’ve ever met in your entire life. Harlan was prideful, pompous. He cared about his family, to an extent. He created them after all, his monsters. 

Linda was okay, but she was a lot like her father. She felt as though she was better than everyone else simply because she ‘built herself from the ground up’ yeah, if the ground was a million dollars gifted from Daddy. Her husband, Richard, was a glorified sugar baby, you were sure at one point he was a real estate broker, but Linda had the business, he just rode on her coattails. 

Walt was a whiny bastard. He was meek. He walked around with a cane and you weren’t sure he even needed it. It could totally be a ploy to try and gain more sympathy from his father. His wife was a drunk, you couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t talk to you anyway. You can’t talk if you always have your mouth wrapped around the lip of a martini glass. Their son, Jacob, was a little alt-right shit. Every comment that came out of his mouth was a dig on some less privileged 99% and if you didn’t need this job you’d shove his head in the toilet yourself.

That leads you to Joni and Meg. Joni and Ransom had both been given an allowance every month. That’s the way they were mostly the same. How they differed was that Joni was at least attempting to have some sort of entrepreneur business where she gained some income, but not enough to live the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had Meg in this expensive ass private school that cost more than your salary a month and Meg found this group of liberal women and now she was becoming the extreme opposite of Jacob. They often bumped heads, with Meg slowly giving in. She always gave in. This was her family and as much as she wanted to fight for the 99% she never actually wanted to be one. 

But it was fine. 

It didn’t really matter. 

You just wanted to go home. 

Ransom hasn’t had an empty hand all day thanks to you. “If I’m ever without a drink,” He said on the way over, “You’re walking home.” So this is where you’re standing, with Marta and Fran, you sipping on a weak mimosa that Marta had compromised on, waiting for the day to be over. 

Ransom’s eyes met yours from across the room, hand raising his glass, the last little mouthful swishing against its side. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to grab the decanter behind you, walking over to fill his glass. “So I told him to shove it up his ass,” Linda was telling Harlan a story, “If you think for one moment I would give in to anything less than market price you’re out of your mind.” Please love me, she was saying, please see that I’m the best child you have. Harlan’s eyes were dazed, not looking at hers. Thinking. He was always thinking. 

The only time Ransom didn’t need you was when he disappeared into his Grandfather’s office. Presents were handed out just before, new iphones, apple watches, macbooks, cartier bracelets, rolexes, a couple of little bonus checks to their allowances, the spirit of Christmas was definitely lost on this family. 

It doesn’t matter. 

You had just filled Ransom’s glass before he entered the study and you knew he wouldn’t need you until some kind of argument broke out with his Grandfather and you had to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice. 

“How’s it goin’ kid?” Richard always kind of made you uncomfortable. He seemed normal, but you were uncomfortable in a ‘this is a rich older white man who liked to corner you alone’ kind of way. For the most part he’s been harmless. 

One time, this was early on when you first started to tutor Meg, he found you in a similar way. Alone, in the kitchen. This was one of the first times he had met you and he was sure to let you know, “You’ve got a really pretty face, you know that?” Ew. Thanks? He had gotten close, too close. “How’d a pretty girl like you end up as a tutor?” That’s worse. And cheesy. This looked like one of those times, except he’d been drinking since 8 am. 

“I’m fine thanks.” You had been trying to find a minute of peace. There was always someone talking in this house, during ‘debates’ there were usually three or four. This was supposed to be a break. Ransom having been passed off to another wet nurse he could suck off of while you got some rest, and maybe sneak a couple of those expensive chocolate artisanal cookies for good measure. Richard grinned at you, not in the way Ransom would when he was fucking with you, but something more predatory. He was feeling ambitious. 

“I just wanted to give you this,” He slipped an envelope across the counter to you, hand resting on it, waiting for you to take it. As your hand met the envelope, he did the fucking worst thing he could possibly do in this moment, and took your hand. Your heart was racing and you felt wildly uncomfortable. He held your hand, taking a step into your space, body crowding yours against the counter. You stared him down, please just let me go. Please just fucking let me go. “How’s my son treating you?” He asked. What exactly did he think you were doing for his son?

“Fine.” You swallowed harshly. Please just let me go. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, face coming closer to yours. 

“If you ever need anything…” Closer and closer. You wished you could pull back completely, get out of this situation, but the vice grip he currently had on your hand was making it difficult. 

“Y/N.” Your eyes snapped over to the doorway, Ransom. His jaw was clenched, face flushed from what you were sure was an argument with Harlan. “We’re leaving.” Richard turned and smiled at his son, releasing your hand. You quietly slipped the envelope into your jeans pocket, backing yourself away from him, and joining Ransom across the room where his eyes hadn’t yet left his father. It wasn’t until you made it to the front door, grabbing your coat from the coat rack did he stomp his way out of the house, digging his car keys from his pockets. 

“Ransom I don’t think you should be driving-” You started, but he turned to you, eyes wild. This scared you. 

“Get in the car.” He demanded. Fuck, he’s drunk.

“Ransom you’re drunk, you can’t drive right now.” His eyes looked behind you and you turned to look at his family, peeking out through the curtains to watch the show. He quickly grabbed your arm, tugging you to the passenger seat, wrenching the door open and shoving you in, slamming the door behind you to circle around to the drivers side. “Just let me drive.” You pleaded. He slammed his own car door, revving the engine and quickly whipping the car out of the driveway. 

He wasn’t saying anything and Ransom always had something to say. 

“Ransom-”

“Shut the fuck up.” His knuckles were white against the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead as he began gaining speed. 

60 mph,

65 mph,

70…

“Slow down!” He was scaring you, these roads were winding and dark, his high beams only did so much and you weren’t sure how many deer you’d be seeing tonight. His foot was heavy on the accelerator. 

75

80

85

“Ransom please!” You cried. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were moving wildly left to right as he moved the wheel to turn.

90

95

100

You were going to die. This was it, this was the end. The car hit the open road, the interstate, and to the left of the on ramp you had just flew through was a cop. Their lights started flashing, red and blue filling the car as Ransom kept accelerating. It wasn’t late at night, probably around nine or so. There were other cars here as Ransom kept gaining speed, swerving in and out of traffic. “You’ve got to pull over!” You yelled at him.

105

110

115

“Ransom for the love of god, fucking stop!” His eyes looked in the rearview, two cops now. It was then he began to slow down, moving over to the side of the road, your heart still racing in your chest. You relax your fingers which you didn’t even realize was gripping Ransom’s bicep in a steel grip. Both of you breathing heavily inside the car. It wasn’t until the cop heavily banged on the window that either of you even moved. 

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.” A bright flashlight in your face as you dug around for his registration and insurance in the glove box. Exiting the car and circling to the trunk as Ransom was handing the four cops bills from his money clip. Why the fuck did Ransom have a money clip full of hundreds? Ransom’s eyes met yours as he stuffed his money clip back in his coat pocket before tossing you the keys which you caught awkwardly. 

“Take me home.” 

You looked over at the cops who were getting back in their squad cars before quietly getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. Your heart was still pounding and as the adrenaline began wearing off you suddenly grew very tired. 

“Drive.” You didn’t want to hear his voice. You never wanted to see his face again. You never even wanted to hear his name again. 

“You’re the fucking worst.” You could feel yourself crying. That was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had in your life. 

“Well you’re fucking my father so,” He sunk down in his seat. “I think I have some competition.”

“I’m not fucking your father!” You exclaimed, hand hitting the steering wheel. You hear him scoff from the passenger seat.

“Not today since I walked in on you. Which is funny, you put on this whole show about not wanting to be around my family and what was it all for? A fucking ploy so I didn’t know.” Ransom didn’t fucking know how much of a goddamn idiot he was being right now. 

As the gravel crunched beneath the tires of the beamer, your argument continued. “I’m not fucking your father, I’ve never fucked your father, and I never will fuck your father.” He wasn’t hearing you. 

“Is this why Linda pays you so much?” He scoffed, exiting the car. He looked at you from over the roof and continued, “So you keep Richard out of her bed?” You hadn’t stopped crying. Still half going from fear and the other half from frustration. It was so goddamn cold out that the tears were freezing against your cheeks. 

“Ransom, I am not fucking your father!” You yelled, “The reason she pays me what she does is because the exact fucking thing you’re doing right now.” He rolled his eyes, walking up to the front door of his house, 

“Give me my keys.” 

“No.” You were still standing by the car, keys fisted in your hand. “You’re being a fucking asshole right now.” 

He clenched his fist, slamming it into the front door before turning back to you and yelling, “Give me my fucking keys Y/N.” You both looked at one another for a moment. 

You took a deep breath. “I have nothing to do with your father Ransom. My only job is to wait on you like a fucking servant and that is what I get paid to do. Not be your fucking punching bag when your family turns out to be a bunch of dicks-”

“Give me-”

“I’m not finished!” You screamed. Tears were still streaming heavily down your face and Ransom stood five feet away from you awkwardly letting you continue. “I don’t deserve this Ransom. I really fucking don’t. You literally almost just fucking killed me. So you’re going to say you’re sorry, you’re going to go into your fucking house, you’re going to give me what you promised me for even having to deal with this shit tonight, and you’re going to give me the rest of the week off.” 

It was silent for a moment. The two of you standing in the cold Massachusetts air in silence. Your face was starting to burn and as the silence stretched on you began to doubt everything you just said. Fuck this could cost you the job. The envelope Richard had handed you weighed heavily in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to hold you over until you could get back to the temp agency. 

Ransom let out a breath he had been holding, turning fully to you, and walking down the two steps of his porch. You flinched back away from him, looking at his knuckles that were split and bleeding from punching the door. His eyes met yours and he looked like he was debating something. 

“I’m sorry.” His words were soft and whispered, hand coming forward with an open palm, waiting for his keys. You gently gave them back to him. That soft, whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ stunned you. You didn’t expect your yelling to actually work. You expected to be fired. His keys jingled as he reached in his pocket and brought that money clip back out, extracting a bundle of hundreds and holding them out to you between two fingers. “Go home.” 

That was never spoken of again. The thing with Richard in the kitchen, being pulled over on 95, the screaming match that ensued, and nothing was ever said about the solid gold, $6,500 cartier bracelet that was by no doubt wrapped at the store that was waiting for you when you arrived back at work five days later. 

2019

“What did he do?” You were sweating. It was so fucking hot in here, but you were afraid to take off your coat. The fanfare in which the detectives had pulled up to your apartment complex was embarrassing, quickly bringing you down to the police station and shoving you in an interrogation room. 

“What did who do?” The man who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Elliot asked you. Shit. What the fuck did Ransom do? The death of Harlan Thrombey was sudden, right after his birthday just two weeks ago. It was unsettling, the suicide. The funeral was uncomfortable to say the least. Ransom told you to go and then didn’t go himself so you stood there like some weird interloper on the tails of everyone’s grief. 

You were going to throw up, you’ve never so much as gotten a speeding ticket but suddenly you had a kilo of coke on you and an unlicensed gun. “Where were you the night Harlan Thrombey committed suicide?” You picked at your fingernails. 

“I was at the party,” Your throat was so dry, you were afraid to touch the glass of water they had set before you, “I always feel strange around the family so unless Ransom needs me I try to hide out in the kitchen.” 

“You’re his assistant?” Elliot asked, “He doesn’t have a job, so what exactly do you assist with?”

“I’m pretty much his babysitter.” You explained, “I make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble…” It’s ironic right? You bit your bottom lip. “Why am I here exactly?” The other man in the room, Wagner, spoke up, 

“Hugh Drysdale has been arrested in the murder of Harlan Thrombey’s housekeeper.” Elliot gave him a dirty look. 

“Fran’s dead?” The shock was evident on your face. You leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, discarding your coat and scarf and taking a large mouthful of water. 

“You seemed surprisingly absent from Hugh’s side throughout the aftermath of Harlan’s suicide, why is that?” The third man spoke up from his spot sitting in the corner of the room, the thick southern accent was almost comical. 

“Ransom gave me time off,” You recalled, voice trailing off as you finish your sentence, “He said I could go to my sister’s cello recital…”  Did he really kill her? “Why would he kill Fran?” It made no sense. “I mean, he’s an asshole, but murder?”

They played a recording. Ransom in his own, self-righteous, pompous voice. Fuck me. What a fucking idiot. “So tell us where you were on the dates in question, spare no details.”

You had thought it strange, Ransom had left you stranded at the Thrombey house and you were forced to find your own way back to his house to get your car. It wasn’t at all strange that when you got to his house his car wasn’t there. You’d just assumed he’d gone out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go out after finding arguments with his family. But the next day when he suggested that you take the week off, spend time with your sister, go to that recital you didn’t know he knew about, you checked his forehead with your wrist.

“Are you sick?” You had asked. He gently pushed your wrist off of his forehead, giving you a terse look. 

“Harlan committed suicide last night, the funeral is tomorrow, but after that you should take some time. I need some time.” Your heart broke a bit. Yeah Ransom and Harlan butt heads all the time, but they were practically the same person so it made sense to you that they would fight. Both prideful assholes. 

“I’m so sorry Ransom.” Should you hug him? You didn’t know. You two didn’t have any physical contact really. You’d never seen him hug anyone. So no, no hugs. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You opted to just gently lay your hand on his wrist. His eyes met yours for a moment, silence. 

“Just come to the funeral.” With that he stood up and walked away. 

That’s why it was so off-putting when the bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral and as you stood there with his sobbing family you figured next time you saw him you were going to spit in his coffee. 

“I haven’t seen him since the day before the funeral.” You admitted to the officers. “He asked me to go, and didn’t even show up.” 

“If we have any other questions we’ll let you know.” And you were released from questioning, but you had so many questions yourself. Arson? Fran? He attempted to murder Marta. Was this worth it? The fucking asshole never had to work for anything in his life, and even now as you stood in the courtroom waiting to see what bail would be set as so you could relay to Linda, you wanted to smack his pretty little face for being such a fucking idiot. 

A bailiff read out the case number and in walked Ransom. You’d never seen him in any outfit that cost less than your rent and here the bastard was, walking in with a black and white striped jumpsuit, the county jail logo stamped in red on the back.  You were the only person that showed up for him. Linda was half waiting for you to text her a dollar amount so she could pay his bail, the other half of her was debating on whether to leave him there or not. At least, that’s what she told you anyway. 

You could only imagine what you looked like to him. Your eyes were puffy and red from just crying in the parking lot for an hour in between getting questioned and coming to his hearing. Before that the detectives had taken you practically from your bed. But you were here, in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, coat pulled over the ratty thing, and snow boots on your feet. It started snowing this morning. 

His eyes caught yours as soon as he entered, but he quickly looked away. It was like a goddamn movie, his wrists cuffed to his waist, a chain leading down to the cuffs around his ankles. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

A chill went down your spine, “Bail set at a million dollars.” And a gavel. Cameras clicking behind you. Thirty minutes later you were waiting for his release. You handed a dry cleaning bag with clothes to the officer at the front desk. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

It wasn’t long before the secure, thick, metal door behind the metal detectors opened and Ransom was walking through it back to you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, quickly circling to the desk to get his phone, wallet, and keys back. The garment bag was shoved back in your hands containing the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested, and then he was out the doors of the county jail, speed walking to your car. His was taken in as evidence. 

You used your key fob to unlock the car, Ransom wordlessly climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him as you settled in the driver’s. This was uncomfortable. You drove in silence for a minute, awkwardly leaning over to turn on the radio. The song only played for a second before Ransom leaned over, smacking the button to turn it off again. 

“Just say it.” He spat out at you. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. 

“Say what, Ransom?” You were scared of him now and he could tell. He breathed harshly through his nose. You could feel his eyes on you. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? Why I did it? Yell at me for being a fucking idiot?” He threw his hands up in frustration. There was a beat of silence more, “Say something.” 

“I don’t know what to say!” You really didn’t. What do you even say? You’ve been cursing him for a while. In your head. Cursing him since you left the interrogation earlier. You didn’t know what any of this meant for your job, if you’ll be able to keep your sister in school, if you’ll be able to even afford the apartment you two live in right now. And all because Ransom wasn’t getting anymore fucking money from his Grandfather the fucking prick. 

“Anything. Fucking say…” He leaned over in his seat, growing close to you. “Are you scared of me?” He smirked. Not in his, I’m playing with you and getting my way, smirk. And not in his, I’m making you weirdly uncomfortable and it really gets me off, smirk. But some sick sinister type of smirk that made your stomach roll. 

“You fucking murdered someone Ransom.” You said between clenched teeth. He studied you for a minute before settling back in his seat. Silence took over until you made it to the front door of his house. Lawyers should be coming by in about an hour to start working on his case, his parents should be here soon as well seeing as they were backing all of this. 

“You think I would hurt you?” Ransom asked as he stripped himself of his coat, purposefully letting it fall to the floor just so you’d have to pick it up. You left it there. He turned to look at you, still in the doorway of his house. “I killed Fran because I had to.” He spat. “It was for the bigger fucking picture. You want to be paid don’t you? You like having money right?”

“Your Mom pays me Ransom.” You stated calmly. His voice was escalating in volume as he continued.

“So fucking what? Who bought you that fucking coat, huh?” He was talking about the expensive wool coat you are currently wearing. He bought it for you after seeing that your old bubble coat had stuffing pouring out of the right pocket. You didn’t ask for it. “Who pays for your fucking phone, huh?” You had a month-by-month plan before. Ransom gifted you and your sister iphones sometime in the spring, saying that he needed to be able to reach you without having every call get dropped due to bad reception. Your sister’s was just because they were buy-one-get-one, or so he said. You didn’t ask for it. “And that fucking bracelet on your wrist too? Is my Mom buying you jewelry? Or just me and my fucking Dad?” He was still under the impression that something had gone on between you and his father apparently. 

“That’s it! I’m done.” You yelled back at him. “I fucking quit.”  You stripped the coat off your shoulders and tossed  it on the floor beside his watching his mouth snap shut. You wiggled the bracelet off your wrist and threw that down on top of it before slipping your phone out of the side pocket of your yoga pants and throwing that on the pile. “I’ll mail Julia’s phone back to you.” You still hadn’t stepped foot inside the house, turning to walk back to your car when Ransom’s thundering footsteps could be heard behind you. 

Fuck he was going to kill you. 

It had continued to snow throughout the morning, the soft white stuff still falling heavily from the sky as you rushed to your car, you had to get away. You didn’t make it far before Ransom’s arms wrapped around your body from behind, tugging you tightly to his chest. You let out a loud scream before he covered your mouth with his hand. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered quickly into your ear. “Please stop, I’m sorry.” His large body was bent over your back as you were crouched over trying to get him to release you, both of you breathing heavily as you settled against him. “Y/N I’m sorry.” He slowly started walking the two of you back toward the house, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He shouted as you tried to bite his hand. He uncovered your mouth, arms loosening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” He repeated a little more calmly. 

He brought you back into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. You wanted to leave, eyes tearing up. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Ransom stood for a moment with his back against the door before peeling the wet socks off of his feet. You hadn’t realized that he took his shoes off when he originally came in. His feet were bright red from the cold. You glanced to your left at the knife block there, slowly backing away. 

“No, no, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sunk down to his knees. He looked like a fucking idiot, face flushed from the cold, kneeling in front of the door. He slowly made his way over to you, not rising from his knees, shuffling forward with his hands open and facing you. Your heart was racing as he stopped at your feet, slowly moving his arms to wrap around your waist, burying his face in your ratty old college sweatshirt. 

He was hugging you. Actually hugging you, on his knees, face turned into your belly. You could have sworn he whispered, “Please don’t go.” But you couldn’t be sure. 

A pot of coffee was made, coats picked up, and floor mopped before the lawyers and his parents arrived. The only evidence of your earlier fight was the absence of the cartier bracelet you refused to put back on. It sat heavily in Ransom’s pants pocket. Their discussion was loud in the living room and no one looked up as you lay the coffee and finger foods on the coffee table, Ransom’s cup unmade for him out of spite. As you turned to make your way back to the kitchen, Richard’s hand shot out to grab you harm, halting your movements, 

“Grab me some Macallan for me, would you sweetheart?” Your eyes flit over to Ransom, who’s jaw twitched, sharing a look with you before looking back to his lawyers and mother. 

This was none of your business, but you needed to know what your future was going to look like. Were you out of a job? If Ransom went to prison there would be no one to babysit. So yeah, you would be. He admitted on tape to arson and murder. Pre-meditated arson was minimum of 10 years, Murder was 30 years. He’s looking at at least 40 years in prison. He would be an old man before he was even allowed parole. 

The group grew silent, or you couldn’t hear them as you started dinner for that evening. You were sure the four of them would be staying. “Y’N, would you come here please?” That was Linda. 

You made your way over to the group, shuffling nervously in your wool socks. “Yes Mrs. Drysdale?” Linda smiled, 

“It’s back to Thrombey now, but that’s another issue.” Hmmm. “If I was willing to pay you…. Say four times what you’re making now, would you take Ransom’s house arrest? That is, if we are able to work the judge down to that.” 

“House arrest?” You looked to Ransom confused, he wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Murder and Arson-”

“The only proof they have is the recording, the only thing they’re going to be able to pin on Mr. Drysdale here would be the attempted murder of the nurse.” A chill went down your spine, 

“You tried to kill Marta too?” You asked Ransom, incredulously. He didn’t respond, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. His lawyers made you uncomfortable, they were definitely sleazy and you knew money could get you far in the justice system. If that recording was 75% of the evidence against Ransom and it was suddenly and accidentally destroyed, they would only have what was actually witnessed. 

“Well, would you?” Linda asked again. 

