#what i saw yesterday was actually about something older and not a current problem but today i saw one VA was being racist oh man

[basslinegrave]

why do i keep finding out so many people working on fnaf or being involved are terrible people whats this...

[octuscle]

I have always wanted to try some gay bars around my area, yet I have never managed to actually go to one, I don't think I will fit in at all. Yesterday I received a flyer from a local leather bar popular with the older guys about some kind of party tonight. I'm thinking about going but can't manage the courage, is there any way you could help ?

From my own experience, the biggest problem when visiting a leather and fetish club for the first time is not your outfit. You can even come in a pink tooth fairy costume if your attitude is right. Are you unhappy with your body? No problem, if you're still bursting with self-confidence. Once you've got to the point where you're lying in a sling or fucking someone who's lying in a sling, it doesn't really matter what you look like.

Don't worry, I'll make sure you make a grand entrance. It is now 5pm. You're currently 23 years old and haven't really had much experience with rough sex. We'll change that. I'll make you five years older within the next five hours. Five years in which you have had fun every weekend in the relevant bars. Online dating? Cybersex? For you, that's for sissies. You want to feel and smell your partner's sweat during sex. And for you, shooting your semen into a tissue is a waste. It should end up in someone else's face or ass. And if you get fucked yourself, at least on your chest or in your face.

Do you notice how you change? How your self-confidence grows. How you look at the people around you in the underground. And how you yourself attract more and more glances. You are an alpha stallion. Let me adjust a few things. Three times a week to the gym. You have a career at work. You're an alpha. That gives you the money to invest in leather. These things aren't cheap. But you love the smell. Army? Rubber? Skinhead? All hot fetishes. But you need the feeling of black leather on your skin.

When you get off the underground, you grab the crotch of the hot guy opposite you with your leather gloves as a farewell. And then you head for the toilet of the underground station with your heavy boots. Totally filthy place. But with glory holes. And sure enough, there's someone waiting on the stall next to you. You haven't had sex for two days. And you gratefully get a blowjob before dinner.

In the burger restaurant you stand right at the entrance. A couple of guys think you're the bouncer. With your black bomber jacket and short-cropped hair, that's not far-fetched. What if your colleagues saw you now? No one would recognise you without your tailor-made suits. At least not at first glance.

After the burger, you go out for a beer or two. You're already wearing the full outfit. Leather jeans. Leather shirt. People gawk and drool. But you only have eyes for guys in leather. Too bad, there are none in the gay bar today. More like young party people. So it's better to move straight on to the leather bar.

On the street, at the stairs down to the bar in the basement, there are a few really hot guys smoking cigarettes. Beginners. You put a fat Dominco Presidente in your mouth. And exchange glances with the bearded leather master standing on the railing of the basement stairs. He stubs out his cigarette, takes the cigar from your mouth and grabs your chin with his other leather-gloved hand. Wouldn't you like to put something else big in your mouth?

After a few minutes, the two of you are the attraction in the dark room. This is a promising start to a horny weekend. Make the most of it!

[bengiyo]

Moonlight Chicken Ep 2 Stray Thoughts

Can you believe we're getting double doses of Aof shows now each week? Yesterday, we were treated to possibly the best opening we've ever had in BL. We have a sense of the dynamics of the restaurant and the way the financial crunch of the pandemic is hurting this town. We know that Uncle Jim is gay, and down to clown with Wen, but only casually. Li Ming doesn't seem happy about his current circumstances, and is now. wrapped up with the deaf son of a local police official. Alan (First Kanaphan) is so notable in his absence that we all were thinking about him. Mark Pakin and Khaotung continue to deliver phenomenal performances from supporting roles.

I'm so curious about Leng coming along with the restaurant.

I love the way Mark moves.

Wen just got here and already is like, "I am persistent."

"Chapter 2: The Temporary Chicken Rice"

I like the vibe Praew is giving off. Curious if this lotto thing is foreshadowing or world building.

Fourth feels so different as Li Ming.

Li Ming has to have thoughts about his uncle's fling suddenly working for them.

Uncle Jim and Li Ming seem to have a tense relationship.

So Heart doesn't have anyone to speak to because his parents haven't learned sign? No wonder he was driven to drinking.

Curious about why Heart took the photo.

Earth being allowed to play older characters is such a sexy move by Aof. He even gets to be funny!

Ah, yes, let's see Leng, Gaipa, and Praew together. These three are so comfortable on film.

I hope Khaotung being in love with either Earth or Mix continues as a bit far into the future. Gaipa is being nice, but he is definitely here to check out the competition.

Fourth joins the ranks of the fit boys we find excuses to strip.

I do like that we're drawing attention to Thai pronouns and how some of them have a familial context. Jim is younger than Li Ming's mom, so I think he would normally use "Ar"

There's a lot seemingly weighing on Li Ming. He clearly seems stressed about affording school in Bangkok, and seemingly has no interest in girls. He also seems to be struggling in his English classes, and seems to project a lot of this onto his uncle.

I think this tv sequence is the first time we've seen Li Ming seemingly relaxed so far.

I figured Praew was going to be pregnant with the eating earlier. Curious that they came to Jim with this problem. Does everyone go to their local gay uncle when they have problems?