“I uhm… I have a sister who lives with me, I can’t just-”

“I’m sure there’s someone else who can take care of her. How long would it be for?” She looked to the lawyers, “Two or three years?” This was impossible. You couldn’t. Linda looked back at you. “How about this…” She leaned over and clasped your hands softly. “We will pay for your sister’s school, her housing, everything she needs while you’re doing this for us, and you’ll still get paid what I originally offered.”

“If Ransom gets house arrest?” You asked. 

“Yes ‘if’.” She was selling it hard. Julia could stay with your aunt. She didn’t live far from where the two of you currently reside. The majority of your income went to her school, books, clothes, rent, and groceries. Having all of that taken care of would mean you’d be getting four times your current salary and not having to spend any of it. Just for a couple years. 

“If Ransom gets house arrest,” you looked over at him, his eyes briefly meeting yours, studying you it felt like, “If he does, I will do what you need me to do. But I don’t even know how-” Linda’s hands quickly released yours. 

“We will figure that out when the time comes,” Linda has a shit eating grin on her face, “Write up a contract.” Directed at the lawyers, “Now, how are we going to get our hands on that recording?” That’s it. You were dismissed until they needed you again. 

“Why would you do that?” Ransom asked you. Everyone had left a little bit ago, you were busy washing the dishes, knowing as soon as this task was finished you’d be able to go home and this day from hell would be over. 

“Do what?” There was a piece of cheese melted on the side of the casserole dish that wouldn’t fucking come off. 

“Agree to take my punishment?” You paused in your scrubbing, 

“That’s if they actually settle on house arrest.” You finally unwedged the cheese, rinsing off the casserole dish and placing it in the dishwasher. 

“Hmpf.” Ransom had been cold and distant since he burrowed his head into your belly. Has to make up for his extreme weakness then. “But why?” He asked again.

You turned to him, eyes staring directly into his. You watched him fiddling with the gold bracelet you had taken off earlier, it was in his hand down by his side. “It’s what you said earlier right?” You scoffed, removing the rubber gloves from your hands and throwing them in the sink. You walked closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Because I need the fucking money.” 

The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Usually there was texting here and there, ‘Where are my grey socks, the ones I usually wear with the navy Ralph Lauren slacks?’ or ‘Next week when you meal prep for my weekend can you make me this?’ with a link to a recipe. ‘Pick me up a pack of magnums on your way in.’ Fuck you. 

You got him regular Trojans. 

Monday was Christmas luckily enough, and you knew you weren’t going in. Ransom didn’t even text you to see where you were. His account was rapidly depleting funds, you checked every once in a while. 

234.72 ETRN-STD

523.50 DRNK

435.62 HAWTHNE

The list went on. Multiple spots a day over the weekend. That’s who he was going to be now, the old fucking white dude who sits at a bar all day hitting on girls uncomfortably too young. How many giggling 18 year olds would you kick out crying and screaming the next day? Disgusting.  

“Do you have them?” Them meaning the cookies that were currently at the bottom of your reusable Aldi bag. Your sister, Julia, was off to your right, setting a pot with water on the stove to boil. It was Christmas, just the two of you, and with the aftermath of everything that was going on with the Thrombey/Drysdale clan, you were happy to get some time off to relax. You might even push it so that you wouldn’t have to work tomorrow. We’ll see if Ransom texts you. 

“Of course I do.” This bag has been in your closet all weekend. There’s a bakery near your apartment that your Mom would take you to all the time, every time you got an A, won a game, gotten an award. Everything they made reminded you of her, and it was something you craved more than anything. Every Christmas they would make these fresh baked cookie packs with all kinds, chocolate chip, double chocolate chunk, snicker doodle, gingerbread, white chocolate macadamia, chocolate and peanut butter. 

Every Christmas, after dinner, you and your sister would slouch in front of the TV with scalding hot cups of hot chocolate and devour almost the whole box. Every year except last year when at the time your sister was home alone watching The Grinch you were in a car with Ransom going over a hundred miles an hour and scared for your life. This Christmas, Ransom would not be getting between the two of you, food was cooking, lights in the living room were dimmed. The tree was all lit up and the presents you had exchanged earlier that morning sat unwrapped beneath it. 

Christmas music was playing softly on the tv as you heard someone knock on your front door. 

“Coming!” You yelled. It wasn’t uncommon for a neighbor to have forgotten something, sugar, butter, milk, that they needed for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon for you to answer your door without looking through the peephole. What was uncommon was Ransom Drysdale standing sheepishly on the other side. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were red. The cheeks and nose from the cold, the eyes probably from the alcohol you could smell on him. You sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on, “What are you doing here?” 

“Bar called me an uber and I didn’t want to go home.” He explained quickly, words slurring slightly. 

“Your parents-”

“Fuck my parents!” He yelled, you quickly shushed him, looking down the halls to see if anyone was peeking out into the hallway. “Fuck my parents.” He said quietly. 

“Ransom…” You sighed, stepping out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. “What do you want?” His eyes were glazed, he shrugged dumbly, swaying forward. “Okay big guy,” I guess this is happening, “Come on.” You quietly ushered him inside, shutting the door softly behind you. 

“Who is it? Oh, woah.” Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, shifting over to you. ‘Murderer’ she mouthed. 

“Go set the table.” You ushered Ransom over to the small table that could barely seat the two of you let alone a third, quickly brewing a pot of coffee and keeping an eye on your sister who was scared to get to close to him. “He’s harmless Julia.” You reassured her, or were you reassuring yourself so that you didn’t feel like such a bad guardian, letting a murderer into your home. He was past angry drunk Ransom, which is probably why the bar kicked him out, he was sad Ransom right now. You’d never seen him cry but this was probably the closest you were going to get to it. He was quiet, sat in the chair just staring as you and your sister finished dinner. 

You poured him a cup of coffee and a glass of water, hoping to sober him up enough that you could safely send him home later on. The three of you sat down to eat. Ransom staring listlessly out the window. You made him a plate and told him to eat. And he did. You told him to finish his water. And he did. You told him to finish his coffee. And he did. This was almost terrifying. He hadn’t said anything since ‘fuck my parents’, and he looked dead on his feet. 

“Send him home,” Your sister pleaded. The man hadn’t moved. Cleanup had already started and finished, he was still nursing the third glass of water you’d given him. Cookies were warming in the oven. His eyes were less glassy now. He was slowly sobering up. The large helping of mashed potatoes and three bread rolls he ate didn’t hurt either. 

“He’s my boss, I can’t really kick him out.” You explained, “Let me get him sober enough that I know he’s okay and then he’ll go home.” She rolled her eyes at you, stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, adding more chunks of chocolate to melt. Ransom, still unspeaking, didn’t protest when you moved him into the living room, setting him up in the recliner with his own cup of hot chocolate and three cookies, before snuggling down with your sister and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You moved only once when he tapped the mug against your arm. 

More.

“I’ve never done anything.” He said. “Never went to college, barely graduated high school.” He was rambling to himself, maybe to you? “I’ve spent the entirety of my adult years inside someone’s cunt.” 

“Alright, Julia. Time for bed.” You ignored her whining protests. The movie wasn’t over yet. “Please?” You begged her. She hated Ransom. You knew this. She knows you know this. ‘All he does is take you from me.’ is what she once said to you. Just to treat you like shit. 

“I have no money.” Ransom’s eyes met yours. “None.” 

“I know Ransom.” He scoffed. 

“I’m no better off than you now.” 

“You still have your house. I’d say you are still better off.” You started cleaning up around him, letting the asshole sit in his self-pity. 

“C’mere.” It was a quiet request. The Grinch was packing up his sleigh in the background. You dropped the two mugs you were holding onto the counter, circling back to the recliner. Ransom’s hand came out soft, wrapping around your forearm and gently guiding you to sit in his lap.

“Ransom, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You tried to pull away, heartbeat beginning to pick up. His still bloodshot eyes raised to meet yours. 

“Please hold me.” Fuck. What were you supposed to do with that? Heart melting you sunk into his lap, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight. It was quiet for a while. Sitting with the credits rolling, Ransom’s arms wrapped around your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. Comforting him from whatever crisis he was currently going through. 

“Marta ruined everything” He whispered into your neck. 

“No Ransom, you did.” 

2020

The trial, fuck me, the trial. The whole fucking family showed to watch Ransom crash and burn and get exactly what he deserved. Well that and to stare down Marta Cabrera who sat with the prosecution in some shiny new digs, a stunning gold cartier bracelet on her wrist. That was familiar. Ransom’s cheap bought apology. There was a tension there, you knew. He always had a thing for ‘the help’. You wondered if that’s where he had been this past week. But it’s strange isn’t it? This whole situation. It was unsettling and for some reason you felt irreversibly used.  

“I knew the knife was a prop.” And that was that. Audio recording gone, attempted murder charge whittled down to aggravated assault. A slap on the wrist. Two years of house arrest. And here you were, in Ransom’s home with a fucking house arrest bracelet making your ankle itch. Unfucking believable. Ransom had sat in the courtroom, head raised, armani suit, legs crossed and body relaxed. He knew he was getting out of this from the minute he walked in. 

The Thrombey trial that was supposedly going to last three months only lasted a week. You still had a job, and in a remarkable turn of events Linda Drysdale and their legal team got exactly what they predicted. 

“I’m going out.” Was the first thing Ransom told you as you unpacked your clothes. He had half thought to buy you a bed and a small dresser that he haphazardly got someone to shove between his Pam Anderson Baywatch poster and the unplugged Space Invaders original arcade console. This was a 90s teenage boy’s dream bedroom. And now it was yours. He didn’t give you much time to respond and he was gone. 

They say that you never really know someone until you live with them. And you’ve never felt that saying more true. Ransom was a fucking asshole. 

During your previous employment schedule you would come in at 9 am with breakfast and let him know of anything he needed to do that day, if his Mom needed him for whatever reason, events his was scheduled to go to, dates he promised he’d keep. He’d let you know what to cancel and what he would get ready for, and then you were off. Cleaning and maintaining the home to the best of your ability, binge watching tv shows, trying new recipes from pinterest. 

Ransom was disgusting. 

Clothes discarded all over his floor, bedroom, living room, hallways. Beard trimmings all over the sink and what you would hopefully assume were more beard trimmings lining the bottom of his shower. You really didn’t want to think about Ransom’s pubic hair situation. He would do things like take his coffee mugs into his room or into the study and leave like a sip left in each one, letting it sit there until the milk began to curdle. Wet towels shoved into corners and every morning when you went in to make his bed it was like he was running in his sleep, loose and fitted scrunched in the corner of the foot board, duvet thrown off and pillows with half off shams. 

He was doing this shit on purpose. 

And you hated him for it. 

It wasn’t long after the trial that he began a steady routine. Gym, breakfast, some puttering around the house, making plans and then he would go out. And that’s when we come to this, 

“He said he would be back and we would have breakfast together.” The girl was pretty, but her voice was annoying. 

“I’m one hundred percent sure he did not say that.” You stood with arms crossed in the doorway, watching her fix her face in the mirror propped against his bedroom wall. An old antique thing that didn’t match with the decor of the house at all. 

“Hmpf.” She glared at you, “Fine, when he gets back, we’ll see who is right.” This was before you became practiced at this kind of thing. 

You felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans, 

Is she gone yet? 

Fucking prick. 

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” You explained, “He has a lot to do today, I’m sure if he said you’ll go out for breakfast it’ll probably be another day.” 

“I said.” She stepped up to you, “I’m staying.” Fuck. You rolled your eyes and walked past her into the room, 

Not leaving, come deal with her yourself

He had been waiting down the street like a psycho, waiting to see her leave so he can come back home, but it’s not really working out in his favor. You could feel her eyes on you as you made the bed and picked his laundry up from the floor, tossing them two feet away into the laundry basket you left in his bathroom in hopes he would actually use it. The socks left discarded beside it was a clear message of disregard, a ‘fuck you’ from a petulant child. 

You could hear the door slam downstairs. Great, you looked at the girl who was scrolling through her phone curled up in the reading chair in the corner of his room, he’s pissed. You could hear his stomping feet climb the stairs and the girl looked up from her phone hopeful towards the door. 

“Alright, time to go.” He huffed, coming into view. The girl stood from the chair, shifting over towards him and trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “Nope. Let’s go, your uber is here.” 

“But, I-” She began, you could see tears welling up in her eyes and you began to feel bad for her. 

You were never one to have one night stands. You had one serious boyfriend when you were in college, but when your Mom got sick you had ended it and moved back home. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone else since. You just didn’t have the time. That being said, this girl honestly thought Ransom had a heart. She was naive and young, younger than you. Your heart hurt for her, but honestly, no one should be with Ransom anyway. 

His birthday dinner had soon come and gone. Linda and Richard sat around the dinner table eating Ransom’s favorite foods you’d spent the day cooking for him. Drinking whiskey and wine, Ransom’s glass never empty. You’d had a few glasses yourself with the tapas style dinner you’d put together. A beautifully iced spice cake sitting on the counter with unlit candles for dessert. 

This was the night that Ransom blew up on you for the last time. The night he cried into your neck, drunk and unstable. Clutching desperately at your body for comfort, burying himself against you all touch starved and needy. This was more intense than last Christmas where his dry eyed stare begged you to hold him in an uncommon moment of weakness. 

He was so hard to read sometimes and you were never quite sure where you stood. You knew you really hated him sometimes, other times… not so much. The more you knew his parents, the more you understood why Ransom was an ungrateful shit to begin with. You almost couldn’t blame him for how he turned out.

Almost. 

“Help me with this.” He stood in the doorway to the small office he never used. It was pretty much just for show. A large wooden ornate desk, his macbook, and a bookshelf full of books you know he probably never read. Including the ones penned by his own Grandfather. 

There were beginnings here. Multi-colored post its lined the desk, laptop left on the seat of one of the chairs in the room. 

“What is this?” You asked him, fingers plucking a post-it from the desk,

Crime of Passion?

He had been watching a lot of true crime documentaries lately. It didn’t help but creep you out. This man, a murderer, suddenly extremely into serial killers and murder itself. 

“I’m going to write a book.” He explained. His face was in a grin, almost giddy. 

“A book.” You looked at him incredulously. Your eyes drifted over to Harlan’s novels sitting stacked on another chair, spines finally cracked and pages thumbed through, sticky tabs stuck throughout the pages. You pointed to them, “A book?”

“Yeah,” He gestured around to the post-its, “What do you think?” It’ll keep him busy that’s for sure. You sighed, sticking the post-it back on the desk and looked at him. He was waiting, expectantly, why did he care what you thought about this?

“Is it gonna be about Fran?” You asked awkwardly, he scoffed,

“No, I’m gonna write books like my Grandfather wrote,” He plucked a post-it from the desk, showing you,

Wife murders husband?

“I’m gonna write a mystery novel.” 

He was good. You couldn’t lie about that. And you wouldn’t. This was a strange thing. The routine changed. Gym, breakfast, writing, lunch, writing, dinner, and then he would go out. His mind was moving faster than his fingers could and you were left reading a new chapter or two every night. You’d once loved Harlan’s novels. Your Mother was obsessed with them. It was partially why you had even taken the job tutoring Meg in the first place, but you know what they say. Never meet your heroes. 

Harlan was kind in some ways, funny, but proud. His pride is what eventually killed him you’ve found out. The medicine Ransom had switched wasn’t his cause of death, his refusal for help was. 

Ransom was as good as he was, better even. 

“He’s got a lot of me in him,” Harlan said to you once, “He could have everything I’ve ever had if he would pull his head out of his ass.” 

This was promising. 

You were honestly afraid when Ransom first said he would be writing a novel. What if he wasn’t a good writer? Could you really lie and try to support him even though it was absolute garbage? You supposed you would have to. You were relieved to find out that it was unnecessary. 

He slipped a red pen into your hand when handing you this last chapter, the book almost finished. “I want to see how you react to everything,” He explained, the book was coming to the climax, you were a chapter away from the big reveal and the aftermath, his hands gently massaged your shoulders before he bent at the waist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sat on the sofa. “Do you like it?” His hot breath brushed against your ear, a tingle went down your spine. 

“Ransom,” Your hand came up to lay over his forearm, brushing the skin with your thumb, “It’s amazing.” You could almost feel the grin that stretched across his face, he turned, pressing his face into your hair where you could swear he laid a soft kiss before releasing you. 

“Of course it is,” Here we go, “I’m a fucking Thrombey.” His fucking smirk. That's what he left you with, returning to his office to pound out the last two chapters. 

It was a process. The editing, printing, shipping off to multiple publishers. He got replies after a month. 

Eager replies. 

Whatever Ransom wanted, Ransom got. The lucky bastard stayed lucky.

“Look Babe.” Ransom dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you, “Look at this shit.” He grabs a knife from the block on the counter, slipping it under the packing tape to open the box revealing glossy black covers. He first fucking novel. There. Printed. A picture of a fireplace, chair facing it, empty. A blood soaked carpet. He picked one from the box, opening it. And there in the forward, the dedication, Harlan’s name…

...and yours. 

“Don’t get all big headed about it kid.” He smirked. Your heart was racing in your chest. 

“Why would you…” Your fingers gently traced the letters of your name, there in print, as it would be on every copy sold. 

“Wouldn’t have been able to write it without you being chained to my house, only seems fair.” He shrugged. “We can call it even.” You scoffed,

“Dedicating your book to me hardly makes my doing your house arrest for you even Ransom.” He smirked again, flipping through the pages, seeing his words in bold print. 

“I think it’s plenty fair,” Okay, now you wanted to smack him, “You live here for free, you eat here for free, and you get paid pretty well to do so.” His devilish eyes met yours over the top of the book he was still thumbing through. “If anything you’re still ahead because you’re the kept woman of a bestselling author.” 

“A kept woman?” You dropped the book onto the table. “I’m not your fucking whore Ransom.” 

“Not yet.” Audibly you made noise of protest, internally your core thrummed with heat. 

“Never.” You packed up your tablet and the new book, attempting to walk around him to go sit out by the fire pit for a while. His large hand gently grabbed your upper arm, tugging you into his body, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your arms trapped between you.

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly soft, heartbreaking. 

“I am proud of you Ransom.” You shifted your belongings to your left hand, tugging your right from against his chest to wrap around his torso. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Book published, royalties rolling in, Ransom was making his own money now. He was more cocky than ever. Proud. The, I-don’t-need-you-anymore-mom, attitude. But can you still pay my babysitter? The girls came more easily than ever before, not that they didn’t come easy before the bestseller. 

Every. Night. 

Sometimes two girls were leaving in the morning, gently ushered out the door with promises of a phone call and a, “I’ll let him know.” It made you feel dirty, betraying almost. Like you were supposed to be on these girl’s side instead of cleaning up after Ransom’s mess. 

You could gag. The milky condoms, two of them, tossed haphazardly aside on the hardwood floor of Ransom’s bedroom. Disgusting. You could hear him laughing at you now. 

“It could be you,” He says, “Just say the word.” If you weren’t so irritated with Ransom for this very thing your panties would be dripping with the thought. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen island forking soft scrambled eggs into his mouth, cheesy with peppers and onions, the way he likes them, the way you made them, when you come downstairs. “You could at least throw the condoms in the fucking trash Ransom.” He looked up from his eggs to you, peeling off the latex gloves you’d just used, smirking. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Asshole. 

“You’re disgusting.” You begin on the dishes, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. You hear the stool scoot back against the floor, “That wasn’t an invitation.” You said, hearing his approach. His arms wrapped around your middle as you began to scrub. His head rested on your shoulder. 

“You love me.” He slowly rocked your body side to side, “You love how disgusting I am.” You tried to shrug him off of you, but he held you tighter. Since last Christmas when you curled up in his lap and held him for two hours until he was sober enough to leave you he’d been slowly getting more and more affectionate with you. He was touch starved, hungry for it. The intimacy of holding and being held. 

You didn’t picture Linda as much of a hugger.

The house was decorated. It was the least he could do for you really. This was the first Christmas since your Mother died that you and your sister wouldn’t be completing your tradition, but you tried not to think about it. Ransom humored you just after Thanksgiving, bringing home a fake Christmas tree, ornaments and lights. You’d ordered a couple of extras online and three stockings were on the mantle, Christmas lights lined the windows giving the house a warm glow. 

“I’m sending everyone in my family a copy.” He told you, “a signed copy.” Of his book. Rubbing their noses in it. The book has firmly held the number one spot on the New York Times Bestseller List for weeks. Already over a million copies have been sold. Whether its due to the fame of the not-murder trial or Harlan’s legacy you couldn’t be sure, but even without those things the book was incredibly good. 

Ransom could have made it on his own, a long time ago. 

“You don’t think that’s a little crass?” He released you long enough for you to finish loading the dishwasher, watching you place the pod of soap and shut it like he didn’t realize that’s actually what you’re supposed to do. 

“Fuck them,” He scoffed, “They’ve always hated me.” 

“To be fair,” You turned to the soft sweater clad man leaning against the kitchen island, “You’re an asshole.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, but that’s why I’m so charming.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

It could almost be domestic. The way things were now. So different from before. Yeah Ransom was still bringing a new girl home almost every night and sure you could hear them fuck from your bed on the other side of the wall, but for the most part it was always just the two of you. 

His parents never ventured out here much anymore, since his book was published he had a deadline for the next book that needed to be completed so he wrote almost every day now, sometimes for hours. You made his every meal, on the odd occasion you’d order out. Sometimes when he needed a break he would come sit on the sofa with you as you watched whatever show you were currently obsessed with. One time you walked in on him watching Love Island by himself and you hadn’t let him live it down yet, maybe not ever. 

He grew soft, sweet almost. A kiss against your palm. Hugs from behind as you worked at the stove. A snuggle of feet under his thigh as you watched Miracle on 34th Street by a crackling fire. Wordlessly anticipating each others needs. It spoke to a high level of intimacy. Something you both chose to ignore. 

It was nice. 

He didn’t go out on Christmas Eve. Not only because his usual bar was closing earlier than normal because of the holiday, he assured you, but because he wanted to stay in. Snow was falling thick outside, a foot of it already blanketed on the ground. To tell the truth you didn’t want him to go out in this weather anyway. You knew he was willing to drive a little drunk and he didn’t exactly obey speed limits. It was safer here. 

You were still reeling from the argument you had with your sister earlier in the night. You called her to see what she was doing, but she was at a friends house and wanted nothing to do with you. Since the house arrest you haven’t exactly been on speaking terms. She wasn’t Ransom’s biggest fan and didn’t really understand why you needed to do this. You could kind of blame it on yourself for her having no idea how much money you needed to keep her in school, her cello and lessons weren’t cheap and nor are the electronics she seemed so attached to. This two year sentence you were playing out for Ransom would put you in the green, far in the green, so far in the green that you were willing to put up with all his petty bullshit and be okay with your sister hating you if it meant your futures were secure. 

After all this was over, you might just be able to go back to school. 

“Are you hungry?” You removed your feet from their spot beneath his thigh, grabbing both of your now empty mugs, padding over to the kitchen. Your stomach had just begun to growl. The stew you had simmering on the stove was ready to eat. 

“Yeah,” Ransom replied, not turning away from the television. Santa’s trial had just began. It was a strange thing, having him watch classic Christmas movies, soft in sweats and a comical christmas sweater you jokingly bought him. “I look good in anything.” He said. He wasn’t lying. 

You poured two bowls full, bringing over a plate with some crusty bread he was kind enough to go out and grab for you earlier in the day. “Thank you,” He said softly as he took the bowl from your hands, eyes still not moving from the screen. He quickly spooned some into his mouth, 

“It’s hot.” You said, his only reaction being trying to rapidly cool it in his mouth, his tongue probably burned. He gave you a glare, before resting the bowl on the coffee table. This could almost be a relationship. The two of you together. In this oddly domestic moment. He was the only man in your life right now, it wasn’t like you had many options for seeking others. 

That’s why you would get so hot and bothered with him. And that’s the only reason. 

He had never seen A Miracle on 34th Street before. You’d think with how old fashioned Harlan was he would have at least seen it once or twice, but then again, any time spent together as a family was always strained and argumentative. 

Even when he was a kid though? He was the first grandchild. His mother was the first child of Harlan. You were sure when he was a child he was spoiled rotten, more toys than he could play with, never wanting for anything. But that wasn’t exactly true. The touch starved trust-fund baby didn’t get the one thing kids need the most, more than presents, toys, electronics. Real genuine love. 

His Mother loved him to an extent. It’s why you were the one on house arrest instead of him, but she thought loving him meant giving him whatever he wants. When we all know that’s not what kids want. They want to be told no, given structure, rules. How many times have you gotten into arguments with your sister because you didn’t allow her to go roam the streets at night without supervision or give her money for some stupid thing she wouldn’t be even bothered with in two weeks?

But you could also see how no one really knows how to raise a child and you just try your best. Having Harlan for a Father couldn’t have been easy. 

Under the tree that you’d decorated and in the stockings you’d hung were presents. Ransom had everything he’d ever wanted, but you couldn’t help but want him to have something to open tomorrow morning. Granted it wouldn’t be much, but it’s the thought that counts. In the fridge you already have most of what will go into tomorrow’s dinner made. Hopefully your sister thinks about your extended invitation and Ransom can go pick her up at some point tomorrow. You missed her, a lot. Your heart ached with wishes that she was here right now. 

Ransom’s eyes had gotten shifty. The movie was coming to an end and his bowl was empty. “Did you want more?” You asked him, thinking that would be the cause of his shiftiness, maybe indecisive? 

“No.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not going to be home for dinner tomorrow.” You weren’t sure you heard that properly.

“You’re not going to be home….” You started, picking his bowl up from the coffee table and standing, “For dinner on Christmas?” 

He was scared to tell you, that’s cute. Your body was bristling with anger as you took the stew off the stove to cool before you could properly store it. He didn’t move from his spot on the couch. 

“My Mother wants me to go to this dinner with-” 

“So every other time your Mother wants you to do something it’s ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat shit’, but when we’ve already made plans for tomorrow and my sister-” You felt tears prickle in your eyes. “What the fuck Ransom?” His face was stoic from the couch. 

“Why does it matter?” He asked, “I stayed home tonight!”

“And that makes up for it?” You stood at the kitchen counter, staring across the room at him. “I already started on dinner, Ransom. You couldn’t have maybe said something while I was prepping all of this?” You gestured to the fridge. He shrugged. 

“I didn’t know that was all for tomorrow.” His face still betrayed no expression. 

“She can come here,” You offered, “We can have dinner here.” His eyes shifted away from yours to watch the rolling credits. 

“She doesn’t want to.” He stood from the couch, rounding towards the tree slowly, searching. 

“Why not?” He was being shady about this, the whole situation was strange. “I already have all of this food prepared and I can’t pick up Julia myself… Ransom?” 

“She doesn’t like being around you.” He stated honestly, he picked a box out among the presents under the tree, eyes meeting yours as he fumbled with it. 

“What?” You get it. She’s technically your employer. But she’s never had any issue dropping in for dinner or putting you to work on some task for herself. 

“Listen,” He came closer to where you still stood, your chest tightening. “Y/N, I hate my family-”

“Then why are you going to-”

“I have to do this.” His cheeks were flushed, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My therapist… I don’t want to do this.” He slid the box across the counter top. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.” 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better about it?” You scoffed, picking up the gold wrapped box. His mouth opened and then quickly shut without speaking. You sighed heavily, a headache coming on. “I’ve got nothing, Ransom. All I wanted to do tomorrow was spend some time with my family and if you’re not going to be around…” 

“I know, I can maybe go pick your sister up in the morning?” He offered. Your eyes watery, staring at him. He doesn’t get it. Your heart was aching a bit. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You spat, leaving the present still wrapped in front of you, thumbing the thick wrapping paper. 

“I know.” He swallowed. 

“What does your therapist want you to do?” You never talked about what went on in his therapy sessions. He was too closed off after them, drank too heavily, lashed out too easily. You’d let him slowly work through his refractory period and let him cozy up to you once he was feeling better. 

Ransom felt awkward, you could feel it. He was uncomfortable. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” He asked. He was turning. He got too emotional. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do or where I have to do it. I said I would go pick Julia up, I’m giving you what you want.” 

“Fine.” You were staring each other down. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there to get her around noon and then you can go have dinner with the people you hate.” He rolled his eyes, 

“I don’t know what you think this is, Y/N.” He scoffed, “You still work for me, we’re not playing house here.” 

“Then stop making me.” You spat back at him, both of you in a similar stance, hands gripping the edge of the stone counter top. 

“I’m not making you do anything.” There was a rage growing in his eyes. 

“You are, Ransom. I take care of you like you’re my own fucking child. I clean up all of your messes, I cook all of your fucking food, I do everything for you.” 

“I don’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to! You literally just expect it of me.” You yelled. 

“Because it’s your job.” He laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “I have no loyalty to you Y/N. None.” Fine.

Fine.

You hated him. You fucking hated him. You were doing all of this for him. And you’ve never felt more dumb in your life. The house arrest bracelet on your ankle felt heavier than ever. It itches like mad. 

“Fuck you Ransom.” You rounded the counter, moving towards the stairs when he grabbed your arm. 

“Take the gift.” He slapped the box into your hand. 

“I don’t want the fucking gift, Hugh.” He looked taken aback for a moment.

“Don’t call me that.” His hand fell from your arm, stepping closer to you. 

“That’s what you want, right?” You asked, “You want me to do all of these things for you and take care of you and fucking hold you when you need comfort but when I’m fucking trying to make things easier for you, you’re all the sudden ‘I have no loyalty to you.” 

“Wait a fucking minute,” He growled, “I take care of you too. Who the fuck buys all the shit you want on a fucking whim? You’re in the mood for curry, I get you curry. You make a comment about how you really want to decorate for Christmas and who fucking gets you everything you need to do that? You say that you really want to get into fucking knitting and who gets you all the fucking shit you need to fucking knit?” 

“Buying me things doesn’t mean you care about me Ransom.” You shook the box in your hand for emphasis. “All I wanted to know is what your therapist wants you to do tomorrow, you can go have dinner with your Mother. It’s fine. I just wanted you to fucking open up to me.” 

“I am open with you!” He yells, “You know more about me than anyone else in my fucking life, it’s hard for me okay? I can never escape you, you’re always fucking there. I don’t get to fucking-” He placed his hands on his hips, turning from you. He let out a heavy, slow breath. Calming himself down. “I don’t want to go tomorrow, trust me Y/N, I really don’t, but I have to.” His eyes met yours, softer this time. 

You felt like some part of you was being irrational. This dinner might help his growth. Whatever milestone he was reaching with his therapist, this could be really good for him. But you also felt a little selfish, you wanted him here, with you. You felt more like his family than anyone else. Or at least, he felt more like your family and he should be here to spend Christmas with his family. You knew he felt at least somewhat the same, if the gifts addressed to Julia under the tree from him were anything to go by. You wanted him here, but he wasn’t yours. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the tears that were once threatening to spill, now did. “It’s fine.” Your head was pounding. “It’s fine.” 

“I know it’s not,” He said softly. “But we can maybe do presents and lunch before I go,” He gestured towards the tree. “I should be back in time for the Grinch.” You were shaking a bit as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against his body. “I’m sorry baby.” He was so warm, a little sweaty from arguing, but warm. “I’ll make it up to you.” A soft whisper into your hair. 

The little gold box was soon opened, a new rose gold cartier bracelet slipped onto your wrist and Ransom left you and your sister the next day wearing the sweater you had so carefully knit for him. 

2021

Your breath hitched in your throat, back arching, a loud moan breaking from your lungs. How was he so good at this? Ransom’s tongue was at work between your thighs, large hands cradling your hips, burying his face in your moist heat. You were so close to cumming. And he knew it. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his face as you rode your orgasm until your body was too sensitive to continue, Ransom moving his attentions to press his lips sloppily against your thighs before making his way up your body. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he lamented as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, parting your thighs fully around his hips to tease your opening with the blunt head of his cock. “So fucking beautiful.” He moaned into your open mouth as he breeches you. 

He felt so fucking good. You’d never get over it, you were sure. Ransom was patient, biding his time. He wasn’t that guy who had to be as deep inside you as possible, chasing his orgasm by stabbing your cervix. Over time he mapped out the location of your g-spot, shifting his hips and cock to brush against the spot with every thrust, working you up and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Those girls screamed with good reason. Just as you did now. Gushing wet around him as you came for the second time, looking up wantonly into his flushed face, lips swollen from first kissing and then pulling you apart with his tongue. Your fingers curled in his chest hair as he picked up pace, chasing his own release now, your hips lifting off the bed to aid him.

“So fucking good baby,” His eyes screwed shut as he moans, arms trembling, “You fuck me so good baby.” He sat back on his haunches, pulling your hips roughly to his, your sensitive clit grinding against his pubic bone almost bringing you over again as he cums. Hips stuttering into yours as you feel him empty himself into you. 

His head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes dropping to find you, hands still gripping your hips and as much of your ass as he can manage. “I love you.” 

It never gets old. 

He said those words to you ever chance he got. It was as if he was trying to make up for a lifetime without it. Love. 

Early morning sleepy soft kisses, I love you.

Silent breakfast with your feet in his lap, I love you.

Scratching his back as you peered over his shoulder while he was writing, I love you. 

Feet stuffed under his thigh watching Outlander and drinking hot tea, I love you.

Buried deep inside you, panting mouths a breath apart, bodies flushed and sweaty, sheets damp with cum, I love you.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.” 

It was intense. His love for you.

He tried hard. He didn’t know how it was supposed to work. A real relationship, a real honest to god loving relationship. But he was trying. 

The first few months of the relationship you gained a lot of new jewelry, a new iPad, clothes, shoes. “You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me, Ransom.” 

Then came flowers and lots of them. Sometimes just one, sometimes a bouquet. Regardless there were multiple vases that stayed filled throughout the house, always with fresh flowers never given time to fully wilt. 

After that was the touching. Always some sort of physical contact. Whether you were cuddling on the couch or a blink away from sleep with his ankle wrapped around yours, if you were in a room together there was always some sort of contact. 

Your house arrest bracelet was removed, and a gold anklet replaced it. You were free to leave, live on your own. Move out and back into that shitty apartment with your sister, but this was early days in the newfound relationship with Ransom. 

He’d bought you a house. 

He’s paying for your sisters school.

He’s paying you to still work for him.

It was a Victorian. The house. Not at all like his contemporary cube he knew you despised. A rich dark brown with a large porch. Much too big for just you and your sister, so 6 months after the two of you moved in, Ransom sold his house and moved in too. 

Julia was warming up to him. At first she wasn’t a fan. It took a long time, many dinners with Ransom, ‘family outings’, you hoped she could see the way he treated you now. The way he’s kind of always treated you. Her love was easily bought with the new house, her latest generation iPhone and the fact that she now had a monthly allowance. It didn’t stop you from making her get an after school job at the school library though. 

Now with a house of your own, you were doing something you’d always dreamed of. Watching Ransom try to hang Christmas lights. 

“I’ll just pay someone to do it,” He offered, looking skeptically at the boxes you had placed on the dining room table, “I’m not going up there to do it.” 

But there he was, up there doing it while you looked up at him from the bottom of the ladder. “This is the fucking worst.” He exclaimed, taking the light clips and attaching them to the roof. “Why are we doing this?” 

“Because you love me and you want to make me happy.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, squinting against the sun. 

“I’m not so sure,” He attached a few more clips within reach before steadily climbing down the ladder. “I think you’re trying to kill me.” 

“I’m the beneficiary on your life insurance right?” You jokingly asked as his feet hit the ground. He laughed at your bad joke, 

“I think that’s in pretty poor taste, but…” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Yes.” 

“Julia should be home soon and then we can decorate the tree,” You wrapped your arms around his middle, capturing his lips with your own, “And make some cookies,” You kissed him again, 

“And have a drink.” He smirked against your lips. 

“You have a therapy appointment today,” You walked over to the steps, “You’re not having anything to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you once more, shooing you into the house as he re-positioned the ladder to go back up and finish stringing the lights. 

You had to be proud of him. Court mandated therapy ended when your house arrest did, but he still went every week. At first it was due to a little pushing by you, but eventually he made the appointments on his own. He was getting better. Still a dick, but that was his nature. He wasn’t quick to anger anymore, his emotions took a more level head. And he was now publishing books twice a year. He’s got five books out now, and almost 100 million copies sold. Which is incredible. 

You started back to school, Ransom wanting to start his own publishing company, “I’m paying for you to go to business school as an investment in our future.” He claimed. Once you were done with school your job would be to then help him open his own publishing company where you’d overlook everything. A daunting task, but it was hard not to believe in yourself when Ransom made himself your own personal cheerleader. “You’re brilliant,” He would say, “You’re so smart, you’ve just been dealt a bad hand until now.” 

And now he was stacking that hand to the best of his ability. 

Finals had been last week and you still marveled at the fact that as you poured over your last assignments and studying, Ransom would make you coffee and massage your shoulders whereas you would usually do the same for him as he was finishing a book. 

You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with him, the first time he’d invited you was strange and you didn’t know what would even be discussed, but as you sat in the session and he was finally completely bare to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was his idea and not his therapist’s. 

That session changed the dynamic between the two of you for sure. 

After the dam broke, the two of you having sex for the first time and Ransom’s admission of love it wasn’t easy. He was still an asshole and as someone who had never been in a relationship before, this first real relationship, he didn’t really know how to behave. 

You had one session a month together and it was probably one of the best ideas Ransom ever had. 

He was a little sullen when he came home later that night, coming to curl himself around you as you placed the cookies you and Julia had baked earlier into the decorative metal tins you had just bought. 

Sometimes it was like this, sadness. His lips gently pressing themselves against your cheek, his body tightly pressed against yours trying to pull as much comfort as he possibly could. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispered softly, “Not yet.” 

“Okay.” You knew what he needed and what he needed was a little bit of time. You offered him a cookie, chocolate and peanut butter, still warm. He took it gently from your fingers, pulling away to go to his study, but not before pulling you into a soft lingering kiss. An apology for what you knew would be a distant night. A ‘I don’t know when I’ll be coming to bed’ night. You were sure you’d have three new chapters to go over in the morning.

You loved the snow. Almost a foot of it had fallen overnight, frosting the windows and giving your home a beautiful Christmas glow. It made your home feel cozy and well slept as you stretched your limbs out, hand coming to run across Ransom’s back. So he did come to bed after all. You rolled over to face him, laying on his belly, arms folded under his pillow facing you. 

God he is beautiful. 

You hated it about him. So handsome. You brushed his fallen hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his scrunched brow. He was letting his beard grow out for the winter. It made him even more attractive, the bastard. 

Julia was just getting up for school, standing in the kitchen in her uniform, eating toast and facetiming a friend. She was in a carpool, this house you lived in, while comfortably distanced from others, was in a neighborhood of other kids that went to her same school. Something you’re sure Ransom took into account when buying this house in the first place. You drove the kids to school on Friday when you didn’t have any classes. Today was a different parent’s turn. 

“Can I take some of these to school?” She asked, picking up a tin of cookies. 

“Yeah, but take the red one.” You popped a k-cup into the keurig. “Those haven’t touched any nuts.” 

“Mila’s Mom said we can go to the mall after school to go get presents for the pollyanna our class is having, is that okay?” She was such a good kid. Getting older now, she was almost ready to learn how to drive, something you’d been dreading, but for whatever reason Ransom was really looking forward to. 

“You have money still?” You asked, preparing a second cup of coffee for the sleeping bear upstairs. 

“I mean,” She smirked, “Unless you want to give me more…?” You rolled your eyes, turning towards your younger sibling. 

“What time will you be home?” The car had just pulled up outside, horn letting out a quick ‘honk’ to let her know they were here. 

Julia shrugged, hugging you, “We might get dinner, but probably no later than 8. I’ll text you.” She shrugged her coat on, opening the front door as you called behind her, 

“Text me when you get to the mall and when you’re on your way home!” 

“Okay!” She yelled back, trudging through the snow to the car.

“Keep your location on!” You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you, 

“Okay!” Annoyed this time.

“I love you!” You shouted as she got in the car, slamming the door behind her. Your phone chimed with reply, 

love you too

With that you went to rouse the sleeping man upstairs. 

He groaned unhappily when you woke him up, but it was quickly soothed by the coffee you’d supplied him with. 

Christmas was quickly approaching. The first Christmas you’d be spending together as a real, honest to god, family. In your own home, ready to begin your own traditions. The house was beautifully decorated and almost always smelled like cookies and a Christmas movie or music was always playing in the background. 

There was a truly sweet moment you’d wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Julia rolling out cookie dough, Christmas music blaring obnoxiously loud and Ransom coming out from his study yelling, 

“I can’t write anything in a house this loud!” Walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a soft ambling. Your sister and you looking at him and laughing, the red faced lumberjack quickly losing steam as he realized he was wearing the hideous Christmas sweater you’d jokingly bought him last year. “It’s the warmest sweater I own.” He claimed. Sure. Sure it is. 

He turned the music back up a little louder, coming to a happy medium. His embarrassment waning as he looked at the two of you in the kitchen. A family that didn’t argue with every other word. People who genuinely loved each other. Something he never knew he wanted or needed. He came over to you, gently clasping your hands before tugging you into his body to ridiculously dance around to Jingle Bell Rock. The three of you peeling with laughter. Was this even real life anymore? With a soft parting kiss and a peak over your sisters shoulder to steal some cookie dough he was reluctantly walking back to his study, coming to join you twenty minutes later after finishing the chapter he’d been working on all day. 

The three of you spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching the cheesy A Christmas Prince series on Netflix and eating what was sure your body weight in popcorn. Cozy with your little family. 

“Do you think she’d like a puppy?” Ransom whispered into your neck one night. 

“Do not.” You were close to sleep, just about to drift off, when his question stirred you awake. 

“I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, fingers gently tugging your nipple. 

“I’ll be the one taking care of it,” You whimpered as his other hand sunk between your thighs, “Do not get her a puppy.” His lips met your shoulder and you turned in his arms, thighs parting as he lightly stroked your clit. 

“You’ll get there.” He pressed his lips against yours, teasing your entrance with his fingers, his now hard cock nudging against your thigh. “You’ll warm up to the idea.” 

“No…” You whined, his fingers beginning to stroke your g-spot, his body coming to lay over yours, his eyes half lidded and lips wet and red came to meet yours as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. “Fuck.” His fingers laced themselves through yours, pressing your hands against the sheets as he began to rock his hips slowly into yours. 

“You’re so sweet on me baby,” He mouthed against your lips, “So sweet on us.” He moaned. Your hips ground against his with every thrust. This slow love making that was making you gush around him, pussy making obscene sounds with every tilt of his hips, gently brushing the parts of you that make your legs shake. He chest close to yours, the begging in his eyes, 

“You’ll be such a good mother,” His hips met yours a little harder on that one causing you to gasp, pussy clenching around him. “Gonna give me what I want for Christmas?” He asked. He did this sometimes, knowing you were still on birth control and the actual relationship was still relatively new, the two of you had been together for almost a year now, you knew that he’d been toying with the idea of having a baby. You’d talked about it in therapy recently. 