Jim is doing such a bad job of keeping Wen at arm's length.

Omg the face journey Mix just took us on when he realized that Li Ming doesn't feel like he can talk to Jim about his desire to travel.

Fourth can smolder. I'm glad he worked with Mix on this show, because you can feel his brewing attraction to Heart.

Mark Pakin just made me cry. When they say acting is reacting, they're talking about Saleng's face dropping in awe when he realized that Jim actually did come through and help him. You could see the relief and thanks wash over him. He thought he was alone with this big situation, but Jim threw him a lifeline.

Wen is clearly fond of this behavior.

"I'm giving you your reward." This feels like something Aof put in from all the BL kids teasing him and always trying to hug him.

"Get serious with someone. Kill your loneliness...I can't stay with you forever you know?" Gosh this felt so gentle and caring.

I like the price of 3000 THB as compensation (roughly $89.33 USD). How you feel about that amount of money says a lot about where you sit.

Jim saw the potential for Wen to be with someone else and instantly retreated.

I like that Aof knew the 1000 stars fans were not going to put up with Mix and Earth making fuck-me eyes at each other all month waiting for payoff. This is much more intriguing.

I kinda hope we don't learn what made Jim give up on love for himself.

Next week we learn about Jim's homophobic sister, confirm that Fourth does the chin thing on his own, and I hope to the gods we see First.

[alexturntable]

Ok so from that interview do we gain any more insight into what Mirrorball means? Is he saying it's like fragments (the way a it's made up of lots of tiny mirrors). So self reflection or the mirrorball is a song? It's too early and I'm short circuiting!

I’ve been thinking about this since I re-read that interview. Here is the full quote for context:

"I always wanted to use the word ‘Colorama’ in a song ever since I saw Antonioni’s Blow Up. It was an unplugged neon light at the back of my mind for years. Some lyrics are declarations of love or hate written in blood or carved in a bus stop, in need of little or no melodic illumination. Some, I believe, are there almost entirely to facilitate it. If I ever thought about it at all I’m sure I used to think the melody was the vessel that carried the lyrics but more recently it has occurred to me that the opposite is often true.

The problem with the neon sign analogy is that neon signs are invariably bolted to the wall and full of gas. Melody seems as though its poured rather than sprayed and doesn’t feel as though whatever holds it ought to be fixed to anything.

I sometimes imagine each word to be made using a three dimensional open-top glass alphabet. Each letter built to harness and transport the mirror ball liquid marble of the melody. When the ‘substance’ fills up the syllables they seem to shimmer and become weightless. With the addition of close harmony I see colours swirl together, parts of the lyrics glow and the way in which they float suggests that something like the ‘star gate’ sequence from 2001: A Space Odyssey is happening deep inside them out of view.”

So in this neon light analogy the letters are like containers made of glass which are meant to transport the melody. The melody is a "mirror ball liquid marble". Mirror balls reflect lights directed at them in all directions and liquid marble would create this effect of colours swirling together which when put together would look something like the star gate sequence he mentions. So I guess what we can understand from this is that in this analogy the mirror ball is part of the substance that represents the melody which fills the lyrics.

In There'd better be a Mirrorball, he may mean that he hopes that there will be "melodic illumination" or music accompanying this separation he's describing. After listening to Body Paint I feel like Mirrorball could also be a self-refelction song, probably the whole album. So maybe the "relationship" he seems to be ending is actually his relationship with the current persona he's been putting on that he's moving on from to start the process of writing a new album. That's why he starts with "don't get emotional that ain't like you". Maybe it was easier in the past to get rid of a persona but as he gets older it's more difficult to do so. "Yesterday's still leaking through the roof / that's nothing new" some parts of the previous persona are still present but it's always been this way. "I know I promised this is what I wouldn't do / somehow giving it the old romantic fool / seems to better suit the mood" he never wanted to write gooey songs or direct, staright-forward lyrics but now maybe he is.

"So if you wanna walk me to the car / you oughta know I'll have a heavy heart / so can we please be absolutely sure / that there's a mirrorball?" If the old persona wants to walk him to The Car, meaning the new album, he will be sad about parting with the old one so he wants to be really sure that this it's worth it, that there is a really good melody / song to use for this new era. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that this could be the same mirror ball metaphor he had in mind when he made that analogy in 2016 and this is how I would interpret it but it could also be a complete coincidence that he had used that word before. Either way it's fascinating to read the words he uses, his brain will never seize to amaze me.

[rustycottoncandy]

I'm currently in a waiting room so I'll talk about something that happened earlier at school.

So as I said in some other post, we are no longer allowed in the school's library at recess, so I've got to make do with what the playground(?) has.

I took my laptop (since the MP3 we bought yesterday didn't... Um... Play music.), a sketchbook and my pencilcase and sat down on a bench where there weren't many people around, put on some music and drew.

There were two other benches on my right and the same amount in front of me, so there was a lot of space in case anyone wanted to sit down.

A group of guys some years older than me (around 2 or perhaps 3) walked by and they sat on the bench in front of me. Cool, that's okay, people can sit on benches, that's alright.