“I love you,” He moaned, his hips build up a little speed as your legs came to wrap high around his waist. “I can’t wait,” He groaned, “So good to me.” His lips capturing yours passionately as his hips stalled, grinding himself against your g-spot, pubic bone rubbing your clit as you found your orgasm, pussy gushing wet dripping down his thighs onto the bed as you moaned into his mouth. 

“You’ll be such a good mother baby, such a good fucking mother.” His hips picked back up in pace, “I’d do anything for you baby. Anything.” He was chasing his release now, thrusting against your sensitive clit making you reel again before releasing your hands and grabbing your thighs, pushing them back high against the bed, just making you take it. You both had to try to be quiet here, your sister on the floor above you, your hand covered your mouth as you tried to muffle the loud obnoxious squealing that came uncontrollably as his hips slapped against your ass in this position. Sweat forming on his brow and head thrown back as he groans through his teeth, feeling him empty his seed deep against your cervix. 

In all the years you’d known him Ransom was never a kid person. He didn’t like small children, but he also didn’t come into contact with them often which is why it was so strange two months ago when he originally brought up the idea. “I think we would make pretty okay parents,” He said, “Better than mine definitely.” It made your heart flutter, thinking of a life with him. Knowing that he was also thinking about a life with you, but it’s just not the right time. 

What wasn’t surprising about any of this was on Christmas morning, after breakfast and the exchanging of handmade sweaters, new books to read, a couple new apple watches, and your sister and you receiving matching earrings, a gorgeous little blue nose pit bull puppy, one that reminded you of your childhood dog was brought out with a little pink bow around its neck. Ransom ignored your glare as he handed the sweet little thing to your sister, who was crying in happiness. 

He would remind you later on that he found you cooing to the sweet little thing only a few minutes after that, the puppy curled up in your arms, licking your fingers in earnest. 

“Don’t you have something else?” Julia asked him. 

“Julia this is plenty,” You scolded, “He’s gotten you enough.” She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not for me.” She laughed. The little puppy sleeping in her arms and you scratched it behind it’s ears, turning to Ransom who shifted nervously to one knee, a ring box open in his hand. 

“Stop it.” Came out from a very watery smile. He licked his lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth before starting, 

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” 

.

.

.

TAGLIST //

@littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia​ @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @deidrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah​ @sleepycvpid​ @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @starlywars​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @rocknbasil​ @imnotelasticheart​ @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d​ @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa​  @bookish-shristi​ @auroussss​

[mush-dooms]

harry x ginny, 13 (if you’re actually taking prompts from that list haha. if not, ignore me)

13) This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…

“Arthur! Arthur! ARTHUR!” Molly boomed from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, love?” a frazzled Arthur answered, attempting to tie his tie with one hand as he combed through what little hair he had left with the other.

“You are GOING to be LATE!” Molly flung a dishtowel in his general direction and turned, finally noticing Harry standing in the doorway. She instantly smiled.

“Harry, love, did you sleep well? Bloody goblin was making quite the ruckus last night, I keep telling the boys to do something about the thing. Breakfast?”

Molly piled eggs and sausage high on Harry’s plate. Ron and Ginny soon wandered in, guided by their noses. “Ron, darling, I need you to take care of the gnomes today. Your father got bit quite badly the other day, far too feisty they are.”

“I’ll help,” Harry volunteered.

“Merhfoo,” Ginny sputtered through a mouthful of eggs, choked, and finally coughed, her face turning beet red. “I, uh, I can help too.” Ginny usually preferred to spend time with Hermione or visiting Luna instead of helping with the chores, but Harry wasn’t complaining. There was something about the way her hair shined in the morning light, how her brown eyes has little specks of gold in them, how she throws her head back when she laughs...

“HARRY!” Harry started, realizing he had been staring. “Where you at, mate? I said, want to do it straight after breakfast?” Ron half smiled, clearly amused.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, after breakfast sounds good.” Harry felt his cheeks turning red and he suddenly found his eggs very interesting.

. . .

“Right Harry, you remember how this is done?” Ron asked as they watched a gnome stick its tongue out at them from under a bush.

“You’ve got to swing ‘em around real good--oof -- before you let go-- hold STILL you little-- or else they come back,” he continued as he tackled a large gnome. Ron grabbed the potato-shaped creature by the legs and swung it around his head like a lasso, flinging it over the garden wall. The gnome landed with a grunt and confusedly stumbled around in circles, disoriented.

Harry leapt onto the nearest gnome and copied Ron’s motions, swinging it around his head.

“Shit!” He yelled as he let go of the gnome prematurely, sending it flying at Ron where it promptly latched its teeth around his arm.

“OW, FUCK!” Ron shook his arm wildly trying to dislodge the gnome.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU LITTLE FUCK, THAT BLOODY HURTS!” Ginny grabbed onto the creature’s legs and gave it a hard yank, sending it flying into the Burrow’s back wall and knocking it unconscious.

“Shit, ow, Harry, why’d you have to do that,” Ron frowned at his best friend. Ginny grabbed Ron’s arm, taking a closer look at the bite marks.

“Better go inside and let Mum look at it, gnome bites can get nasty.”

“Bloody hell, that fucker,” Ron muttered as he turned and headed back inside.

Harry couldn’t help but notice he was alone with Ginny now.

. . .

The morning passed in a blur of sunlight and dew melting away and brown eyes and the sound of Ginny’s laugh. The gnomes were long gone, stumbling outside the garden, but still Ginny remained. Harry felt himself glowing, a soft smile on his lips. He had never been so entranced by someone before.

“Hey dumbass!” Harry shook out of his thoughts and turned to be greeted with a bucket of water splashing over his head. He sputtered, shocked, flinging water out of his eyes.

“You’re gonna pay for that one, Gin!” She laughed and dodged the spray as Harry shook his hair at her.

Harry and Ginny’s eyes met as they both locked eyes on the garden hose on the other end of the garden.

“Oh no you won’t!” Harry sprinted for the hose right as Ginny took off from beside him. Faster, faster, almost there-- whoomph. Harry felt the air leave his lungs as Ginny tackled him from behind and they rolled down the small incline. Harry found himself with Ginny leaning over him, their faces nearly touching, her hands in the grass next to his shoulders. He could feel her breath on his damp skin, her hair grazing his neck.

“Hey Harry,” Ginny growled, a mischievous look in her eyes as she pulled the hose off the wall above them and squirted him in the face. Harry couldn’t seem to catch his breath, and he didn’t think it was because of the fall.

. . .

“Wanna go for a walk?” Ginny asked later that afternoon. “We can bring food for dinner, play some quidditch, you know.”

“Hmfurgh,” Harry stumbled over his words. “Sorry, I mean, uh, sure, I’d like that,” Harry said, his heart skipping a beat and his face flushing pink. Why did Ron’s sister turn him into a blubbering idiot? He must just be shy around her, which made little sense considering they practically grew up together. He needed to work on that.

. . .

The afternoon was bright and warm, a cool breeze floating through the hills bringing welcome relief from the summer heat. The hills rolled on for miles, covered in a blanket of green grass and wildflowers, patches of trees speckled along the horizon. They made their way towards one of the wooded areas where a small but worn path led to a grassy clearing.

“The boys used to play quidditch over there. Never invited me, those dickheads, but I learned on my own. Luna would come over and throw the quaffle for me.”

Harry smiled, picturing a tiny Ginny wooshing around the clearing as little Luna tossed the ball up at her.

They played for a while, not keeping score, just tossing the beat-up quaffle around and trying to get the other to miss. If anyone had been listening, they would only have heard the sounds of laughter and taunts ringing out across the trees.

Time flew by, and soon the sun began dropping lower in the sky, painting the clouds orange and red.

“I’m starving, why don’t we have dinner? I know a spot,” Ginny finally suggested, wiping the sweat from her brow. Merlin, even drenched in sweat she was beautiful. Harry followed her into the woods along a path only visible to her.

Harry heard the brook before he saw it, the water gurgling as it tumbled over worn stones and the silencing of frogs signaling their arrival. A willow tree draped its branches low, covering a ring of logs on that sat on the mossy ground.

“We got mum to charm it ages ago against the bugs, hopefully its still holding up. Haven’t been back here in ages.” Ginny pushed the drooping branches out of her way, stepping through the leafy curtain. “Shame neither of us are seventeen.”

Ginny sat on the end of the log, clearly leaving space for Harry to sit next to her. How odd; there were plenty of other places to sit. Harry shrugged to himself and settled next to her, their legs brushing together. The leaves cast shadows over her freckled face that seemed to radiate light when she smiled. Her hair was messy and tangled from their game earlier, but it still shined in the evening’s remaining light. And her lips, pink and smooth, were probably so soft...

Ginny’s laughter jolted him back to the present. “Never mind then, guess you’re too busy checking me out,” she gave him a smile and elbowed him in the ribs. Harry felt himself blushing again. What was it about her that had him making a fool of himself? She reached around him for the basket of food, and he felt a chill rise where her arm brushed against his back.

. . .

“What time do you think it is?” Ginny yawned and placed her head on Harry’s shoulder. They were still sitting under the willow tree, having been talking and laughing for hours.

“I’m not sure,” Harry answered, and he found himself running his fingers through her hair. Ginny wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leaning into him. He could feel her warmth through his t-shirt.

“I’ve always loved when people played with my hair,” she said quietly. “It’s so ro...” she caught herself and left the word hanging in the air. A pause.

It was all making sense now. With Cho, things felt so different. It was more sudden, unmistakable for what it was. But with her... it was gentle, yearning, a subtle need for closeness.

Harry took a deep breath. “I think so, too.”

He turned so that their faces were inches apart. He could count every one of her freckles.

Harry wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but suddenly their lips were meeting and it felt like nothing Harry had ever experienced. Like lighting a bonfire, or striking a match, like summer sunshine and breathless running and the moment before a dive toward the snitch on his broom. Adrenaline coursed through him, and they were passionate, desperate now. He never expected his day would have led to this.

“This wasn’t meant to be a date, you know,” Harry said, finally breaking free.

“Oh, bullshit,” Ginny replied, their lips smashing together again. “What else could it have possibly been.” It was a statement more than a question, and she smiled, slowly pulling away.

“I’ve had a crush on you since your first year,” she finally admitted. “Well, not the entire time. But a lot of it.” She hadn’t let go of his shoulders.

Harry struggled to find words, finally settling on “I think I’ve liked you for ages, too.”

Ginny snorted. “Seems we’re both idiots, then.” Harry laughed, and Ginny rested her head on his shoulder again. This time, Harry turned and kissed the top of her head, running one hand down her back.

“Harry?”

“Mmm.”

“Let’s stay out here forever.”

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Christmas Promises

Pairing:  Bakugou x Koge (OC) Genre: Fluff / Romance / Humor Rating: Teen Warnings: Cursing, kissing, cuddling a/n: Why am I writing something about Christmas when it’s.... not Christmas?? Because I started this when the Christmas chapter came out, and I just now finished it, but I’m gonna post it anyways. So enjoy lol. 

Finally, it was over. 

Although that tired relief flooded through Bakugou as he trekked up the stairs to his dorm room floor, he did have to admit that the whole Christmas party wasn’t as horrible as it could have been. He had been annoyed that his multiple attempts to flee had been thwarted, as did his wanting to not wear the stupid Santa coat and hat. Though, it was of little consequence, as the good food and semi enjoyable company had kept him in a decent mood. All in all, not quite what he had been anticipating, but it did still have one major flaw. 

He hadn’t been able to include his stupid blank-faced girlfriend in the festivities, as each class for UA was having their own party with their classmates. She wasn’t allowed to jump ship and join him instead, and he found himself thinking about her often. It wasn’t just him that was bummed out at her absence, as she had thrown a bit of a pouty fit herself when she couldn’t join him. Now it was very late, and with the presence of Aizawa in the building, he doubted that he would get to see her until morning. Sure, they could exchange gifts then and have their own time together, but he knew very well that she wouldn’t have the patience for that. 

Bakugou highly anticipated that his cell phone, which he had left in his bedroom, was full of messages or pictures from her. Unlike him, she absolutely loved Christmas, and he was sure that she enjoyed herself even if he wasn’t there. She had already gone on and on about how fun it was to decorate their dorm common room, and even her dorm room looked like it threw up Christmas. He could hardly stand to be in there from the overwhelming scent of peppermint and whatever other stupid candle scents she had going, but he did have to admit that seeing her so excited made him… happy. 

They had only been dating since Summer, which sat them at a little over five months now, but he had been friends with her since they were children. He had always known she was obsessed with holidays, Christmas in particular, but she seemed extra excited about it now that they were dating. It was the intimacy, he assumed, that had her so soft and warm, and besides her decorating obsession, he couldn’t complain. He was positive that she would complain herself, however, when she saw the pictures of him in this stupid Santa coat and hat, when he had viciously refused to wear anything similar even for her. They would have to vanish before she saw them for sure, or he knew he’d be subjected to more nonsense. Though forcing her to wear it wasn’t a bad idea, either… 

Giving a hefty yawn as he stopped in front of his dorm room door, Bakugou took a moment to rub the back of his neck, the white fluff of the coat tickling his skin. With the thought of sleep foremost in his mind, he opened the door and walked inside, letting it shut behind him and shower him in darkness. It soothed his tired eyes, and in that moment, he decided that he didn’t even care about changing or even taking off the coat. Removing his slippers as he shuffled over to his bed, he crawled onto the plush comfort before flopping down onto his side, facing out towards the open room with his back to the wall. 

Although he knew that he should look at his phone, the mattress began to swallow him, his body heavy with sleep. That is, until he felt… something. A soft, warm breeze on his face, like someone was… breathing on him? Other things began to creep up on him, like the feeling of a body beside him and even the sheets moving with each breath that was made. Holding his own breath, he opened his eyes, glancing about in the darkness to try and see who was there with him. The instant he noticed the shuffling of the black blob beside him, Bakugou didn’t even take a moment to think about who it might be, shoving them out of his bed roughly before sitting up and pressing his back to the wall beside him. “What the fuck?!”

The squeal that filled the air was familiar, Bakugou’s stomach instantly clenching in a confusing mix of worry and annoyance. “Utsuro?! What the fuck!” Fumbling over his bed, he snapped on the lamp that rested on his nightstand, glaring down at the lump on his floor. “I could have fucking killed you! What are you doing here?!” 

With a groan, Koge, rolled over onto her back, reaching up to rub the side of her head that had impacted with the floor. “I wanted to surprise you, Katsuki, but I didn’t think you’d come to bed without turning the light on first!” Pout on her lips, she propped herself up on her arms, glowering up at him with that pale blue gaze he adored. “I just wanted to come visit you on Christmas Eve… So I snuck in while you were all cleaning.” 

“It’s not Christmas Eve anymore Utsuro, it’s Christmas Day now… technically.” He glanced at his clock, which glared at him in its bright green color that only made the late night hour more irritating. “You shouldn’t have snuck in, Aizawa’s still up and about in the main room.” 

“He’s about to leave, I know little Eri needs to go to bed.” With a sigh, she hopped up onto her feet, adjusting her t-shirt and sweatpants that had gotten jumbled in her fall. Bakugou noted that those were actually his sweatpants that she somehow got to fit decently, and that she had helped herself to out of his dresser. 

“You stole my clothes. Again.” 

“I did.” Koge lifted a leg out in front of her, displaying the pants that she had rolled up to fit around her ankle. “I was cold when I got here, my little pajamas weren’t enough. Aren’t you gonna apologize for shoving me to the floor?” 

“Me? Apologize to you?” Bakugou scoffed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You, who snuck into my room with the intent to scare me in the first place?” He took her hands as she approached him, standing between his legs. 

Koge gave a small shake of her head, smiling at him sweetly, bringing a heat to his ears. “Not true, I hadn’t come to scare you, I just wanted to surprise you when you came in. Surprise and scare are two different things.” 

With a soft grunt in reluctant agreement, Bakugou released her hands to instead wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. Caressing his cheeks tenderly, Koge placed a soft kiss on his lips, which Bakugou returned without hesitation. He may have been annoyed with her little attempt at a prank or whatever it was, but he couldn’t resist her. It had been hard on him at first, to go from best friends to lovers, but now he couldn’t imagine it any other way. The way she looked at him with such sweet adoration and her touch as soft as silk was something that he never wanted to lose, even if he couldn’t find it within himself to tell her such things. At least, not yet. 

When the kiss ended, he glanced over her for a second. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No, Katsuki, I’m okay. But there’s something else I’m more concerned about right now.” 

“What’s that?” 

“How the hell did they get you to wear a Santa coat when I couldn’t?!” 

With a roll of his eyes, Bakugou gave an annoyed groan and shoved his face into her chest, squeezing her body tightly in punishment for bringing it up. “They wouldn’t leave me alone! If I wanted a moment of peace, I had to do it… It’s not like I enjoy it!” 

Koge giggled softly, only making the heat in Bakugou’s ears spread to his cheeks. “Aw, but it looks good on you. You have a hat, too?” 

Reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants, Bakugou pulled out the matching hat, letting her take it before latching his arm back around her. He couldn’t stop an annoyed growl as she wiggled it onto his head, though he didn’t try to stop her. “I don’t want it.” 

“No c’mon, let me see it! Please.” She gave a light push to his shoulders, trying to get him to sit up. “I deserve at least a little peek at how cute you are. If your whole class gets to see it, then I do, too.” 

With a hefty groan in annoyance, Bakugou peeled himself away from her, glaring up at her flushed and smiling face. The smile on Koge’s lips only grew, adjusting the hat to fit him better. “Adorable. My little Santa Katsuki.” 

“If you keep this up I’m turning into Krampus.” 

Giggling, Koge shifted herself up to sit on his lap, facing him. “Ooh, so you’ll just steal me away, huh?” 

Bakugou took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist, keeping her body close. “Damn right. You’d be easy to stuff in a sack.” He trailed kisses along her neck softly, her sweet sigh making his stomach flutter. 

“And then what would you do to me?” 

Smirking against her skin, he moved his hands to her ribs. “Eat you.” With that, he chomped down on a ticklish part of her neck while squeezing her ribs, making Koge squeal and erupt with laughter. As she tried to escape, he used his grip on her to scoop her up, playfully slamming her down onto the bed beneath him. With her arms latched around him, he couldn’t help but to kiss her, muffling her giggles with a final surprised squeak from her lips. He could easily get lost in her touch, and he surely would have, if not for the voice that rang from his dorm room entrance. 

“Hey Bakugou, we’re gonna stay up later and watch some scary Christmas movies, you wanna-- oh shit!” 

The sound of Kaminari’s voice made Koge jump, knocking her forehead into Bakugou’s and forcing him to release her with a hiss. Before he could even snap back, the door was shut and Kaminari could be heard whining about his eyes being on fire and how they should lock the door. Kirishima and Ashido could be heard cackling down the hallway, which only made the fire in Bakugou’s cheeks flush hotter, his passion now replaced with anger. 

“Fucking dickheads, don’t they know how to knock?! I need to kick their asses--” Before he could get up, Koge latched onto the front of his shirt with a strong grip gaining his attention. Although her cheeks were bright red, she shook her head, pout on her lips. 

“No, you stay here. They’ve gotten to have you around all night, now it’s my turn.” Koge wrapped her arms around him again as he settled back against her comfortably. After sharing another kiss, Bakugou shoved his face into her shoulder, still struggling with the embarrassment of being caught. “Someone’s selfish.” 

“When it comes to you, Katsuki, I’ll be as selfish as I want. I want all your attention.” 

“Sounds like eventually you’ll have me tied up in the basement.” 

Koge gave a playful, menacing laugh, digging her fingers into his hair to massage his scalp. “Oh yes, you will be my prisoner for life. You’ll cook me dinner every night, rub my feet and tell me you love me.” 

“Sounds more like marriage.” 

“Exactly.” 

Bakugou scoffed, pulling himself from her before standing. “Who said I’m gonna marry you?” 

“Me.” Koge smiled up at him, instantly making his face flush again. Bakugou hated how she could do that, making him a flushing mess just by putting a smile on her face. Most of the time, he didn’t know how to process or even understand the way she made him feel. The emotions and feelings were so foreign to him that they still baffled him, but how could he talk to her about it? He knew that she wouldn’t make fun of him, but she very well may not know how to explain it either. In time, he figured, they would start to make sense, and he was willing to wait to see where they would lead him. 

Grumbling, Bakugou made his way over to her bag that rested by his desk, squatting down to dig through it. Koge sat up when she realized what he was doing, standing and hopping over to him. “Ah no, Katsuki, you can’t just go through my bag! What are you doing?!” As she leaned on his back with her arms around his neck, Bakugou ignored her demands to stop, pulling out a gift bag and a wrapped up box. 

“I knew you had presents in here for me.” 

“Rude! You can’t just demand your presents.” She huffed as she was forced to sit on the floor as Bakugou did, already ripping the paper off of the wrapped up box. Koge nuzzled her face into his back between his shoulder blades, squeezing his torso with no real consequence. “You’re supposed to let me give them to you!” 

“No, I’m Krampus. I’m just going to fucking steal the presents. Or is that the Grinch? What the fuck ever. Oh shit, these are nice, what are they?” 

“Hm?” Koge wiggled herself over to sit beside him, though she never released her grip. “Oh, they are specially made gloves for drummers. Though they are extra special for you. They have the normal ability hold sweat, but even better, they work to counteract your nitroglycerin. So not only do you not sweat, but it makes it had for explosions to happen. They’re basically the opposite of your hero costume gloves.” Koge took one from his hand, feeling the soft orange fabric and observing the details. “Ever since the culture festival, you’ve gotten back into drums, and I thought you could use a good pair.” 