The problem came when one of them moved to the bench I was in while the rest stayed on the other one. I was a bit uncomfortable, but that was still okay. As I said, people can sit wherever they want.

He looked at me a few times, so I stopped drawing and waited for him to stop looking or something - looking at my drawing was alright, though, I guess. Uncomfortable but alright.

Then the rest of the group in the front bench throw a fucking stick at me.

What the fuck.

This would NOT have happened in the library.

They said sorry but they were laughing so it was most likely to not be an actual apology and just be a mock.

I picked up my stuff and moved to another bench and when I left, they left. So was the whole purpose of sitting there just to throw a stick and laugh at a random person who is just minding her business????

I told this to my former English teacher (the one from last year), because she saw me a few minutes later, and she informed me that there's a room that acts like a library now, so I'll probably go there at recess from tomorrow on.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

I'm Yours

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: There's kissing. A lot of kissing. Just some teenagers being dumb really. No canon characters were harmed in the making of this fic. I didn't include a cheating aspect since I don't write for that kind of stuff, but there's still some jealous!Kirishima here >:3

Author's Note:

Uhhhh I kinda forgot to make this fluffy . . . .

Thanks to uwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwi from Wattpad for requesting! (that's a really fun username hehe)

Enjoy!

-Sugar

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Swamped.

That was the only way he could describe it. Kirishima didn’t think he’d ever been so busy, and he wasn’t the only one.

Finals had the entirety of the hero course stressed, especially the second-years like himself. Between training, doing homework, and going to class, there wasn’t exactly room for being social. Any time he was able to hang out with his friends, they were studying together. Nothing he'd really describe as 'fun'. And that’s what had him feeling the worst about all this.

He’d started dating you a few weeks ago—going on three months now, actually. Things had been going well between the two of you. You liked him and he really liked you, so to him, there hadn't been any type of problem.

Even so, there was something a little unique about your relationship: no one knew about it. You yourself were never one for letting others get too involved in your business. And besides, you also knew the nature of most high school relationships. Maybe you’d announce yourselves as a couple and make a big fuss only to grow tired of the other and end it all within the first month. But clearly, that hadn’t happened.

There was a strange thrill to keeping your relationship a secret; a novelty your boyfriend hadn't expected. Though he wasn’t much for dishonesty, Kirishima practically lived for the stolen glances across the classroom you’d share, and the way he’d sneak you behind the school for impromptu makeout sessions with no one ever the wiser. You were his little secret, and he was yours.

Until it had all come to a grinding halt with the extra schoolwork.

He still tried to make time to spend with you in one of your dorm rooms, but the both of you finally had to admit to yourselves that neither of you could get any work or studying done when you were alone together. And so it was back to study groups; holding hands under the table as either Bakugou or Yaoyorozu went over the newest batch of hero laws that needed to be memorized.

God, how he wished this could all be over. Kirishima just wanted things to be normal again. When was the last time he’d even seen you? He could remember watching the back of your head duck out of the classroom at the end of the day, but after? . . . Nothing.

He frowned at the physics worksheet laid before him, mind wandering to thoughts of you as one of his sharp teeth sunk into the eraser at the end of his pencil. Kirishima supposed he should go check on you later, once he’d finished up his assignments for the evening.

…

“Did you see (L/N) yesterday?”

Kirishima’s ears unconsciously perked up at the sound of your name. He stood with his tray in the lunch line directly behind some of his female classmates. They were chatting amongst themselves as they slowly stepped forward. Kirishima wasn’t generally one to listen in on conversations he wasn’t a part of, but now they’d captured his interest. Had one of them seen him sneaking into your room?

“No, I didn’t,” Uraraka said in response to Ashido. “Is she alright?”

“Of course she is,” the pink-haired girl said, rolling her abnormal black and amber eyes as she reached for a clementine. “Actually, she may be doing more than alright.”

Kirishima swallowed. Uh-oh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jirou asked, sounding largely uninterested in gossiping about her fellow classmate.

“Well,” Ashido began, bouncing a little on her toes, “I saw her on the tech floor yesterday and you won’t believe who she was talking to.”

“Who?” Jirou asked dryly, probably hoping to get the discussion over with as quickly as possible.

“Kobayashi Tatsuo. The third year,” Mina announced proudly.

The redhead behind them quietly sighed. Thank goodness. They still didn't know.

“And?” Uraraka questioned.

“They were totally flirting!” Ashido said. “(L/N)’s bagged a cute upperclassman boy! They’ll be dating soon, I just know it! If they aren’t already.” She smugly leveled her shoulders, grinning with an odd look of satisfaction.

What?

“I guess that’s good for her,” Jirou commented, picking up her tray from the lunch bar in order to follow her friends to a table.

“I know, right?” Mina said excitedly as they walked off. “And he’s totally cute too! I wish a hot guy would pay attention to me for once.”

Kirishima watched them leave, almost forgetting to grab lunch for himself after being so absorbed in what they were saying.

The majority of him knew he shouldn’t pay any mind to it. This sort of thing was bound to happen. Of course his peers try to figure out who was involved with who, even if it wasn’t really accurate or from the most credible source. The girls didn’t know that you were already taken by someone else, in fact, the very person behind them in line.