Bakugou tried one on his left hand, testing the fit and flexibility by clenching and opening his fist. “Pretty good, Utsuro. They’re fucking awesome.” As he removed the glove and placed them both back into their package carefully, Koge smiled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. 

“You’re welcome.” 

With a quick kiss to the top of her head, he moved on to the bag, tossing the paper out of it haphazardly. When he finally noticed the items, he first leaned over a bit, looking into the bag with confusion. “The fuck are these, CDs?” 

“Hey! They’re collectors editions, butthead.” 

“Hm.” Pulling them out, Bakugou flipped through the cases. “These are good bands… And these are hard versions to find. Where’d you get them?” 

Koge shook her head, sly smile on her lips. “I’m not telling. Then you’d know where I buy a bunch of your gifts and you’d be able to get them first yourself.” 

“That has to be a good fucking website then or whatever, these are rare and in like… perfect condition.” He opened one of the cases, observing the disk inside. “No scratches, either. I don’t know if I’d ever use them, but they’re cool to have and brag about.” 

“You like them?” 

“They’re awesome.” Bakugou kissed her softly, calming the obvious worry she had that he didn’t appreciate them. “Shitty Hair will be jealous.” 

Koge giggled as she watched him set them aside, before going back to digging through her bag. “Wrong pocket, big guy.” 

With a grunt, Bakugou opened the front pocket, pulling out a smaller rectangular box that wasn’t wrapped. After sharing a quick glance with her, he could see the true excitement and anticipation in her eyes, giving him a hint that this was the most important gift out of the bunch. Turning to face her, he opened the box, a bit surprised at what was inside. A silver thick chain metal bracelet, which was chunky and decently heavy from the feel of the box. What caught his attention at first, though, was the long rectangular metal plate, which hate two clear stones - diamonds, he assumed - on either end. There was nothing engraved on it, which baffled him even more, prompting him to take it out of the box. 

As he looked it over, Koge timidly reached over and touched the metal plate. “It’s blank right now because… Well, you don’t have a hero name yet. But when you do, we’ll get it engraved. Like you did for me.” Bakugou’s gaze followed her hand as he reached up to tenderly touch her necklace, the silver plate resting delicately under the curve of her collarbone. The petite diamond that hung from the metal plate shimmered in the low light, the necklace striking against her pale skin. He had just given it to her for her birthday a little over a month ago, and he hadn’t seen her without it on since. Crystalline was the word engraved on the front, something that was so important to her and showed just how far she had come. It was a sentimental gift that he had been worried about giving to her, but after seeing how emotional it made her and how much she adored it, he wasn’t surprised that she would come back to him with something just as touching. 

Flipping the plate over on his new bracelet, there was already an engraving on it, which matched the back of her necklace. Two capital K’s, separated by a heart. Running his thumb along the engraving, he couldn’t resist the small smile on his lips. “You’re such a copycat, Utsuro.” Pushing up his Santa coat sleeve, he plopped the bracelet into her hands, prompting her to tenderly put it on his wrist. 

“I wanted us to have something that matches… do you not like that?” 

“Would I want you to put it on me if I didn’t like it, Utsuro?” After she got it in place, he reached up to caress both of her cheeks, leaning forward to kiss her sweetly. It was quick to grow more passionate with his excitement of the gift, allowing her to wiggle her way up and onto his lap facing him. When the kiss calmed, he carefully moved some hair out of her face, smirking against her lips at the flushed and happy expression on her fair features. “It’s perfect. Cheesy as shit, but perfect. Thank you. For all of it.” 

Koge’s face somehow flushed darker, smiling as she shyly played with a lock of his hair, twisting it around her fingers. “You’re welcome. I’m so happy that you liked everything.” 

“Just don’t get all sad if you don’t see me wearing this as often as you wear the necklace.” 

“I know, I know. I won’t, Katsuki. But, I did make sure it’s strong enough to withstand one of your explosions. So if you’re wearing it on a casual day and there’s an emergency… It won’t go anywhere.” Koge moved her fingers down to his neck, softly massaging his skin. “It should be very durable.” 

“Good. You think of everything. Even if you are an airhead.” 

“I’m only an airhead when you kiss me and take my breath away.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Bakugou gave her a rough and playful kiss, tightening his grip on her and standing. Giggling, Koge kept a tight grip on him, though she let go when he placed her down on the bed. “Time for bed, now?” 

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at her, kneeling down and opening up a drawer in his bed frame that he used as storage. “Don’t you want your gifts?” 

“Mine? Oh- Geez, Katsuki, that’s so many!” Koge gave a small gasp as she looked into the drawer, counting at least fifteen gifts all varying in size and style of packaging. “Now I feel bad, I didn’t get you this much!” 

“Don’t feel bad Utsuro, you’re not getting all these right now.” 

“Oh.” Koge leaned over, trying to see them all. “Well why not?” 

“These are all things that I have for you, but couldn’t ever… figure out when would be best to give them to you. So tonight, you get to pick three.” 

“Why only three?” “Because I only got three.” 

“That’s not how Christmas works!” Koge flopped to lay down, half of her body hanging off the bed as she pouted. 

“You’ll get all of them eventually, just shut up and pick.” 

Grumbling, Koge peered down at the gifts, trying to gauge what each one might be according to its size and wrapping. After a moment of contemplation, she pointed to a flat rectangle box, wiggling her finger a bit. “That one. That’s gotta be clothes.” 

Picking it up, Bakugou handed it up to her, satisfied with her first choice. Though, he did grow a bit annoyed as she first observed the wrapping, like she was scared to rip it. “Go on, what are you doing?” 

“If you were planning on giving everything to me, then why did you wrap them all so perfect? Wasn’t that a waste of your time?” 

“Nothing’s a waste of time if it’s for you Utsuro. Besides, I had Kirishima and Nene help me do it. Can’t you tell some of them are overly done with Nene’s stupid artsy bullshit?” He flicked a curly ribbon that was placed on the top of a different box, which was indeed very fancy compared to some of the others. Koge smiled as she sat up, digging her fingers into an edge and pulling the paper away. 

“You’re sweet. You did pretty neutral wrapping at least, so you can just leave them all wrapped.” 

“Exactly.”

As Koge opened the box, she instantly burst out into giggles, picking up the shirt and holding it out from her a bit to observe it better. “It says my name on it!” Well, it didn’t exactly say her name. The shirt was a pale blue cropped long sleeve top, with the word ‘Utsuro’ across the chest in white letters, both with actual letters and the kanji spelling of it. “It’s so soft and cute! I love the fabric- Oh, shorts, too?!” As she peered back into the box, a pair of shorts and sweat pants were waiting for her. Both pieces of clothing white in color, the word ‘Utsuro’ was across the butt of the shorts, and down the front left leg of the sweatpants in blue text that matched the shirt. “You custom made these?!” 

“Mhm.” Bakugou nodded, watching her closely. “They were having a buy two things get one free so… Bonus shorts.” 

“Thank you, Katsuki, it’s so awesome and funny. I love them.” Folding the clothing back up and leaving it in the box, she pushed it aside for now, turning her attention back to the pile of gifts. “Next… that little purple bag?” As Bakugou handed it to her, he couldn’t help but feel confused as to what was in it. For some reason, he couldn’t remember, and he could only hope that it wasn’t something particularly important. 

As Koge took the white paper out, she first stared down into the bag with confusion apparent on her face. “Katsuki…?” 

“What? Is it empty? I don’t even remember what was in that one--” He choked on his own words as Koge pulled out the small black ring box that was inside, nearly sending himself into a coughing fit. “W-wait, Utsuro, don’t open it!” 

Koge held the small box tenderly to her chest, looking down at him instead as her brow furrowed. “It’s a ring? Katsuki--” 

“It’s not anything that important! Fuck, they weren’t supposed to wrap that one. Damn it!” He moved to sit beside her, trying to control his urge to just rip it out of her hands and hide it. “You’re not… I wasn’t ready to give that to you.” 

He knew that the panic was clear on his face, but he couldn’t help it. That ring was important. It was a promise ring that he had bought for her in plans on giving it to her either on their first anniversary. Or maybe their second? On her birthday? He didn’t know when or how he wanted to give it to her, but this was something he wasn’t ready for. Not because he didn’t feel that strongly for her, but because he thought it was too soon. He had bought it on impulse in the first place, and giving it to her within the next year wasn’t something he had been prepared for. Now it was in her hands, and he wasn’t sure he was going to be getting it back. 

“You weren’t… ready?” Koge turned her gaze back down to the box, running her fingers along the velvet surface carefully. “You know I don’t wear jewelry unless it’s important, so it has to be… No way it’s a wedding ring--” 

“Don’t try to guess Utsuro, seriously.” Bakugou held his hand out, hoping she would hand it over. “Just… Just give it to me, okay? It won’t be the last time you see it. When you do get it, it will… mean much more than it does now.” 

Looking back up at him with a bit of confused concern, Koge placed the box into his hand, though her reluctance was obvious. How much she wanted it was clear, but how could he possibly give it to her now? He had no speech planned, no cute date or romantic evening to go off of. It was just them, in their pajamas during the middle of the night with not another soul around them. But maybe… that is exactly how it should be. 

Clutching the box tightly in his hand, Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, glaring down at it. He wanted more than anything for her to have it, to see her wearing it proudly just as she did her necklace. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about how happy she would be to receive such a sentimental expression of how much he cared for her. But again, the thought crept up in the back of his mind… What if it’s too soon? 

He knew that his thoughts of ‘too soon’ were set by society's standards of what was acceptable. Even still, there was no one in the world who knew the way they felt about each other. Not even Nene or Kirishima could understand it. Their connection that was built over a lifetime of bonding, and this was merely a promise that he wouldn’t hurt her. 

After a moment of sitting in awkward silence, Bakugou shook his head, turning a bit to face her. “Look… I thought that maybe I should of planned this better. A fucking fancy date or a… I don’t know, I’m not good at this.” 

“Katsuki…” Koge reached up and caressed his cheeks, pulling his crimson glare off the box to instead look at her. “I don’t need all those things. All I need is you… You know that. If there’s something you want to do or say to me, you don’t have to wait. If you want to wait, then that’s fine. I’d wait an eternity for you…” Leaning up, she kissed him with such a tender and loving passion that Bakugou was sure his heart was going to melt. How was she able to do this to him? How had she wormed her way beneath his skin, to set fire to his soul? Nothing had ever been as important as his goals to become top hero, and yet, there she was, teetering at the top. If she truly meant this much to him, then there was no reason why he shouldn’t give her the ring. 

When she pulled away, they sat in silence, foreheads pressed together in a tender moment that didn’t need words. Finding his strength, Bakugou reached up and took one of her hands gently, bringing it down a bit to place the small black box on her palm. With the return of the gift, Koge’s face flushed as she looked down at it, obviously contemplating if she should accept it or not. 

“It’s… It’s a promise ring?” 

“Yes.” 

Smile crossing her lips, Koge scooted closer to Bakugou, leaning her body against his as he put an arm around her back. Resting her head against his chest, she observed the little black box for just a moment longer before slowly opening it. The small gasp that escaped her lips instantly made Bakugou’s stomach clench, unable to see her face to gage her reaction. Tenderly, Koge removed the ring from the box, holding it up closer to see every detail. In truth, it was very simple, just a silver band with four embedded stones, alternating with two clear and two aquamarine which very closely matched the color of her eyes. With a sniffle, she checked to see if it had the typical engraving, which it did. 

“It’s so beautiful, Katsuki. I don’t think it’s too soon for this at all… I love it. But, uhm…” Koge turned her teary gaze to look up at him, the softness of her expression making his ears flush hot. “You’re supposed to wear it on your left ring finger. That doesn’t bother you?” 

“No, Utsuro. I’m sure that there will be fuckheads that ask if I proposed to you already or some shit, but they can just fuck off.” He took the ring from her, carefully slipping it onto the finger in question. Much to his relief, it fit perfectly. “Just… never forget what it stands for. No matter what.” 

“You mean, no matter how much of a brat you are?” She kissed his cheek sweetly, making his face flush as he grumbled in annoyance. “Or how much you pick on me.” 

“Exactly.” He gripped both cheeks with one hand, squishing them together to make Koge burst out in giggles. “Because you’re my stupid Utsuro. Now stop being so fucking cheesy. You want your last gift?” 

Forcing one last kiss from him, Koge scooted back over closer to the pile of gifts as Bakugou stood. “Yes! Gimme that big one. No not the bag, the big flat one.” Wide grin on her face, she took the present as it was handed towards her, though she fumbled it a bit when she wasn’t quite ready for the weight of it. “Oh geez, it’s a little heavy.” 

“If you break that I’m going to kill you, Utsuro.” Bakugou glowered up at her as he shut the drawer that the presents rested in, set on only giving her the three for now. Placing the gift on her lap, Koge carefully removed the wrapping, though the loud gasp that escaped her lips was surely powerful enough to wake every person in the dorms. 

“Holy shit, Katsuki, this is the laptop I wanted!! I can’t believe you got this for me!”

“It’s all you complain about, with your other computer in the shitter, so no fucking shit I got it for you just to make you shut up.” 

“It’s even the blue color I like! And you remembered all the specs, too. This one’s even better, though! You’re the best boyfriend in world.” 

“Just the world?” Bakugou came to stand in front of her, prompting Koge to put her gift aside and wrap her arms around his hips. She couldn’t resist smiling up at him, her chin resting on his stomach as he softly ran his fingers through her hair. 

“No, Katsuki. The entire universe. And you’re all mine. Merry Christmas, babe.” 

“Damn fucking right I am. Merry Christmas, Koge.” 

[jjeangrey]

Blame It On Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA agent, and Bucky’s an avenger and a SHIELD agent. You’re both assigned to capture each other. The question is, who’s gonna get who first? Especially when feelings get in the way.

Warnings: Explicit language, angst, mentions of abuse

You woke up and groaned as the sunlight hits your face. You slowly open your eyes and almost fell off the bed as you see a man standing in front of you, crossing his arms.

“God fucking dammit, Adam. I told you a million times to not fucking do that.” You put a pillow on your face and turned around so you wouldn’t be facing him.

“Do what?” He said, acting all innocent. “You drool when you sleep.” He chuckled and you threw the pillow at him. You looked over at your alarm clock: 8 am. Normally, Adam walks into your room and annoys you around 10 am, so it must be pretty important.

You sighed and finally stood up, putting your messy hair in a ponytail. “What do you want, dickhead?” You walk into your bathroom to take a quick shower as Adam leans on the wall outside and waits for you. “Baron wants you. He says it’s urgent.”

“You still refuse to call him ‘dad’ huh?”

“Because he still refuses to act like one.”

“Fair enough.” After a few minutes, you go out wearing just a towel and lingerie underneath and you notice him look away. You subtley smirked. “What does he want me for? It’s supposed to be my day off.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a HYDRA agent. You don’t get day offs.” You chuckled and walked to your wardrobe to change into your normal outfit which is a black leather bodysuit and black leather boots. “Not when i’m HYDRA’s best agent.” He scoffed and sat on your bed, crossing his legs. “Second best, you mean?”

You stopped for a bit because of his comment but shook your head and flipped him off. He laughed and walked over to your door to go out, but he turns around one last time before he completely leaves. “Be fast. You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Tell him, he can fuck off.” He smiled at you and closed the door.

Ever since you were 5, you were taught to kill. Baron Von Strucker took you in after he killed your parents, or to be exact, he made Bucky, aka the Winter Soldier, kill them, and he decided to take you and be your mentor. He made you his top spy, taking down people and stealing informations and documents all around the world.

But when Bucky got out of HYDRA’s brainwashing a few years ago, he made you worse. He and his other top agents trained you to be a literal killing machine, and eventually injected you with the super soldier serum. After that, your only mission was to bring the Winter Soldier back to HYDRA, dead or alive. Of course, you still get other missions, but those are only your side jobs. Your main priority is Barnes, and you train everyday so you can take him down.

After you get dressed, you went outside to go to headquarters, and the other agents greet you, saying “Hail, HYDRA” as you walk. You nod at them and continued on your way, until you’ve reached your destination. You didn’t knock, you just quietly opened the door and entered the room, and you saw a man sitting on a chair, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

You cleared your throat and the man immediately turned his attention on you. “Ah, good morning, Y/N. You’re looking extra feisty today.” He said, smirking as he looks at you from head to toe.

“What do you want Baron?” You crossed your arms as you walk closer to his table. “And it better be good. This day was supposed to be my day off.”

He chuckled. “I did promised you one day off work, didn’t I? What were you planning to do, anyway?”

“Oh, I don’t know, live like a normal person for once?”

“That’s pretty much impossible, Y/N.” He shrugged. “But don’t worry, i’ll make this worth your while.” He paused for a second and slid in a file to you. You opened it and it was full of photos of the infamous Winter Soldier, and some of them, he was with his newly-found ‘friends’ Steve, Tony, Natasha and the rest of the avengers team. “It’s time.”

You closed the file and looked at him. “Are—are you sure?”

“Yes. You’ve been training for many years, and I think you are ready to face him.” Baron said as he leaned on his chair, his eyes still focused on you.

“I won’t let you down.” You can’t help but smile. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, to get the man who killed your parents mercilessly. To get HYDRA’s traitor.

“I know you won’t. This is your true purpose, Y/N.” He handed you a key, the key to the weapons room. “I will be assigning other HYDRA agents to look after you too, in case you would need back-up.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “No, no backup. I can handle this. Trust me.” He smirked and winked at you. “That’s my girl, fierce and feisty. I’ll be sending you information on where he is.” He stood up from his chair and ran his fingers through your hair, which gave you chills and flashbacks when you were a teenager and he did horrible things to you. But you immediately pushed the thoughts aside. You don’t wanna focus on the past, you wanna focus on the future. And the future is taking down James Barnes. And this isn’t just about capturing him, after you do that, you were hoping that you can escape, get out of this nightmare of a life and start over.

“Go get him, Y/N. Go get our Winter Soldier and take him down.” Baron whispered on to your ear. You looked at him and slowly nod.

“Hail HYDRA.”

———

On the other side of the world, Fury greeted Bucky with an early briefing, along with the rest of the team. He just got back from a week-long mission with Steve a few hours ago, and he’s very tired. He couldn’t help but accidentally fell asleep, and his head banged on the table. He immediately looked up and he saw everyone staring at him.

“I’m alright.” Bucky said nervously, as he took a deep breath and straighten his back.

“Are you really?” Sam chuckled.

“Looks like someone needs a good night sleep.” Clint joked.

“Give him a break, guys.” Natasha shook his head. “Him and Steve just finished their mission like three hours ago and they haven’t had an actual sleep for a week.”

“Finally, someone who understands.” Steve said and pats you on the back. “It’s fine, bud. Don’t worry about it.”

Fury cleared his throat and everyone’s eyes went towards him. “Now that you’re all done acting like children, maybe you can actually listen now.” He drops a file on the table. “Barnes, you actually play an important role on this.” He looks up at him, all confused. “Why me?” He asked.

“We believe HYDRA has resurfaced again, and this time they’re being more careful.”

Bucky flinched as he heard the word ‘HYDRA’. It’s been a few years since he escaped and were cleaned from all the brainwashing, but somehow, hearing that name always gets under his skin.

“But we believe that someone connected to them has been roaming around New York City.” Fury continued and he pulled a photo that looks like it was from a surveillance camera. It contains a woman, but her face is covered with a scarf, and only her eyes were visible.

“How did you know that woman is somehow connected to HYDRA?” Tony asked.

“Because I’ve seen her before.” Fury pulled out another photo and it was from a mission in Germany a few months ago. A woman was also in that picture wearing a black mask covering her entire face, except her piercing Y/E/C eyes. “She was on that mission in Germany, working for HYDRA. But she wasn’t there to help HYDRA agents take you down, she was there to steal SHIELD files.” Fury pulled out the last photo from the file and there shows the same woman inside one of SHIELD’s facilities, hacking into one of the computers with a hard drive that has a skull on it.

Bucky puts two and two together and he started sweating nervously as he realized something. “What—what files did she take?” Fury closed the file and looks up at him. “Yours.”

“That’s crazy. What did she want with Bucky’s files?” Natasha asked as she opened the file and looked at the pictures again.

“To kill me.” Bucky answered as he lowers his head on the table, gritting his teeth. He knows that eventually this is going to happen, that HYDRA’s going to track him down and end him once and for all, for betraying them. But he’s mad at himself for not realizing it sooner.

“How do you know that, Buck? Maybe it’s for another reason.” Steve said, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulders but he gently brushed it away. “It’s HYDRA, Steve. There’s no other reason. They have probably been planning this since the day I escaped.”

Bucky rested his head on his chair, closed his eyes and massaged his temples. All he wanted was one day off work, sleep on his comfy bed, maybe even watch his favorite movie while eating plums but apparently the universe have some other plans for him.

“Okay, so we go march into HYDRA’s headquarters, take them down for the millionth time, capture the mysterious woman who had been hacking into SHIELD’s files and head back home in time for dinner. Great.” Clint said as he loads his bow with different types of arrows. “Let’s go then. Pepper’s cooking tonight and we wouldn’t wanna miss it.” Tony agrees and clicks on different things on his phone, probably making sure his suit is ready.

Before the rest of the team could make their exit, Bucky shook his head and said, “No, stop.” Everyone turned to look at him, and he sighed.

“I should be going on this mission. Alone.” He stood up and puts his hands inside his pocket. He’s nervous and afraid of what’s gonna happen, but he knew that this is the only way.

“Not happening, soldier. We are not leaving you alone.” Natasha said, loading her guns.

“Natasha’s right. You’re not going solo on this mission so you could take credit for it when you succeed.” Sam said and Natasha immediately glared at him and he looked down. “Or, you know, you might die or something.”

“I’m the one they want. And besides, if I take you with me, there’s lesser chance that this is gonna go smooth. No offense, but you’re all pretty reckless.” Bucky shrugged and Tony cleared his throat. “Offense taken.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and Fury started talking again. “Barnes has a point. This might get too messy if all of you come to this mission. He just needs to delete the files HYDRA has taken, capture the woman and bring her back to headquarters. It doesn’t have to become a bloodbath.”

“It’s HYDRA we are talking about, Fury. There will always be bloodbath when it comes to them.” Steve turns to Bucky and before he could talk again, Bucky cut him off. “It’s fine, Steve. I can handle myself.”

He knew deep down that was a lie. He can’t admit it to the team but he’s scared. He’s still traumatized after over seventy years of being tortured and brainwashed. He wishes he could just completely get over it, but everytime he closes his eyes, he sees them frying his brains out over and over again. Maybe doing this mission will finally end all the nightmares. Just maybe, he could sleep well at night without screaming and being woken up by Steve.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this alone.” Bruce said from the back of the room.

Bucky nods. “I do have to do this alone. This is my fight.”

Fury looks down on his phone for a second then looks back up. “Agent Hill just texted me the location of HYDRA’s new headquarters, and it’s in Russia. You’re going in alone but i’m giving you this red button so you can click on it if you’ll ever need backup.” Fury throws Bucky a button that looks like a car alarm, and he puts it inside his pocket. “Once you click on it, it’ll trigger a silent alarm in our systems and i’ll be sending the team on your way.”

“Get ready, Barnes. You’re leaving in less than two hours.”

———

You were getting ready to fly off to New York to finally put Bucky Barnes to rest when you get a phone call from Adam.

“What? I’m really busy right now.” You said as you struggle zipping your bodysuit up with only one hand.

“Right. I know, I know, this is a big moment. Killing the Winter Soldier and stuff,” Adam said on the other line, and he seemed like he’s struggling to catch his breath. “So, um, we have a little bit of a problem, I kinda ran into him like five seconds ago.”

You stopped for a second, trying to understand what Adam just said. “What do you mean you ‘ran into him’? Stop playing pranks on me, I will literally snap your neck.”

“I really wished I am playing a prank on you right now ‘cause this is a good one. But no, i’m not. He’s in the building and he just stabbed two HYDRA agents.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything. How did Bucky find HYDRA’s headquarters? And what is he doing here? He wouldn’t know about the plan, would he? There are so many questions going on through your mind right now and so little time.

“Okay, okay. Where are you right now?” You asked as you zip your boots up and load your gun. “Don’t worry about me, i’m good. Just go to the surveillance room so you can see where he’s heading.” Adam answered.

You thanked him and went on your way to the surveillance room. When you got there, there was no guard so you sat on the chair and tried to find Bucky.

“Okay. Where are you?” You clicked on a few things on the computer so you can see from every surveillance camera around the building. Unfortunately, half of them is already down. Bucky was fast and quiet.

You looked at the last two surveillance cameras that are working, and you see him walking to your way. Once he saw the camera, he shot it.

You smiled and twirled your favorite weapon, your batons or staves, in your hands and slipped your gun on your belt. “Got you.”

———

Bucky was on a roll. He already took down a dozen of HYDRA agents after only a few minutes of being on a building without getting caught. Maybe this is gonna be an easy job after all, he thought.

He was going around the floors, checking every room and shooting every surveillance camera he sees.

It was going smooth, until a couple of guards saw him and tried to call for backup, but he quickly ran and stabbed all of them. He turns around and there was about 10 agents in every corner, surrounding him. He looks down and saw one of the guards he stabbed holding a silent alarm.

“Dammit, I did not think this through.” He whispers to himself, preparing his gun to shoot every single one of them.

The HYDRA agents attacked and he thought it was going great until one of them got him from the back and he was suddenly outnumbered. They kicked and punched him and dragged him to a room that what seemed like a laboratory. He immediately got hit by multiple flashbacks from when he was tortured and experimented.

The HYDRA agents tied Bucky to a chair and gave him a few more punches and kicks until one of them finally talked. “Alright, punk. Game’s over. You’re dead meat now.”

Bucky scoffed, he’s used to people threatening him, he’s just gonna play along. He leaned closer to the guy and spit blood on the floor. “Once I get out of this chair, i’m slicing your throat first.”

“Try slicing my throat when you’re a corpse.” The agent took out his gun and pointed it on his head. He was so close on pulling the trigger and Bucky just closed his eyes, waiting for it to happen, until someone yelled from the back.

“Hold up!” Everyone immediately got quiet and Bucky opened his eyes. The agents opened gave the woman a way and she walked closer to him.

Bucky first noticed her eyes, because the rest of her face was covered in a mask. She was the same woman from the photos. He quickly and subtley pulled out his pocket knife to cut the rope...

Until the woman takes off her mask.

He was startled that he almost dropped his knife. He slowly put it back on his pocket and studied the woman’s face.

Beautiful was an understatement. Your eyes were far more captivating than in the pictures, Bucky thought. And you had that mysterious but deadly look on your face that he immediately loved.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Barnes.” You said, making your way to him as each your batons rest in your hands.

After a few seconds of intensely staring at you, Bucky finally found his voice. “You’re the one who wants to kill me?” You chuckled because his question. “I don’t just want to kill you. I need to. You’re my mission. And I didn’t even break a sweat. You willingly came into my property.”

“You’re my mission too.” Bucky answered, his voice shaking. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous around you, but he hoped that you wouldn’t notice it.

He thinks you’re the most perfect woman in the world, except for the fact that you’re trying to kill him.

“I’m your mission? Well, i’m not the one tied into a chair.” You smirked and circled around him. His eyes follow your every move, anticipating what you are about to do.

Bucky pulled out a red button out of his pocket, and his keys made a noise so you noticed it. You immediately snatched it from him and studied it.

“What is this? A silent alarm to trigger your teammates?” You laughed and threw the button on the ground, smashing it with your feet. “Good luck with that.”

He pats his other pocket, and as he suspected, the real button is still in there. You smashed the button for his car. He smirked. “You got me. I just want to remind you, i’m not easy to kill.”

You leaned closer to him, your face only a few inches from him. He thought you smelled like vanilla with a hint of death. He was sweating, but not because he’s about to die. He just realized he has a crush on his killer.

“Oh, you’ve made this way easier for me now, soldier.” He saw you raise one of your batons, and just like that, everything went black for him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I don’t know if I should make this a series, but reblog and leave a comment on what you think!

Here’s part 2 as requested! Enjoy x

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins (part four)

summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

warnings: adult content, mature readers only.

authors note: please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this series, i kinda fucked up my list but i think i got everyone that has asked by memory lol or just let me know if you’d like to be tagged in general i’d be happy to!

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

A week had gone by and the sentiment of those three little words hadn’t been acknowledged since. Though they had full-heartedly meant it, the thought of where they stood in their relationship after saying so frightened them too much to delve into it, frankly. Instead, they buried those feelings in that very room, so that it was back to business as usual. And since then, Craig Russo had stayed away from the club like he was warned and his cousins still hadn’t come to Trigger Finger with guns blazing like they had worried. It was just too quiet which would have given someone from a different profession ease but for them, it sent them on edge. Alma knew that whatever could go wrong Bill could correct it. Reminding herself that even if he could seem careless he’d been in the game a lot longer than she had.

It was the following Monday after the Craig incident that Bill had asked Praline to stay after hours so that he could speak to her. Initially, he didn’t want to involve employees from the club in on any conflict. He’d rather they all stay in the dark while he took care of things behind the scenes so that they could stay focused on their work duties with a general peace of mind. And although he trusted Alma’s relay of information he wanted to hear it straight from the source and hopefully gather more details if there were any.

After Cooch left, he ordered Theo to stand guard outside the loft door and politely asked Praline to take a seat at his desk.

“So I heard you knew the guy we took out back? Is that right, hon’?” He lifted his brows as he leaned back on the front corner of his desk before her.

She looked nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her houndstooth two piece dress while shifting her eyes between Bill and Alma – who was sat in his desk chair. “I don’t know him, know him like that sir.”

“You don’t have to call me, sir. We’re just talking Rebecca,” he assured.  

She nodded taking a deep, shaky breath. “All I know is what I’ve told Echo. I haven’t talked to the girl in my complex in a few months. But I know she still works at Russo’s ‘cause we come home around the same time. I-I can tell cause the light shines under her door when I pass by to get to mine.”

“Hmm, but do you think he’s someone we should worry about?”

“Well… Kansas said you kicked his ass pretty good so probably not?”

Bill bowed his head with an amused expression on his face for a moment. “Alright, then thanks Rebecca,” he sighed. “Theo will walk you out.”

Praline slowly got to her feet with a helping hand from Bill. She paused at the threshold, turning her head to speak once more before departing “Sir, I’ll let you know if I see anything you need to know about. I actually really like my job here and I wouldn’t want to do anything to lose it.”

And nothing of importance had come up since then. That following weekend felt like a clean slate. Alma was in the loft alone, working on the bar staff payroll before doors opened but time had escaped her as she worked an hour into opening. She was typing away on a giant sputtering printing calculator when Bill came in with a giggling Violet at his side pulling at his tucked black button up.

“Oh shiiit,” Bill jumped seeing Alma at his desk. He quickly whispered in Violet's ear causing her to mope and whine at being sent away but happily squeaked when he slapped her ass on her way out. “Forgot you were in here workin’,” he said to Alma as he casually slipped his hands into his pants pockets and sauntered over. “Club’s open you know?”

“I noticed,” she said unfazed, typing on the number pad. “I’m almost done so… you’ll have the place to yourself in a minute,” she finally looked up at him adjusting her giant square framed glasses she held on to from adolescence. She was nearsighted but she used it as a crutch for concentration.

He smiled, “I like it when you wear your glasses. It makes you look so young.”

“Into young girls now?”

“Gross,” he snickered.

Alma rolled her eyes. “Joking. I look like a dork and you know it. Remember when dickhead Bruce knocked them off? Look,” she took them off, “the lens still has a chip in it,” she pointed out before putting them away in a drawer.

“Well that’s why I gave him a chipped tooth so,” he shrugged.

“And then you got a black eye and detention,” she smirked, shuffling pay stubs into a neat little pile. “I’m gonna head back down. How’s the scene down there?”

“Same ol’,” he got up when she did, following her out the loft. “I heard someone talking about you...” he looked at her with wagging brows.

“Let me guess Bundy?”

Bill lightly laughed, “Nah, I overhead Ben asking Kansas about you.”

“Does he want some blow?” She looked back at him as they descended down the stairs into the noisy, smoky club. She thought he’d stay behind but it seemed as if he forgot why he had gone up to the loft in the first place.

“Alma… I think he wants more than blow,” he chuckled under his breath. …

At the bar, Alma was back in work mode, pouring whiskey neat and slipping small baggies of coke into peoples palms on the sly. At this point she operated on autopilot, she didn’t need a verbal order or an inconspicuous nose tap signal. She was familiar with her regular clients and those who she didn’t know she could tell by their uncontrolled tensing jaw or by their leering blown pupil staring needing to re-up. Those who she felt iffy by she’d tell to meet her in the bathrooms where she made them take a hefty bump to prove to her that they weren’t affiliated with the DEA. Cops she never worried about, they were all in on it.

She was preparing a bucket of Coors for Ben, who had specifically asked for her service. He was alone in his usual booth wearing a charcoal silk dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, admiring Chastity spin upside down on the pole to the guitar riffs of a popular Aerosmith song. He had a pleased grin on his face while Alma approached, it made her blush which she felt silly for. It was strange when someone was genuinely into her, she treated all her prospects as transactions as they did with her but with Ben, it didn’t feel so much like that.

“Someone order a bucket?” She smiled setting it down on his table.

“Sure did,” he said reaching for a bottle to drink.

“You gonna drink these all on your own?”

“I was hoping you could help?”

Alma bit her lip shifting her eyes towards the busy bar where she was only met with the watchful eyes of Rashad and Paul who had been ordered by Bill to do so after the events of last week.

“C’mon,” Ben said gaining her attention. “A little break won’t hurt?”

“Fine, but only for a beer alright?”

“Good enough for me,” he patted the seat next to him.

Before she knew it they were finishing off the beers in the bucket she delivered. Both of them were in the throes of laughter over his stories about Wallstreet mishaps. She knew he was a charming man but to make her laugh so hard her belly hurt she was surprised by how personable he was. She could never have thought that she’d find common ground with a man of his caliber.

“Looks like we’re out,” Ben said placing his empty glass bottle topside down into the melting pool of ice.

“Oh! I’ll bring you another one. I need to go back to the bar, I-I didn’t realize,” she could feel the buzz she caught once she stood up but she took a deep breath to manage.

“Wait! You think you can dip out of here?”

“I… I’m not sure,” she chewed on her lip.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?” It was a polite suggestion but his assumption completely threw her off.

“My boy- my? I’m sorry, what?”

“The owner right? I mean, he’s been watching us the whole time?”

Alma took a glance behind her where Bill sat in the VIP section still staring, uncaring of how blatant it was. With a smirk on his face, he raised his glass to her taking the last sip of his bourbon.

“He’s just my boss,” Alma said to Ben. “Give me a sec’ could you?”

“By all means.”

She had to hustle towards the VIP booth in her thin high heels when she saw Portia on the fast track towards Bill as well. Alma swiftly slipped in next to him just before she could. It was stupid of Portia to even attempt to beat Alma to the booth, Bill would have dismissed her himself if she had managed to slip in before her. Yet she flashed a miffed snarled lip before spinning around in her stilettos. Besides Portia, who liked to test her limits, the rest of the girls knew that Alma always had first priority of his attention. They never bothered to vie for it for the most part.

“Well hello,” Bill chuckled.

“Could you do me a favor? This one time, please!” She nearly begged.

Bill sat up, amused. “Depends.”

“The bars closing soon, I just need you to collect the cash from the bar for me.”

“And why can’t you do that?”

“Ben asked me out...”

His amusement faded. “Asked you out?” He rolled his eyes. “Are you being serious? Alma -”

“Just this one and only time. I’ll be back to help count – what’s that like an hour and a half from now?”

Bill rubbed his forehead with his hand, letting it slide down to the lower half of his face where it settled. He contemplatively gazed into her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath to speak. She braced herself.

“Here,” he said reaching into his back pocket, “take my pager.”

Alma relieved, happily took possession of it. She was expecting him to make a bullshit excuse as to why she had to stay and work, that, or just a stern ‘no’. “I swear I won’t be long.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “But page me the address, I’ll be checking the spare in the loft.”

“Okay,” she said scooting out of the VIP booth but she was anchored back when Bill held on to her hand. “What?” She mouthed to him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

Alma blushed, “well if I did that, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”

“Just a quick one,” he punctuated with a coy smile.

She timidly bit her lip before obliging him with a peck on the lips. Until he laced his fingers through hair deepening the kiss, his tongue grazing her bottom lip. It was a reminder. It was a silent ‘I love you’.

“Okay, okay,” Alma backed away, shaking her dizzied head. “He’s watching.”

“I know. Need some cash before you go?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re using you’re own money?” He raised a brow at her.

“No, silly I’m using Ben’s if I have to.”

“Good girl,” he said watching her walk away and into the arms of a dashing, grinning Ben. They stopped by the bar for her to inform the crew she’d be gone and to quickly grab her clutch from under the register.

Bill sighed, bowing his head and drawing a cigarette out from his pack. Lighting it, he took a long drag while leaning back in his seat catching the last glimpse of Alma, smiling and laughing out the club door. It hit him then that he hadn’t seen her eyes light up like that in some time. A pang of guilt tightened his chest when he couldn’t remember when that last time was. …

The joking banter between Alma and Ben had seemed to take a halt when all they listened to was a blaring cringey rock ballad on the radio as they rode along the New York streets in his Mercedes. The silence was mostly Alma’s as she was being cautious in remembering every turn as they traveled to his “luxury two bedroom” apartment as he described. She didn’t entirely trust him, he was just a man after all. Her eyes glanced over at Ben, who was reaching into the breast pocket of his silk shirt, producing three pink pressed pills debossed with an arrow pierced heart in the center.

“Wanna try some?” He asked.

“I’m good I’ve brought some blow,” she said. She wasn’t in the mood to do ecstasy, especially not with someone she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with.

“Oh c’mon, I can half one for you?”

Alma took a pill from his offering palm and tucked it into an empty card slot in her clutch. “Why don’t you take one and I’ll think about it?”

Ben stared at the pills contemplating her suggestion before shrugging and popping one into his mouth, dry swallowing it. “Suit yourself.”

“Oh I will,” she said tapping a large mound of coke on the web between her thumb and index finger, snorting it without so much of wince.

He slowly pulled to the side of a curb outside a regular old complex. She was surprised at the short drive, Ben didn’t live so far from the club – he lived on no man's land. Just a single neutral block between the few that separated Trigger Finger’s turf from The Russo’s. She followed him up to his place, which although looked like any old place on the exterior, the interior was quite lavish. Her heels fell on white marble floors all the way to his loft. It was decked out like a general bachelor pad except that everything he decorated with was of quality and in neutral brown tones too. He even had a taxidermied antelopes head above a lava rock fireplace in his living room which he gave a quick spiel about how he acquired it during a hunting trip in the Rockies. Alma didn’t feel he was being honest about that, he didn’t seem like the hunting type. He was a slightly burly built man but he definitely did strike her as rugged.

“Would you like a drink?” Ben asked pointing at his bar cart.

“No thanks. Your place is really… nice? I feel like I should have a better word for it but-”

“Oh no worries, thank you. I’m not here a lot, I don’t like how… alone? I feel I guess?”

Alma lightly giggled. “It’s kicking in isn’t it?” How vulnerable he was being would have been flattering hadn’t she known he’d taken ecstasy on the ride over.

Ben chuckled. “My heart’s going a mile a minute but I can also hear it in my ears like, like a hummingbirds wings – look,” he took her small hand in his, placing it on his muscled chest, “see.”

Under her palm, she could feel the thumping of his fast beating heart but seemed pretty normal for someone under the influence. “Seems to me you’re alive and feeling pretty good to me,” she smiled at him and before she knew it their lips crashed together.

He was rough almost too rough than she liked but she took it. Allowing her to experience a different man and understand his needs. He slammed her against the edge of the living room wall just before sliding her around the corner into the hallway corridor. She could feel his growing erection through the thin fabric of her dress as he involuntarily ground against her. His hands harshly groped alongside her body, his thumbs digging between her ribs. Until down, down he reached her bottom, slipping his hands under her red dress so that he could knead the plump flesh of her bottom. In one swift movement, he lifted her on to his hips walking down the short hall and taking her to a room on the right where he threw her onto the bed. Alma finally took a breath now that she was broken away from his lips. She took it upon herself to lift her dress over her head showing him that she was wearing only a skimpy lace bra underneath. From his throat erupted a low growl, seeing the girl he most coveted from the club now in his bed, legs spread and pussy wet waiting for him to enter.

“I bet you’ve only dreamed of this,” she said trailing her hand from her breast down to her core, running her fingers through her own slickness.

“Dreamed? I’ve fucking jerked off to this sight,” Ben said rubbing his erection through his trousers with one hand and the other unbuttoning his shirt.

Alma had to resist the urge to roll her eyes from his statement. Surely, there could have been a more eloquent way of saying that. Perhaps even sexier? Instead, she decided to match his energy. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

“Hold on,” he said striding to the side of the bed producing a condom and an untied tie from the nightstand. Alma grew worried then, she wasn’t into bondage, at least not with any old somebody. She eased when she watched him put it around his own neck and then crawled like a preying lion from the end of the bed, between her legs and up her body, connecting their lips once more. They adjusted so that she was on top helping him with pulling down his trousers as he took his shirt off revealing his hirsute chest. She straddled him, rolling the condom on his average length before inching down slowly onto him, enveloping him as they both hissed at the feeling. He took her hips in his hands coaxing her into a fast rhythm.

“Pull the tie,” he grunted.

“Huh?”

“Pull!”

Balancing one hand on his chest she pulled the smaller end of the silk tie like he ordered, tightening the loop around his neck. It wasn’t too weird but she was usually the one asking Bill, and only him, to choke her. She continued at the pace that he urged her on and she worried that he might bust if she carried on yet she didn’t care as long as she got off first. She was reaching her peak, the bed frame rocking against the wall in a rhythmic thud. Her eyes her shut tight, images of Bill flooding her mind helping her get there.

“Pinch my nipples,” Ben choked out, pulling her out of it. Instead, she pulled the tie harder. His face turning a bright shade of violet. “Pinch,” he still managed to choke out to her dismay.

“Shut up! I fucking heard you,” she said squeezing her eyes shut, trying to extract the images of Bill once again from her mind. She was close and the memory of Bill hovering above her, thrusting relentlessly came to mind as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She could hear Ben’s voice again but she ignored it – her orgasm overcoming her when she remembered that sweet soft ‘I love you’ Bill has murmured in her ear. “Shut up! Oh, fuck!” She cried as she bounced on Ben’s dick. “FUCK!” Her eyes snapped open, disappointed that Bill wasn’t beneath her at that moment, her hips stalled yet her thighs shook.

Ben was pinching his own left nipple while the other had hold of her hand that was consistently tightening the tie around his neck, “Get off,” he choked, shoving her lightly.

Alma slid off of him ashamed thinking she did something wrong until he asked her to pinch his free nipple for him.

“Really?”