At least now he knew where you’d gone after class yesterday . . . but why? What were you doing on the tech floor? And who was this third year you were talking to?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Kaminari’s voice. Kirishima returned the greeting, sliding into his seat next to his friend. As he settled into the atmosphere of his usual table, he couldn’t help but scan the cafeteria for your face, just as he had done every day, even before you were dating.

But for the first time, his search came up empty. You were nowhere to be seen.

…

Kobayashi wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to be spending your lunch with.

Really, a part of you wondered why you had to skip going to the cafeteria at all today. But then you remembered the stack of work that sat on your desk. It stubbornly refused to ever shrink, no matter what you did. Recently, it felt like as soon as you got one thing done, two more assignments would find their way right back at the bottom. And this was just another one you had to deal with.

While reviewing your materials for your upcoming finals, you’d begun to take note of other heroes’ costumes and support items. Particularly, you’d taken interest in a hero from Ukraine who’d debuted a few decades ago. Your quirk was wildly similar to his and you couldn’t help but further research his techniques, costume, and gadgets that enhanced his abilities.

You weren’t one to copy. Actually, you quite liked the way your current costume functioned and looked, with its own unique style of your own. Even so, you’d read things about him and his quirk that you honestly hadn’t even thought of for yourself, and you’d begun to make a special section in your notebook for improvements to your hero ensemble. Was it the best use of your time? Perhaps not, but you did have a practical exam coming up, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if these improvements you were sketching might make all the difference in your performance . . . .

You decided you could use an upgrade. Which is exactly why you went to the second-year in the support course who was in charge of making adjustments to your costume. Until your hopes were immediately dashed when you found out he was sick. Determined, you went to the next best option: Kobayashi.

He was a nice enough boy. Tall, witty, and a whole year older. You hadn’t expected to be spending so much time with him over the past week, but for whatever reason, he kept calling you back to his workspace in the shop for ‘daily check-ins’. At least he was making good progress.

But now you were spending your lunch hour eating with him. It felt strange, being alone in a different classroom with the guy—not an uncomfortable strange, merely “I’m not used to being here”. You’d let him borrow your notebook full of sketches for your costume, and that’s what he was going over with you now.

He’d ask you for clarification on one of your notes before jotting something down of his own right next to your handwriting. He had also been eager to show you his process, explaining the steps of what he was doing while you ate from your bento.

To be honest, it was kind of nice being in a different setting. Kobayashi was fun to listen to; it was clear he was passionate about what he was doing.

But still, he ran out of things to talk about. That was, when it came to your hero suit. Figuring it was too late to go back to the cafeteria anyway, he ate his own lunch with you, striking up a new conversation.

At first, you didn’t pay any mind to it. But then you began to take notice of how close he sat. Then you realized how eager he was to make you laugh, how smoothly the casual chatter flowed between you. And then it struck you just how much he peppered in compliments to you. Finally, it clicked.

Uh-oh.

You refused to meet his gaze when he waved you off after the bell rang. Dashing away, you wondered how serious he might be. Did he actually like you? No, perhaps you were overthinking the situation.

Then again, he had been being awfully nice to you ever since you’d met. But what if that was just how he was? Kaminari could be like that at times, and you knew he didn’t usually mean anything too serious behind it. Or—well—perhaps Denki the Flirt was a bad example for your case. Still . . . how were you supposed to make it clear to Kobayashi that you weren’t interested?

You shook your head to clear it of these thoughts. He hadn’t actually done anything, so what was the point of worrying about it? You were loyal to Eijirou, you knew that. You’d made a commitment to him just as he had to you, and that was all there was to it. No matter what, you’d continue whatever it was you had with him. Kobayashi wasn’t an issue you should be losing sleep over. Besides, you were probably reading too far into things anyway.

Content with the conclusions you’d made, you walked back into your homeroom class for fifth period. Settling into your seat, you faced the chalkboard in front of you, awaiting the return of Aizawa-sensei, unaware of the pair of ruby eyes fixed on your back.

…

Kirishima shot up from his desk the moment he heard a soft knock on his door. As soon as he opened up his room, you came barreling into his arms. “Hey!” he greeted you, reciprocating the hug.

“Study break!” you announced quietly, not wanting to alert his neighbors of your presence.

He tittered happily to himself, leading your bodies back to his desk where he could sit you on his lap in his chair. Settling comfortably on his thighs, you were quick to slot your lips against his. Kirishima melted into your touch.

How many days had it been since he’d last gotten a chance to kiss you? Two? Three? Either way, it had been far too long.

“Shall we take this to the bed?” he joked after a few minutes of kissing.

You chuckled at his harmless allusion. “You know I’m going to fall asleep as soon as I lay down.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face, concern morphing his features. “Have you been getting enough rest with all this going on?”

“No,” you admitted. “I was up last night with my English flashcards. I swear Present Mic is trying to kill me with this new vocab, it’s like I can’t get it in my head at all.”

“I could help you study it,” your boyfriend offered, his hands resting lightly on your waist.

“That would be productive,” you said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “What was it last time? ‘If I get a set right, I’ll get a kiss’ and then next thing I know, we’re making out on your bed for twenty minutes.”

He grinned up at you coyly. “At least I made studying fun.”

“That wasn’t studying!” you protested with a grin. “Speaking of, my timer’s going to go off soon—” you pressed your lips against his for a moment, “—and I want more kisses.”

Kirishima let you have your way with him, threading your fingers through his hair while you savored the taste of his lips. But there was something still nagging at the back of his mind.

“(Y/N)?” he asked when your phone buzzed and you pulled away. “Where were you during lunch today?”

You shrugged, pulling your phone out of your pocket to silence it. “I’m getting improvements on my hero costume. My regular guy got sick so I’m working with this third-year dude.”

“Ohhh.” Kirishima’s worries dissipated almost instantly. “So that’s why you were on the tech floor.”

Confused, you frowned. “Did you see me there or something?”

“Oh, sorry! I just overheard Ashido saying that she saw you down there.” He laughed. “She thought you were flirting with him or something and that you were going to end up dating.”

“Ah, well,” you mumbled, “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything or not but he, um, actually might have been flirting with me.”

Kirishima’s smile dropped, his arms subconsciously squeezing you tighter to him. “What?”

“I only noticed it today—it totally could be nothing—but I think he’s caught feelings? I mean, why else would he ask me to have lunch with him like this? Not to mention how he was smiling at me, and looking at me, and touching my hand—” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from saying anything else. Maybe this was more serious than you realized.

Your boyfriend was silent, staring at the floor below you with a troubled expression. His ruby eyes traced over the rectangular patterns on his floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“You know that nothing’s going to happen,” you attempted to reassure him, lifting his chin with one of your fingers so he could look into your eyes. “Those feelings aren’t reciprocated and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already picked you, Eijirou. There’s no one out there like you.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, sealing your statements, not only to him but to yourself. “We’ll sort this out. If I have to tell Kobayashi I’m taken, then so be it. Maybe keeping our relationship a secret isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

When you pulled back, you noticed that there was still a pout on Eijirou’s face.

“Aw, what is it?” you asked, tucking one of his fallen sticky spikes back under his bandana.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, pulling you even closer to him.

“Talk to me, baby.” You ran a hand down his back.

“I don’t like the thought of him being around you,” he confessed into your shoulder. “I . . . don’t want him smiling at you like that, or touching you, or letting people think that you belong with him. You’re . . . mine.” He paused before laughing dryly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. That sounded . . . totally selfish of me and probably not very manly at all—”

“No,” you said simply. “It’s actually kinda hot.”

He pulled back to look at you, perhaps to see if you were joking. Your expression was intrigued, maybe a little flustered. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “I . . . like when you call me yours. It’s cute. And besides, it’s okay that you feel that way. Feelings don’t have to make sense. I'm frustrated about this too.” Pecking his lips a final few times, you regretfully stood from his chair. “I wish there was something more I could do right now, but I should get going. I promised Tsu and Uraraka I’d meet up with them. We can talk about this later.”

“See you, (Y/N),” Kirishima said.

You smiled and waved, turning to the door and checking to see if anyone was in the hall before slipping back out. Kirishima watched you go, wondering what he should do.

Kirishima hadn’t even met the guy and he already hated him. Sure, Kobayashi wasn’t aware you were taken, and he had every right to show interest in you, but that was supposed to be Eijirou. It was Kirishima’s job to flirt with you and be there for you and sweep you off your feet. Your classmates should be shipping you with him, not this random guy from another year.

The redhead sighed. He shouldn’t let himself get so caught up in this. He knew you were capable of sorting this out on your own, and if you really needed him, Kirishima would help you. He couldn’t start getting whiny like some kind of child.

Besides, your friends could think whatever they wanted. It couldn’t affect your relationship. They were just high school kids. They didn’t even know what they were talking about.

Despite the fact he was trying to get back into focusing on his work, Kirishima’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Maybe once exams were over you could finally announce that the two of you were together. Then you wouldn’t have to sneak around so much anymore. He could hug you whenever he wanted, and you could sit on his lap during movie night. He’d be able to kiss you in front of his friends, no problem. Maybe, just to see the look on his face, he’d kiss you in front of—

No, no. Japanese Literature. That was what he was supposed to be thinking about right now. The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he’d be able to see you again.

…

Finally it was Saturday afternoon, and you knew you had an entire day to take things a little easier tomorrow. Maybe you’d even try to take the evening off and spend some time with your boyfriend. But of course, you had to meet with Kobayashi about your hero costume first. Hopefully it would be quick, and perhaps even the last time.

You walked down to the tech floor, heading straight for the workshop. You needed your suit for the practical exam next week, so you hoped he was ready for you.

Peeking into the room, you spotted him putting something into a very familiar case.

“Oh, are you finished?” you asked, walking in.

“Yeah,” he said brightly. “You’re all set, (L/N).”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Here,” he popped the little box open, showing off the finalized improvements he’d done and the changes he’d made that you’d spoken about together. He walked you through everything and you listened politely, asking the occasional question. Even with the newfound bitter taste in your mouth at being around him, you had to admit he'd done a spectacular job.

“That should be everything,” you said, ready to go. “Thanks for working with me.”

“No problem.”

Satisfied, you began to walk away.

“Wait, (L/N).”