“Fucking do it,” he said lurching up, taking a tight grip of her throat. It was scary, surely he could snap her neck if he wanted to. So she promptly reached for his nipple pinching and twisting sharply. He let go of his own nipple then reaching down to unsheathe himself to jerk his bare length. Alma was slightly disturbed by it all. She couldn’t figure if it was the ecstasy or was this how he always liked it?

“Slap me!”

“I-If you let go of my neck,” she said hoarsely.

He was way too high to even consider her at that moment all he cared about was getting off. And so she drew her free hand back and slapped him with such a force it made her own hand sting red. He released her throat falling back on the bed coming on his own hairy belly in pathetic dribbles. Alma sat there appalled, feeling dirty and cheap as he relished in his own orgasm. She rolled off the bed, grabbing her dress off the floor before he could come back down to earth. She slipped her dress on as she walked out of the room. Which she noticed was his spare bedroom, he didn’t even give her courtesy of fucking her on his own bed.

“Alma!?”

“Goodnight Ben!”

“Hold on! Wait!”

She heard his call but she scrambled to gather her pager and clutch that had fallen forgotten on the living floor and she was out the door, jogging out the complex startling the doorman she had neglected to notice before when she was still starry-eyed. She was pacing by the curbside contemplating on hailing a cab but she decided to take the cold trek back feeling undeserving of even a simple luxury such as that. …

After collecting the bar money for Alma, Bill sat at his desk checking the spare pager that she didn’t even bother to beep. He was annoyed, rubbing his brow. It wasn’t like her but Alma was a grown woman capable of handling herself, he begrudgingly had to remind himself.

“Uh, Cooch?” Bill said to her as she counted money in the lounge area of the loft. “We should call it a night, yeah? I’ll get this all counted, don’t worry.”

“You sure boss?”

“Positive. You should rest up you had a gnarly set today.”

“Right! But you alright? I don’t mean to pry but I notice Alma’s not here?” She said pushing the mound of cash on the coffee table into a mesh laundry bag.

“Alma went out tonight. She was supposed to beep me and… I don’t know. I’m kinda worried?”

“Ah, I’m sure she’s on her way back.” She got up gathering her tote of nightly earnings and dirty clothes to wash. “And it’s okay to feel something once an awhile you know? You don’t have to be stonecold around me and especially not Alma. She loves you.”

He felt his chest tighten again when she said that. “You’re right,” he sighed. “Bianca,” he said just before she stepped out. “I really appreciate you, we made it this far with your help too.”

“Thanks, boss. See ya tomorrow,” she winked.

Instead of counting bills like he said he would he took the bags over to a cabinet where inside held a secret compartment door that he had to press three unmarked corners in a specific order so that it would pop open revealing a safe that was built into the wall just behind it. He pushed aside his and Alma’s various coats hanging inside and shoved the money inside joining the neatly banded and stacked cash inside. With that done, he plopped down onto his office chair checking the pager knowing there would be no new message. He contemplated on going out to look for her when suddenly she burst through the door, holding onto her frame as she shivered.

“What the fu-” his words died in his throat and his annoyance had completely faded when she looked at him with tearful eyes. “Alma? What happened?”

Shaking her head she stepped out of her shoes that had rubbed the back of her heels sore from the walk. “I’m okay,” she cleared her throat.

“What did he do to you?” He came over to her side but she distanced herself. On closer inspection, she saw the red marks lingering on her neck and developing bruises peeking out from the side of her backless dress. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No! Bill, he didn’t hurt me on purpose. He’s a high paying customer you don’t want to lose his business or his friends business either, okay. I-I just want to forget it.”

“That’s bullshit! I don’t give a fuck about his money?!”

“Stop it, Bill. Don’t make it worse than what it was. He was high off X and he’s… he’s just a fucking weirdo, just leave it at that. Please.”

“God damn it, Alma,” he ran a hand through his hair, stressed that he couldn’t do anything at that moment.

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Just leave it!” She all but yelled. “I have something to tell you if you’d let me?”

“Fine then-”

“Boss,” Theo said with alarm in his voice as he walked into the loft, his gun drawn to his side. “We’ve got company.”

Bill and Alma shared a knowing look and together they sighed, “aw fuck...”

PART FIVE

tags: @dreamtherapy @bskarsgardlove92 @tinygayfungi@skarswhat @nutinanutshell @xskarsgardx @reinamysterio @darling-dearest-desired @erika-beau-berika @fine-i-suppose @corlin90 @codependentcellist  @loveforbillskasgard  @kikilikes  @twosupergayghosts @umbriellethenightfall @tigers-pat

(please let me know whether you’d like to be added/removed from tags)

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

♤Hi! May I please get a ship for Queen & Bo Rhap? I’m 26 but I have already decided that I don’t want kids in the future, I prefer to focus on my career and my dream is to become an editor in a major media. I love reading, writing and watching movies. I’m usually the quiet person at the corner of the room who dresses in all black and tries to avoid all attention. I don’t consider myself a romantic person so I don’t like grand gestures. I also don't like rom coms. Have lots of insecurities.

hellooooooo

i’m taking a break from writing to do this HI i love that you want to be an editor.  respect that so much

anyWAYS on to the part that u actually care about

below the cut ;)

For Queen, I ship you with Brian May!

Roger for sure would scare you away with grand gestures, he sometimes has issues differing between romance and spending needlessly on gooey crap.

And even though Brian is such a lowkey dad, I think he would 100% respect your decision to not have kids, unlike Deacon.

In fact, when you hardly knew Brian, he came to your defense when Deacon was giving you a hard time for wanting to focus on your future and not have to worry about providing for children. You were all seated around a table playing board games (Freddie was having a game night), but Roger and Freddie were wanting to finish their Scrabble game before you started anything else, so they were at the other end swearing at each other.

“I just think that you would be a good mom,” Deacon replied simply, setting his hands on the table and spreading out his fingers as he pressed the palms to the cool, grainy wood. He seemed perplexed by your aversion to kids, seeing as he’d always been such a family-oriented person.

“Oh, lay off of her, would you Deacon? You’re being a bit harsh,” Brian interjected from Deacon’s left. You sighed a bit in relief, thanking God that you didn’t have to endure any more of Deacon’s haranguing. 

“Thank you, Brian,” you mumbled, and he nodded politely, sending you a particularly soft smile before continuing.

“Besides, I think it’s nice she wants to focus on her career. You're one to talk, you were deadset on electrical engineering before oh-so-graciously deciding you would join Queen after all.” John rolled his eyes, partially ignoring Brian as he tapped his fingers on the table, shaking his head. “Y/N’s got a good head on her shoulders. We should all be a little more like her sometimes.” 

Brian’s kind, unwarranted words made a blush come to your cheeks, and you ducked your head as John scoffed, still looking down at his hands. “You think I don’t have a good head on my shoulders?

Brian’s response was simple, but sharp, and came accompanied with a pat to Deacon’s head. “Nope, you’ve got this mess flopping around.” 

When Brian’s hand came to rest on top of his head, you saw Deacon’s expression sour before he smacked his hand away, scooting away from him. “Touch me again and I’ll really give you a good smack. Also, who are you kidding? You can’t even get to your stupid head through that mess,” he sneered, tugging on a curl of Brian’s rather hard and making him yelp, which got all of you to laughing.

Brian 100% started using any excuse he could after that to come hang out with you. He’d ask if he could borrow a book, or ask your opinion on a movie, and then finagle his way into a library date or movie night with you as a result. 

You let him ‘finagle’ it out of you. Brian was cute, and his kind, soft demeanor was a great complement to your need for a subdued, temperate lifestyle.

He was absolutely infatuated with you, so when he decided he was ready to ask you to be his girlfriend, he had to ask the boys how they thought he should do it.

Roger and Freddie came up with some ideas that would have genuinely humiliated you, while Deacon offered an approach that would have you swooning for days, and Brian was incredibly nervous to make it happen - he was pretty whipped by you, so he wanted to get everything right.

And from the beginning, everything went wrong. 

The garlic toast was burnt, the sauce was flavorless, and the pasta was overcooked when you showed up to Brian’s. He’d called you and asked you to come over to help him with a song he’d been working on, so you hadn’t expected for him to be cooking a fancy meal gone wrong when you walked in.

“Shit, I’ve ruined it all,” he cursed as you peeked around the corner of the kitchen. He was standing over the charred garlic toast with his hands on his hips, looking frustrated and pretty much defeated as he tried to reckon with the situation. When you cleared your throat, he jumped in surprise, not knowing that you’d come in.

“Hello, Bri,” you murmured gently, giving him a polite kiss on the check when he gave you a mildly frustrated smile and came over to greet you. “Having some problems? Thought you were working on a song?”

“Well, d’you want to know the truth?” he asked, sounding a bit exasperated as he threw the dish towel over his shoulder, walking back over to shut the burners off on the stove top. When you nodded, he sighed and leaned back against the counter, giving you a pitiful look as he gestured to the food. “I asked the boys what I should do for you tonight. I wanted to do something nice for you to show you that I appreciate you. Want to know what Roger and Freddie said?”

You were a bit red in the face at his particularly sentimental words that were laced with a bit of frustration, but you nodded for him to continue.

“They suggested I take you to wine and dine, then go for a private boat ride down the river that ended in a fireworks show. The whole 9 yards.” You wrinkled your nose a bit at the grandiose idea - perfect for those two, but not quite your style. “But then Deacon had the perfect idea - cook a homemade dinner, stay in, and watch a movie. And I’ve fucked it all up from the get-go, made myself look like an absolute moron who can’t even cook pasta. It’s a wonder you even hang around with me.”

“Brian, I think it’s sweet,” you laughed softly, coming over to poke the garlic bread with your pinky and meeting a remarkably hard surface. “And you haven’t ruined it. How about we just get delivery and stay in? We can watch The French Connection?”

And so you did. You ordered in some Chinese, settled in on the couch, and you were watching the car chase scene when Brian shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he looked over at you with a sort of wistful expression. He was pale, his eyes searching your face with an unreadable stare.

“What is it?” you asked, glancing at him for a moment before looking back at the screen. “Food didn’t make you sick, did it?”

“No, no,” he chuckled airily, scratching his head before turning a bit more to you. “I was just going to ask you something, but I don’t know if I can handle your answer.”

“Well, now you’ve got to ask it,” you replied, raising an eyebrow as you looked at him curiously.

“Well, I said I brought you over here just to make sure you know I appreciated you, but I actually brought you over so I could ask.... would you be my girlfriend?”

Laughing, you cocked your head before nodding and trying not to blush as hard as your body was about to. “Even though you timed this to be during one of the best scenes of the movie, I suppose I’ll still say yes,” you teased gently, reaching over to take his hand and squeeze it.

A brilliant smile took over his face as he squeezed your hand in return before kissing your knuckles affectionately and letting your intertwined hands drop to his lap. “Well, isn’t that good timing? Now you’ll remember this as your favorite scene because of me.”

“Mmm, pretty sure I’ll still mainly remember it for the beautiful, tasteful cut sequences, but you’re a close second.”

And for BoRhap, I ship you with Rami Malek!

Your aversion to grand gestures and intense public scrutiny is very similar to Rami’s avoidance of social media and broadcasting his day to day to everyone. You’re both content with being out of the spotlight if at all possible, and Rami’s low profile public appearances are perfect for your relationship. 

You were a friend of Gwilym’s before you met Rami, and Gwil noticed that both of you were a bit lonely while Rami was over in London for principal photography for BoRhap, so he set you up on a blind date together.

The location? A lowbrow cafe in a less populated part of London. That way, you were out of the public eye as much as possible without having to stay in, and you could get to know each other over some comfort food.

Within a half an hour, you had already warmed up to Rami’s easy-going way of conversing, and his gentle charm was enough to bring you out of your shell. It felt like you’d known him for years by the time your food arrived on the table.

After the cafe, it was dark enough that Rami asked if you’d like to take a walk, no longer fearing that the paparazzi would hound him if he just kept a low profile. 

“So what do you do? I never got a chance to ask you that back there,” Rami asked, his arm held out so you could link yours into it as you started to head down the street.

“I’m an editor at Daily Mail. Not my preferred place of work, but not bad,” you replied, resting your other hand on his arm as you stuck close to his side, trying not to run into anyone.

“Not bad at all,” he chuckled, looking down at you with a small twinkle in his eye before he looked ahead, crossing the street with you. “Gwilym told me you’re into movies, is that right?”

“Gwilym told you something about me? I thought this was supposed to be a blind date, that dickhead!” you laughed, shaking your head as you looked forward. “Didn’t even tell me anything about you, how unfair!”

“I sort of got him drunk enough that he’d tell me the other night, so....” Rami shrugged, smiling sheepishly as you giggled at the thought of Drunk Gwilym trying to describe you. “I was nervous. Wanted to impress you, I haven’t been on a date in... gosh, forever. I’ve been so busy with filming, I basically dropped off the face of the dating world.”

“Still doesn’t make it fair, but props to you for thinking of the drunk thing. That’s a lot farther than I got when I tried to pry information out of him.” After a small pause, you looked down at your feet and smiled, then looked up at him. “And yes, I do like film. I’m a big movie girl.”

“Well... if you weren’t aware, I’m in a few films,” Rami said nonchalantly, an impish grin playing at his lips as he met your gaze for a moment. “I’m an actor, so that’s pretty much my thing.”

“You’re an actor? Gosh, that’s crazy! Never knew that,” you replied in faux excitement, sarcasm lacing your voice, and Rami laughed as you started giggling, the two of you an adorable sight to all the passerby. 

And an adorable sight you continued to be as you went out for a second, and third, and even fourth date at hole in the wall places around London. When principal photography was wrapping up, Rami asked you to be his girlfriend, and even though the distance thing made you nervous, you knew that there was no reason to worry about trust or anything. So, you said yes.

A couple weeks after he’d departed London, he was preparing for the press tours and you were in the midst of a big project when he called you out of the blue, dragging you from a meeting you’d been bored to tears by anyways.

“Hello?” you answered, pressing your phone to your ear as you stepped back into your office, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hi, beautiful. How’s your day?”

Rami’s voice made you grin ear to ear, filling your whole body with an inexplicable warmth. “It’s going. You almost packed?”

“Of course not,” he laughed over the phone, making you giggle softly. “I’m trying, but I really had to get something off my chest before I got to work here.”

“Okay, shoot,” you said casually, though you were confused by ‘get something off my chest,’ so you raised an eyebrow, very interested in what he had to say.

“So, what would you say if I flew into London tomorrow, and you came with me to help me choose my place?”

“Choose your place?” you asked, baffled by the question. You weren’t really sure what he was proposing, but he sounded somewhat excited.

“Well, I really miss you, and Ben, and Gwilym - especially you - so I figured why not get myself a house in London so I can be there as often as I want without imposing on all of you?”

You almost choked as you realized Rami was literally considering buying a home in London to be close to you. It seemed an awful lot like an expensive attempt at a romantic gesture, and you didn’t want that at all. “Babe, please don’t feel like you have to do this just to be a good boyfriend-”

“No, no, I want to!” he interrupted, sounding genuine as he chuckled a little, then cleared his throat. “Also, it’s not just for you, if that worries you. I miss London in general. And Ben and Gwilym. Those two... are something. Can’t believe I miss them as much as I do.”

“More than me?” you teased, Rami’s laugh filling your ear and making you grin as you let the temporary nerves wear off. Rami in London. Now that was something you could get used to.

[helloorandomfandom]

Capture the Sweetheart

Eric Coulter x Reader

Words: 2068 (A lot more than I thought I was writing but yay more for you)

Flip flop flippity flop!

Thanks to those people who actually liked my last Eric fic imma tag you cause you might like this. x

*GIFS NOT MINE*

You jumped after Tris knowing everyone else would want to. Coming from Abnegation as well, people would think you would be selfless but boy were they wrong. You loved doing anything and everything you wanted, in secret of course. If only your parents could see you now. 

Currently you were practicing knife throwing with Will and surprisingly hitting the target every shot, shocking and confusing everyone. For a stiff you were actually pretty good. After dinner you would grab Tris and Christina and help them out. Christina wasn’t all that bad but Tris definatly needed improvement. It had been a full week since your faction transfer so you were used to everyone by now.

“Right next up...Drew and Y/n.” Four’s voice shouted over the chatter and grunts.

You feet padded silently across the cushioned floor and up into the ring. You shook hands with Drew and gave him a sarcastic smile. Arms up, feet stretched you and Drew danced around the mini arena.

“Look at you stiff, small and skinny.” Drew taunted having little effect on you.

“At least it looks better than your face. I mean, shit Drew I would hate to live with a face that bad.”

“Oh hurry up would you!” You heard Eric shout causing Drew to look away.

Now. 

SMACK!

You punched Drew straight in the side causing him to groan and stumble backwards.

“Cheap shot Y/n!”

“Sorry sugar, you should have expected that.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you swear you saw Eric’s jaw clench. 

“Come on then. Come at me.” You taunted towards the circling Drew.

He threw a few punches, one of which clocked you in the cheek causing minimal pain. This only ignited your desire to win and Drew was out cold in minutes due to the inside of your wrist making contact with his temple. 

“Someone help me get him to the infirmary.” Four stated picking up the unconscious Drew. 

You made your way back over to Tris and regrouped. She pulled out some mits and you began taking your anger out on them.  “Why are we so underestimated?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

“’Cause we look weak.”

“Which clearly you aren’t.” A cold voice only belonging to the biggest dickhead ever. Eric.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, oh mighty Dauntless leader.” You said playfully. 

“Watch it sweetheart.” He stated staring his cold blue orbs into your y/e/c ones. “Tris you’re up.”

Tris walked towards the ring leaving you with Eric. 

“Don’t call me that.” You huffed brushing his shoulder with force as you stalked off. 

“Tris...Tris. Wake up, we leave in ten.” Christina shook Tris awake and you ducked out the room to collect breakfast for the three of you.

You returned to the room a muffin shoved in your gob and one in each hand. Christina took hers and handed the other to Tris as the three of you made swift work of joining the others on the train. 

“You’re late.” Eric’s cold voice stated.

“By...thirty-three seconds.” You snapped stepping back to check your watch.

Eric’s steel blue eyes gave you a cold stare as he hopped onto the train. You followed seconds later and by chance the only seat spare was next to him. Stubborn was practically your middle name so you stood holding your body upright  to the abuse of inertia. Everyone was too engrossed in conversation to even notice you were alive. 

“What are you doing Stiff?” The voice beside you questioned. This drew a few people’s attention.

“What does it look like. Sir.”

“Sit down initiate.”

“Oh, wait everyone. It was something other than Stiff. Oh my God. Just everyone appreciate this moment.” You spoke dripping with sarcasm as you sat down.  “Sweetheart, I have many more where that came from.”

You took in a sharp breath and turned away from Eric to engage Al in conversation.Your conversation turned into playful, semi flirtatious banter. You knew he liked Tris so all your flirts were empty. You felt Eric shift beside you as you traced one of Al’s noticeable tattoos. 

“Should I get one?” 

“Yeah why not. Might make people fear you more.” 

You scoffed which turned into the two of you laughing.

Eric’s POV

“Should I get one?”

“Yeah why not. Might make people fear you more.” 

Y/n scoffed and then the most beautiful sound filled my ears. God her laugh was adorable. Wait. No. Eric the cold, anger ridden Eric liked a little Stiff. Never.

Y/n’s POV

Capture the flag. We’re playing capture the flag with paintballs. Excuse my language but honestly, what the fuck is a paintball? God sometimes I wish I was anything but Abnegation born. Four and Eric finishing picking teams, you on Four’s along with Tris and Christina. Heavy guns were placed into your arms and soon you and the rest of your team were jumping out the train.

Before you lept from the train you snarked. “Hey Eric,” The leader turned to you. “Try not to lose.”

And with that your leaped from the train, wind rushing past your body. Your y/h/c hair flowing up like a mane as your fell and resting when your feet touched the ground. It looked like something out of a magazine. Which is what you just loaded into your gun.

“Let’s win this quick, okay? I’m tired and you all know what I’m like when my sleep is interrupted.”

Everyone grouped together and soon reached a good spot to place the flag. It was peaceful for a while that was until everyone had a completely different approach to the game. While everyone was arguing you noticed Tris and Four sneak off alone bringing a smile to your face. By the time they had returned Christina had taken a group to be the offence while you and some others stayed for the defence. Once Tris explained they had found the flag the remainder of the group minus three moved into position. Which of course ended in a ambush. 

You were currently crouched behind an old crumbled piece of concrete dodging the darts flying past your head. The darts had stopped for a short while allowing you time to dive out from hiding and shoot anyone in range. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Three people out all by your account. You sprinted across the field dodging bullets and boxes alike. After meeting up with Tris and Christina you covered them as they made their way into the building holding the opposing team’s flag. On your journey back to cover Al was being shot at by Molly who had no idea you were present. You crouched down and sprung back up shooting her multiple times in the back and legs. You nodded towards him and was off before he could say thanks.

“Hello Sweetheart!” A voice called from behind you followed by the sound of a shot.

You weren’t going to let him win so you did the only thing that came to mind. You feet pushed down into the Earth and then released, launching you body into the air. You mind was set on one goal. Winning. Your body turned in the air rotating you to now face your attacker who wore a shocked expression as your feet landed, hair swooshing much like before. 

“Oh hey. Sir.” You smiled gun now raised towards him. “I thought the phrase was stabbed in the back, not shot.”

“Don’t get smart with me initiate. I could shoot you right now.” “Actually Sir, you’re out of ammo, or did you not notice. We only have twenty in a round and you just used the last one. I’ve been counting and your boots aren’t very silent.” 

“Well what are you going to do initiate? Shoot me?”

“Oh no I have something more interesting than that,” You said turning away and walking. “Come.”