Apprehensive, you stopped, turning back to him. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering,” he began, bashful, “if you’d like to grab lunch with me sometime.”

You frowned, apologetic. “I can’t, Kobayashi senpai.”

“Why not?” He looked hurt.

You winced. “I’m already involved with someone else.”

“You’re just ‘involved’?” he asked dubiously, the expression on his face changing. “Please give me a chance. I can see that you feel something for me too. Whoever you’re with, I could be better.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, any momentary sympathy you might have felt evaporating. “Goodbye, Kobayashi.”

He let you go, watching as you walked stiffly out of the classroom. As soon as you rounded the doorway, you felt something grab you. Gasping, you startled, but you were quick to register a familiar head of red hair. You saw Kirishima put a finger to his lips, pulling you further down the hall and towards the empty stairwell for some privacy.

He pushed you up against a blue-gray wall, grinning at you with hooded eyes.

“Eiji, what—?”

“I heard the whole thing,” he murmured, leaning in and capturing your lips for a quick kiss. “I thought that guy might make a move on you so I followed you down here. You held your own.” He kissed you again; this one longer, his tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. “You’re really mine, aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips, a stubborn trace of hesitancy still present and quavering in his voice.

“Of course I am, Eiji,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his. “I’m yours.”

He surged against you again, kissing you hungrily and pinning you even harder against the solid surface behind you.

You gasped against his force, eyebrows drawing together as you struggled to keep up. “Ei—” you tried. “Not here, let’s go someplace else.”

“Who cares?” he murmured, uninterested in stopping.

“Me. I don’t want to get caught by a teacher or a random fifteen-year-old. We could get in trouble.”

Kirishima sighed, finally drawing back for a moment to meet your eyes. “Okay, fine. But we’re going straight to my room, right?”

You snorted. “Where else do you think I want to be?”

He smirked, taking your hand again. “Good answer.”

Kirishima briskly walked you back to the dorms, his hand migrating ever lower down your back. It wasn’t long before he was sitting you on his lap in his bed, mouth once again connecting with yours right where it belonged.

You weren’t sure he’d ever kissed you like this before, in all the time you’d been together. His passion blazed before you, unrelenting as your teeth and tongues crashed together. He nipped at your lips until they flushed and swelled, and you knew they’d be noticeably bruised by morning but neither of you stopped. He kept going, trailing more kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jaw, and all the way down your neck only to return right back to your parted lips whispering his name.

Kirishima’s room had never felt so hot and stuffy, even as he pulled off his uniform jacket and helped you out of yours. His cheeks burned red as his eyes, so caught up in what he was doing, the only thoughts his mind was still capable of having were simply You.

It went by in a haze. He wasn’t sure when exactly he’d lowered you onto his pillow, or how long he’d been hovering over you and caging you in with his arms as he cherished you.

But he knew one thing. His love for you wasn’t something he could hide anymore. No, he’d never let anyone think they stood a chance with you again while he was around.

One day soon, he would kiss you good morning at breakfast. One day, you’d hold hands in the halls on the way to class. One day, he’d pull you in close after school, slinging an arm around your hips just so he always knew you were there at his side.

But he was happy to be here with you now. He was happy to be your secret. He was happy, even as his kisses began to soften and slow, content with the way your body melded against his as he laid himself at your side and hugged you closer. All that mattered was that you were here with him now, and he was yours.

And you were his.

══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicalyrandom @bumbyslair @f0leysgurl @hyunmin-1404 @kqtsukii @nabo39 @pyrofanatic​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @ure-a-sunflower @xoxopam4​

[rosiehufflepuff]

☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑

𝓦𝓮𝓫 𝓸𝓯 𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️🍑☁️

Summary : Draco emotions is getting the best of him , as you and Harry are paired for astronomy project , causing a big hit in your friendship not only that but also causing you to ask why he was jealous when you are only friends and how he is trying to control who you can have as friends and who you can’t have as you call out his toxic behaviour and Draco discovers his emotions .

Draco X Fem Reader

Warning : jealousy . Possessive Draco , Insecure Draco , Harry and Draco rivalry , Angst , and too much FLUFF

House : Hufflepuff

Year : fifth

Link of the casual outfit : https://drive.google.com/file/d/1eMCrdnjLtSN-6Xjysfvffq4HzeX-rJk_/view?usp=drivesdk

———————————————————————

Draco watched as his anger was getting too big that he felt that his body couldn’t contain it anymore , usually Draco could keep a straight face whatever any emotion he felt but at this moment he couldn’t , you were smiling at Potter being all friendly and such , leading his blood to boil , you were extremely friendly with the annoying Gryffindor!! Yes , he get it , Hufflepuff and all , being nice is the nature , that what made him attached to you in first place , but you were talking and being kind To HIS ENEMY ! You shouldn’t even be talking to him !! In first place !! You were his friend ! HIS !!! You should only talk to him not his enemies !!