Eric smirked and began to follow you deeper into the woods. It had been ten minutes of walking and silence before you nodded and turned to face Eric.

“Here.”

“Where exactly is here?” He questioned stepping closer to you.

“Here is where I do...” You stepped closer towards him, both your breaths now fanning against the other’s lips. “This.” 

At this point Eric had his eyes closed ready to receive your gift, but little did he know. 

Pew.

The gun went off landing it’s dart right into Eric’s right leg. 

Pew.

Another straight into his left shoulder. Both shots brought him to the ground groaning in pain. 

“Oops. Finger slipped.” You taunted crouching over the gunting Eric.

“You bitch!”

“Hey! I told you to try not to lose and well you did. Like...a half hour ago.” You snapped now straddling his waist. “This is your punishment.” 

“Not what I thought you had in mind Sweetheart.” He growled.

“Yeah well, expect the unexpected.” 

You leaned down to hover over his lips again, one hand on his chest the other supporting your weight from crushing him.

“Well Sweetheart. We should probably get back.” You said ghosting over him before pushing up and standing.

“Such a tease.” 

Eric hissed as he removed the injections and joined you in walking towards the train. 

“Hey Sweetheart? You never got your prize.”

“Wasn’t aware there was one.” You responded turning to him. “Why? You offer-”

A pair of soft lips cut you off. A short moment later you joined in the kiss and were soon a melting mess to this man. Relishing in his taste and crisp minty breath you fought the angel telling you no, instead following the demon’s temptation. Always following that demon you were, probably the main reason for you dauntless attitude.The kiss was fiery and passionate much like Eric but at times slow and meaningful like his soft side. As you pulled away, you caught Eric’s bottom lip in yours pulling it back a little before delivering a small bite and letting go.

Eric rested his forehead against yours and hummed in approval. His cold blue eyes barely visible from his blown black pupils lusting over.  The two of you stayed this way for what seemed like hours, which only happened to be minutes, and only breaking away as you heard the rusty train pass by swiftly. 

“Come on!” You yelled to Eric.

Climbing a post you hoisted yourself onto the tracks and took off sprinting after the train. Eric’s heavy boots could be heard on the opposite side and only disappeared when you flung your body into a packed compartment. Tris and Christina rushed over to you, Christina holding the flag she had captured, both wearing bright smiles and happy faces. 

“Good job.” You congratulated your friends before moving to sit on an empty wall.

Al later joined you sitting in silence.

“Thanks for saving me Y/n.” Al stated giving your cheek a quick kiss.

“No problem Albert.” You smiled as he walked away.

Later on in the ride you found Eric sulking at the door, feet hanging over the edge.

“What’s wrong salty, sad you lost?” You taunted before sitting directly next to him.

Eric scoffed and stared out at the crumbled city scape. The moon shone lighting up certain areas and creating a calm atmosphere as the train chugged along occasionally screeching as it decreased or increased speed.  Eric still payed you no attention and only really recognised your presence when you latched one of your hands together, the other running along his defined muscles. 

Eric visibly relaxed, sending out a long sigh. You smiled and placed a kiss to his hand before resting your head on his shoulder. You stared at the city from it’s new angle and were trapped in awe.

“You know I only have eyes for you, right?”

“What are you implying Stiff.”

“That I’m yours. That is of course, if your not going to be a jerk and reject me after all this.” You said lifting your connected hands before letting them fall.

“Hmm...tempting. But I think I’d rather have you than him.”

You laughed sending vibrations through Eric’s shoulder and down his chest.  “I like jealous you...sometimes.”

“Sweetheart you have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”

“Well, Sir. I Guess some guidance could help.”

“Your already done for.”

Tagged: @that1girloverthere @home-of-the-lonely-writer  @lunaschild2016 @clockworkballerina @buried-in-books @nijiru @kgurew  

[graymalkyn]

Nonny had requested a short piece related to the guitar, which could be angsty, romantic, funny, or basically anything XD so here it goes (as usual it’s not great, it’s more like a sketch, but well...)

He Tian doesn’t delude himself: he knows the chances that Mo Guanshan will thank him for the gesture are close to zero, and that’s because there isn’t anything less than that. But he’s learned to look for those microexpressions that Guanshan occasionally lets show. His scowl, for instance, is different when Mo sees him and when He Tian touches him. So is the inflection in his voice when he screams at him. When he’s actually furious, there’s a little growl that gets mingled with the words he spits out. When he’s just embarrassed, the screaming is louder and there’s some kind of trembling that matches his clenched fists. So he’s confident that when the time comes, he’ll be able to get how Mo feels.

He Tian grins as he’s attacked by a barrage of questions (“Is it for you?” “Will it be this person’s first guitar?” “What is your budget?”). He deflects them by pointing to the guitar on display and producing a fat wallet from his pocket. By the twinkle in the salesperson’s eyes, he knows that he’s secured the guitar.

The tricky thing, however, is when to give it to Mo. After the sauce incident turned saucy, he doubts Guanshan will go to his place any time soon. Maybe if he kidnapped his mom… No, that would be wrong. What about organizing a world sandwich exhibition in his apartment and sending him a formal invitation? No way in hell. At school, in front of everyone? He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to contain a smirk. That would send him right through the roof. He can’t help but laugh at the thought of Little Mo going so red in the face, hissing like a pissed-off cat.     

It would be better to see him blushing for other things instead, wouldn’t it.

Eventually, he decides to go straight to Mo’s house. Mo’s got cleaning duty that day, so he won’t be home for a while yet. Fortunately, Mother Mo is home, so he sits with her for a cup of tea and they have a little chat.

“Please tell him that I hope he can make use of this old guitar. Since my uncle left it behind and I can’t play it, you’re doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. Also,” he slides an envelope across the table, “I’m sorry for ruining Guanshan’s clothes the other day. I hope this is enough to cover for any expenses.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t accept it!” his mother blushes as she waves her hands. “Besides, it wasn’t hard to remove---”

“You’re too kind, but I must insist.” He Tian gives her his charming-schoolboy smile and by the look in her face, he knows he’s won the battle. At least he’s scored a few points with her. The thought keeps him happy as he walks down the street towards the subway station. He stops to buy something to drink and checks the time. Mo’s probably home by now, or maybe not, since he hasn’t received any furious messages.

Walking down the steps to the platform, he tries to imagine Guanshan’s face. For some reason, He Tian pictures him biting his lower lip in frustration. Mo’s pout is a sight that always stirs something within him, so he feels slightly sorry that he won’t get to see---

“HE FUCKING TIAN!” The howl startles him, but he blinks the confusion away and looks up. Mo Guanshan is standing at the top of the stairs, panting; his face is flushed from running after him. He’s clenching the envelope in his right hand and the guitar case is hanging from his shoulder.

He Tian is aware that the train has arrived at the station and is only a few meters away from him. If he hurries and strides across the platform, he can get away with it and live another day. He turns to make a run for it, but Guanshan recklessly leaps down the steps, and He Tian’s brain tells him he’s going to fall and hurt himself if he does that. His legs seem to agree, so they refuse to move, and he waits.

Now Mo is standing right before him. The strap of the guitar case slides down his shoulder and he shoves it onto He Tian. “What the fuck is this?! Are you out of your mind?!”

“Compensation,” He Tian smirks. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Take it! I don’t need you to get it for me!” Guanshan yells. “Who do you think you are?! Who do you think I am?!”

He Tian rubs the part of the chest where the guitar poked him but he still refuses to take it. He tries to read Mo’s expression, so he simply gives Mo a quiet smile, looking for the right words. “Who do I think you are? I don’t know… But we’re getting to know each other, aren’t we?”

“What the… You’re fucking unbelievable,” Guanshan growls. “How dare you come to my place when I’m not there---”

“Oh, wait!” He Tian raises his eyebrows and flashes him a smile. “Is that your issue? That you weren’t there to---”

“As---As if, dickhead!” Mo spits out, cheeks bright red. “Stay away from my mom!”

“My, did she fall prey to my charms? I should have told her that the one I’m interested is---”

“Shut your hole!” Mo’s shrill voice is the perfect complement for the blushing that’s spreading down his neck, getting lost underneath his shirt. He grabs He Tian by the collar as if he were about to rough him up, but He Tian can see a hint of pain in his eyes.

Ah, that’s true. He’s forgotten the most important thing about this guy: his pride. Somewhere along the line He Tian has realized that Mo Guanshan is stupidly proud. He’s enjoyed teasing him, he always does, but lately it feels as if Mo’s discomfort were his own, perhaps after what happened at the restaurant. “You don’t need to be proud with me,” he wants to say, but he gets the feeling that Mo will sock him square in the face if he tells him that.

“If you hate it that much, then,” He Tian says almost gently, “take it as a farewell gift.” He sees Mo’s frozen stare and takes it as a sign that he’s actually paying attention to him. “After today, I won’t come near you anymore. So, take it.” It’s a lie, of course, but if that’s what he truly wants... He tilts his head and waits for Guanshan’s look of relief.

But Mo’s lips aren’t curving into a smile. In fact, they’re trembling as if he couldn’t help it. He Tian sees him clenching his jaw, but the more Guanshan tries to hold back, the more his body shivers.

When he speaks, his voice is brittle. “You… Why… Why do things always have to go according to your pace?”

He throws the envelope at He Tian’s face and it lands on the floor with a soft thud, but He Tian doesn’t pay attention to it. His eyes are entranced by Mo’s face, because he’s never looked this way before.

“Little Mo…” he begins to say, but before he knows it, Mo’s fist hits him in the cheek, not too hard but hard enough for the punch to sting a bit.

“Asshole!” His voice is broken now, and his rage makes his whole body shake in a way he cannot control. “Fucker, why---” Mo rubs his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, leaving a red mark on his face. “I fucking hate your guts, you dickhead!” he shouts.

He Tian picks up the envelope and slips it into the guitar case. He glances around and notices that some people are watching them. He puts his hand on Mo’s arm and says softly, “Come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Mo grumbles, but his body offers no resistance.

He Tian leads him to a secluded place. He waits in silence for Mo to calm down. He’s still muttering “asshole” and “jerk” and other things that He Tian’s grown immune to. “Shouldn’t you be happy to hear that from me?” he finally asks.

For the first time, Guanshan seems to think before he speaks. But when he opens his mouth, what comes out is, “I hate you.”

He Tian sighs. “Which is why I’m saying it should be better for you if we didn’t hang out… If I didn’t go near you anymore.”

Mo clenches his fists and He Tian gets ready to be punched again. But this time, Mo says, “You’re big-headed and irritating and meddling and evil, and since I met you, my life has been fucking hell.”

“You make me sound like a demon,” He Tian chuckles bitterly.

“You fucking are,” Mo Guanshan replies. “Everything you touch turns chaotic, and I can’t deal with it. The world starts spinning like mad when you’re around and it’s fucking annoying. I can’t take it.”

He Tian passes his tongue over his lower lip and swallows hard. “I didn’t think I affected you this much.” He waits, even though he knows that Guanshan’s reply might never come, because deep down he hopes.

Mo’s shoulders tense up. He doesn’t look at him; instead, his eyes are fixed on a spot of the floor where there’s a tiny crack, like the one in his voice when he finally says, “You do.”

In his mind, He Tian pushes Mo against the wall and slides his hands down his shirt and up his back. His tongue has to hold back as well, eager as it is to slip between Mo’s lips and taste him. But he remembers Mo’s reaction to their first kiss. His body and his brain don’t seem to agree on what to do, so he just stands there, frozen.

Meanwhile, Mo’s appears to have realized the weight of his words, because it commands his legs to move and take him out of there, but Mo has forgotten how to walk. He turns around and his feet falter, and the only thing keeping from falling down is He Tian’s hand.

“Aaah, I want to kiss you right now,” He Tian says, blissfully numb.

“Wha---! Don’t, you chicken duck! Dick! Jerk!” Mo manages to babble.

“But Little Mo, you can’t say that and not expect me to act...”

“This is what I said before!” Mo snaps. “It’s always about what you want, when you want it! What about me?!”

“Then you do it,” He Tian says, stepping forward and relaxing his grip on Mo’s arm. “You take the lead.” Before Mo complains, He Tian cannot resist one more dig at him. “Or what, are you that much of a coward?” He hopes that Mo’s outrage will become the excuse he needs, and he’s not disappointed.

A pair of warm, trembling hands grab him by the t-shirt and tug at him, bringing him forward. His lips get crushed against Mo’s in a rough way that suits him, because right now there’s this bubble inside him about to burst. He Tian can’t help but smile, and when Mo’s lips leave him, he leans forward and kisses him slowly. Their breathing becomes slightly heavier and it gets mingled. Mo is clinging to him, melting.

And for a moment, the world stops.

If you haven’t seen it yet, do check @bisho-s version of an amazing TianShan kiss. I swear, she’s a freaking 19 Days angel. Bless. 

[charliebattinson]

BEST FRIENDS? | Best Friend! Shawn [BP] Part 1 | Shawn Mendes

A/N: Hello! I’m splitting this thing into two parts because it was so long haha. I just had so many ideas!! Honestly i’m such a sucker for the “best friends to lovers” trope it may be cliche as hell but it’s my fave. Part 2 has more of a storyline to it just in bullet point form! Also wanna thank @siennarossi, @innocent-before-mendes and @i-keep-craving-craving for advice and for helping me out! Hope you enjoy! Feedback is appreciated! Have a lovely day! ♡♡♡

☆ Read Part 2 here ☆

You moved to pickering when you were a kid and met Shawn when you were 4

He was your neighbor

Bedrooms facing each other

You always thought how stupid he looked trying to climb the tree that was impossible to climb at his age

Since you were new to town when you went to school you knew nobody

Playtime came and you saw shawn by the sandbox playing by himself

You walk to him and asked if you can play together

He was so shy "okay" red cheeks and all

Everything just hit off after that

You guys were attached to the hip

Walking to school holding hands or seating beside each other on the school bus

Some girls from school wanted to play with you and you were so happy to make more friends that you brought shawn with you but the girls said they don't play with boys

"But shawn goes with me wherever i go"

"I guess you can't play with us"

You ditch them for Shawn

“I’ll play your barbie dolls with you y/n”

Wouldn't it be cute to imagine when your parents open the door and look down to see kid shawn in his squeaky voice “Good afternoon Ms. y/l/n! Is y/n there?"

You guys loved watching barney together and singing the theme song

Role playing power rangers and pretending to be fighting each other

Till that one time you accidentally punched Shawn in the face and his nose bled

You always attend each other’s birthday parties and you always need each other by your side before blowing your birthday cake

You play husband wife sometimes

“y/n when were older im going to marry you”

“why shawn” “cause you’re my best friend”

Riding bikes together

Getting boo boos and helping each other out with the wound

“Here’s a bandaid Shawn it’s the barbie one”

Eating ice cream by the front porch

PLAYGROUND PLAYDATES

Giggling to each other while your both on the swings

Sometimes when there’s only one swing left Shawn would offer it to you and he’d start pushing your swing

Lots and lots of videos of you two when you were kids

Halloween time is always a fun time for the both of you because you guys to get to do matching costumes

One year would be you as Mario and Shawn as Luigi with the matching mustaches

“Hey how come you get to be Mario?” “Because I’m cooler Shawn”

another time would be Kim possible and Ron stoppable

another time as Spongebob and Patrick

then ferris and cameron from ferris bueller’s day off but no one ever really got who you were dressing up as that year

and that one time in school where you thought everyone was going to be wearing halloween costumes turns out only and shawn did

Horror movie marathons every halloween

You remember the time Shawn screamed like a girl

“Y/N please don’ tell anyone”

When its Christmas you would go out and make the weirdest looking snowman, snow angels, drinking hot cocoa, baking cookies for santa and opening presents while trying to stay up late and wait for Santa Claus to come out

“My father is the actual santa claus??” “You’re so dumb Shawn”

School plays together!!! Like little mermaid where you played a fish and shawn played a lobster

One of your school plays was also King Arthur

You were a local villager and shawn was the village idiot

Coloring coloring books together

Going to camp together during the summer

11 year old Shawn would be sporting braces and you would make fun of him when he got it

“HAHAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT YOUR METAL MOUTH”

“shawn close your mouth you’re blinding me”

You were a little bit taller than him at that age

You guys would constantly call each other names the kiddish kind

“TOE LICKER” “BUTT SNIFFER” “ONION BREATHE”

He would freak out when he sees your bra laying on the bed

But would also be there for you when you start to panic when you finally get your period

“you aren’t going to die y/n. please your making me scared what if you die, i’m gonna be all alone”

shawn gets so scared when you say a bad word by accident

“Y/n you know we’re not supposed to be saying bad words or we’ll go to hell”

You’re both appalled by kissing when your parents do it or when you’re watching a movie

“EWWWWWWWWWWW” “YUUCK”

“COOTIES EW”

“okay class! go and pick a partner”

🌚 🌝

Your whole family knows Shawn. Shawn’s whole family knows you

Uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents. THEY ALL KNOW SHAWN.

Your family is so familiar to having Shawn around the house so when he’s not there they ask “where’s Shawn?”

High school rolls in and you’re both invited to your first ever high school party

“Y/n do I wear a tux to these parties?” “Idiot”

He ended up wearing Capri shorts and his Birkenstocks

“Please tell me you aren’t wearing socks with your birkenstocks” “well…”

You play 7 minutes in heaven and shawn goes in with a girl

When he goes out, the girl looks so weirded out by shawn

“Well..what happened?”

“She was leaning for a kiss and I got nervous I just screamed at her”

you try alcohol for the first time together in your room; you raided wine in your parents collection

you both spit it out right after

“POISON!!!”

16 year old you is wondering how tall Shawn got over the summer because you have to tilt your head up to look at him

He’s also gotten cuter over the summer no more braces and thank god he stopped wearing those birkenstocks

he’s still wearing those baggy khaki pants

The insults have upgraded

“You stupid lanky dickhead” “fuck you y/n”

You both swear like sailors now

You’re by your lockers and he just salsa dances and sing songs  “look who got an A on chemistry byotch”

You’re both each other’s first kiss you rather have it be your best friend than be it someone else who won’t matter in a couple of years

Also for practice because Shawn ’s been pinning over some chick named Stephanie the whole freshman year

“Come on y/n so you can tell me if I suck or not”

He sucked

“YOU KISSED ME LIKE IM A CPR DUMMY”

Sleepovers at each other’s houses

passing notes in between classes, shawn wanting to play tic tac toe

Doing homework together

Copying each other’s homework

“Pssst shawn what’s the answer to no. 5?”

“I was gonna ask you that!”

“fuck”

Shawn going up your window late at night because he’s tall enough to finally climb the tree

but also the idiot tried doing a stunt and ended up bringing down one of your pipes down with him

you guys would meet each other by the window to say good night

sometimes when he knows you feel bad he would stare at your window and write down a note saying “are you okay?” or “feel better”

You attended junior prom together

“Look at you Shawn looking so fancy in that tux”

You see Shawn’s cheeks redden “thanks y/n you look pretty”

You try to pin his boutonnière and he keeps joking around that you pricked his skin

Till you actually pricked his skin cause he was moving around too much “idiot”

Ditched after a while cause it was getting boring, you both just headed out to the local diner and ordered milkshakes

For senior prom, you had to find a date because Shawn asked someone else; you were a little sad because you’re just used to you and Shawn doing everything together

Watching the schools football games together by the bleachers

They made shawn the school mascot

“it is a sauna inside here and i can’t fucking see anything”

always going together to high school parties

fist bumping to levels by avicii (beacause it was a bop at that time tbh)

asking each others approval when you find someone hot

constructing each other’s sentences before hitting send to your crush

there’s a girl that likes shawn and she’s very confident and flirting around with him and shawn just mumbles trying to talk to her “yeah ugh no yeah totally but ugh yeah no”

You’re just watching him trying your hardest not to laugh

“pathetic”

Giving each other tips on making a move

“I watched that movie hitch and they said that if a girl lingers by the front door it means she wants you to kiss her”

“Shawn you gotta stop screaming at a girl when they try to go near you”

You tell each other who you lost your virginity to and judging so hard

“WHY BECKY?” “Sleeping simon are you serious?”

Also being each other’s person to look for support and comfort whenver you’re feeling down

Shawn would get your favorite ice cream and listen to you on your bed cuddled up to him”

“Hey shawn i got your favorite muffins. Please tell me what’s wrong with you”

Shawn would tell you to leave him alone under the covers and you would just go under the covers

Being lab partners

Shawn making you laugh when he does an impersonation of professor fink with his lab coat and goggles

“Well according to my calculations..”

GRADUATION DAY

You would be cheering for each other when you both get on stage

“LETS GO Y/N LETS GO!!!”

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT THERE”

Shawn would just blast “SCHOOLS OUT FOR SUMMER” on his jeep on your way to your graduation party

He wore a fucking vest and a casual tie with converse to the party

“A vest shawn? Really?”

”yolo y/n yolo”

Booze is present and you both have had a bit too much

You see Shawn standing up on the table dancing to Daft Punk’s One More Time

You push Shawn into the pool but he’s quick to grab you leaving both of you underwater

Going to the park after and riding the swings just like when you were kids

Figuring out what colleges to apply to

both of you just staring at your acceptance letters

“Open yours first” “No! You open yours first”

“FINE I’LL READ YOURS, YOU READ MINE”

Jumping because you both got in

Luckily you both wanted to go to the same college with just different courses so the long distance friendship is off the books

You’re headed off to college to fix your dorm rooms

Shawn would be in such a school spirit he’s already wearing the college hat and hoodie

Shawn just starts playing “everybody lets go” song from dora the explorer in the car

“Here we go...”

☆ Read part 2 here ☆