“ hoho wow ... we are finally seeing emotions on malfoy face “ Theo couldn’t help but comment with a smug smirk as he earns a harsh scowl from the icy blonde boy “ shut it Nott or I swear the next thing that you will see is my shoes squishing your eyes “ “ he is right though Malfoy , your face is literally changing colours , expression , and literally your eyes are stuck on them ! “ Blaise commented more like stating fact ” that is true also !! , draco do you know what we are doing for this project ? ” pansy gave a questionable look to the pale boy, resulting in draco to run his hand in his hair as he breaths heavily , getting up from his chair “ since you all being Nosy Fucking Twats and it seems like you have plenty of time to blab why don’t you all continue on the project , yeah ? “ with that draco left with glare as he walked out of the library to cool off “ he got it so bad ......” Theo commented with a smirk “ yes completely ” earning an agreement from both Slytherins .

Draco went out , breathing deeply the fresh air , you were his friend and his hate for Harry was no secret for you and you were a Hufflepuff and that was no secret for Draco , he knows ‘ the moral code of the Hufflepuffs’ and how strong did you hold into them .

However what irritated and concerned Draco was you and Potter were friends. Before..... You and him even talked , he is fully aware of Potter ideas about slytherin and him....which leaded to a fear of losing you to him......

Does he trust your judgement? ...........of course he does , does he trust Potter ? Dear Salazar NO .... and that what worries him ... also the idea of you and Harry leaves a sour taste in his mouth , a strong one .

you were quite attractive and you had a decent personality And of course what will make the Gryffindor happier than making the slytherin ‘s life miserable!......... by taking you away from him and as much as he despised it, you and Potter are quite fitted for each other ......but no way in the name of Merlin ’s Bread he would give you to him!!

The slytherin prince now knew for sure that universe actually hated his guts cause just in this moment you and Potter walked out , you , smiling as harry is pointing out the stars while you are carrying a sketch book with your quil as you both admired the dark night sky .

Draco didn’t know what is the assignment was nor he cared about it in this moment , all he cared about was to hear what you and Potter talked about , as the way to do that was neither of you can see him . Causing him to blend with the darkness of the trees shadows

“ and you see here , two days from now we will see Jupiter's movement ! “ Harry explained excitingly causing you to smile “ yes i know !! However ........ I feel it would be hard to see from the astronomy tower as all fifth year students would be there for it ...... do you think we would able to glance it , write the essay and fill the star chart ......? “ you couldn’t help but voice your concerned leading Harry to think for a moment

“ Gryffindor tower !!” “ excuse me ........I meant ......say again..........? “ “ we can see it from the Gryffindor tower !!” “ wait really ??” “ yes , most of students won’t think of this “ “ well I’m sure Hermione did think of that “ you said while giggling a little , making Harry himself chuckle “ of course she would “ he said it , rolling his eyes jokingly as he continued “ we can of course go there .......if you have n-no problem I mean ........” “ of course ! Why would I have a problem in Helga ‘s name ? “ you said giving the chosen boy a big smile , making him grin himself “ excellent ! Meet me in front of the fat lady portrait !” ” you got yourself a deal potter ” you said seriously, resulting in him to chuckle ” beautiful deal I would say ” ” well that was smooth ” you said as you gave the boy in glasses a playful look ” really? I thought it was little sap ” yes kinda but still smooth ” ” ouch well I better go before I say more sappy stuff yeah? See ya tomorrow ” ” see ya!!” you both parted ways, not noticing the hidden boiling fire in the very dark.

Draco was furious and angry, he flirted with you AND YOU FLIRTED BACK !! HE ASKED YOU ON A DATE AND YOU ACCPET IT !! that is a project NOT A CHANCE FOR POTTER TO SNOG YOU !!!

He didn’t like what he saw , in fact, it resulted in leaving a huge fury to swallow his body , to him , it was you choosing Potter over him and it left a wound in the pale boy ‘s heart , like everyone else they would .... he didn’t know why it was hurting , .... it felt like you are leaving him behind .....and replacing him with what people always say, is better than him ........ Draco couldn’t control his emotions anymore resulting in him to run to the slytherin dungeon to be alone with his thoughts , he is not gonna give Potter what he always wanted .... which is a breakdown .

🌻————————-🌻

After two days passed , it was the weekend and Merlin , you didn’t wanna to wake up after a whole week the last day always seemed to be so hard but you needed to get up , no matter what , cause no one would Attend it for you .

An annoyed groan slips from your mouth as you jump out of the bed stretching and getting yourself into your yellow and black uniform , last day but one of the busiest , you have heavy school day not forgetting of course the meeting with Harry. However you were quite excited , you are gonna see the Jupiter movement clearly also you never saw the Gryffindor tower from inside so yes , maybe it will be a good day after all.

Walking out to your first class which was herbology a subject you completely adored , being with professor sprout cheerful personality and voice , some people fainting causing a giggle here and there , the whispers of the plants and finally , A current slytherin shared this class with you and being with him made the hardest things bearable , one of these is Snape class of course , with his help and quiet jokes he made you like it a little ,

Giggling at some old jokes Draco did through the classes you shared , you notice that you arrived to the green house .

You stood inside of the green house with Fanged Geranium sitting on the table showing her teeth in front Of you , as you hear the head of your house talking about the quality of it and how to deal with it , your eyes wondered to check on Draco .

You didn’t see him since you entered , you knew draco likes the green house , even though he would never admit it to the world , you saw the twinkle in his eyes when he is looking to the plants however he was no where in the sight ,

it is like the sky heard you or something and wanted to prove you wrong cause suddenly the door of green house opened quietly , revealing the white haired boy , walking as he bows to the older hufflepuff “oh good dear Helga ..... you are so late Mr.Malfoy !!!” “Im very knowledgeable about that Mrs sprout and I give you my apologies....” the older teacher couldn’t help but sigh “ fine , go take your plant next to Miss L/N .....please miss L/N ....update Mr. Malfoy about the topic ....For the rest , please work on your plants carefully ! I don’t wanna accidents !!! Not again !!!!! “

Even thought he looked perfectly put together , the slytherin ‘s face was looking yellowish , was he sick ? , thinking again - you never saw him yesterday at all ... was something going on ....? However you knew he didn’t like to be pressed for stuff so you just watch him as he took his place next to you ...

you give him the warmest comforting smile “ Draco good morning dear .......did you sleep well “ a nod , you get only a nod from the boy so you try to keep the conversation going “ well ... today we are assigned the plant of Fanged Geranium and we need - “ I actually know about it....... I read about it in a book before , you don’t need to waste your energy yeah? “ like that he cuts you off sharply and for some reason he seemed distance , you were weirded out by that kind of behavior but you thought maybe that is his morning attitude which eventually would disappear ...so you both continued to work in silence .

Soon the class ended , you hear Draco sigh as he walks away to his Slytherin friends , ignoring you completely which weirded you out , he never did that he would at least wave or something or make sure his hand brushed yours giving you a smirk ...his new behavior was weird ....you decided to let it to be , till it is lunch time for you both, -to give him a breath of time- , you will make sure to catch him and ask him about his act .

🌻————————🌻

Moving from class to class to class you were half done with the day ......finally Merlin ..........you were getting tired from all these classes as now you have the chance to eat for first time in the day as you skipped the frost meal in exchange of sleeping more , cause Dear Helga....... you were almost dead tired from the whole week and you needed these extra hours .

As you were running from the class , ready for the feast that will be served to your groaning stomach , you got faced by the crowded halls .

Trying to make your way through , you pumped into the slytherin prince, however before you open your mouth , he looked to you in the eyes then just walked away without of course forgetting to pump his shoulder into yours .........saying you were surprised would be underestimating .....what was this all about ...why he is being like that ....you were best friends ......well .....he was your best friend at least.......you were confused and somehow getting an anxious feelings in you Body . That you forget that you froze in mid of hallway till someone told you to move ,resulting into you falling back to the reality , shoving all bad feelings into the back of your head , you start to move to the grand hall .

You sat in the grand hall , Eating your food .......well..........trying , you don’t know what happened but somehow the food didn’t taste as amazing as you imagined or maybe you just lost your appetite, either how, you just ate the food cause your body was in desperate need of energy recharge and the least you need is to faint and let Harry do the work , he was your close friend and that wasn’t fair to anyone in first place .

While eating you glanced The Malfoy Boy , Getting up after finishing his food and going outside , you jump on your feet as fast as you can walking in hurry to catch up to him , as soon as you did , you both were in the halls . “ draco “ you called , no answer “ draco , it is rude to not answer me ! Stop being a child and talk to me “ these words made the pale boy stop in his heels and turn to face you with cold gaze “ wanna talk ? Sure let s talk then ! ”

You took a deep breath to calm your soaring Anger ...someone needed to be the grown up now “ why are you behaving like that !!! What is this all about !!!” “Oh you recall fully what is this all about ....!” You were stunned......... what did you do you? “ what do you mean?” “ well you know what ....forget it !!” “ you know you are not communicating right now !!! I wanna comprehend what is it !” “ oh if I’m not communicating well then why don’t you go to Potter, I’m sure he will fulfill this for you better !”

So this what all of this about ......... with this foolish rivalry!!!...“ draco you totally realize that he is a friend !! Yes, you both are not in best terms but he is still my friend !!” “ yes, but witch !!! being in good terms with him doesn’t mean , being flirtatiousness and snogging him in the gryfindor tower !!! “ “ you were spying on me !!!!” You were sick....you are feeling sick from how the Slytherin boy felt so entitled to spy on you , and question you !!!who does he think Himself is! “ I wasn’t spying , you were the ones who were in public“ “ but you chose to hear it!You were spying !!!” ”Well even if I did !! I was protecting you !! I DONT TRUST HIM “ “ well right now It is you who I don’t trust !!! ....this is not protection THIS YOU TRYING TO CONTROL MY LIFE !! IN WHAT ENTITLEMENT DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TO FEEL LIKE THAT IS YOUR RIGHT !! IM NOT SOMETHING TO BE OWNED !! I DESERVE RESPECT ! “ you quieted for a moment to take a breath from the pervious outburst before continuing “ And from this sorry .....but I don’t see that you have that for me and I don’t think I would like to be friends anymore “ Draco eyes widened at this for a second almost missing it out before his straight cold look came back “ fine as you wish “ with that he walked away , leaving you behind with tears dripping out of your eyes .

Draco rushed through the halls to reach his perfect room fast , he felt chocked by all crowds that started to fill the halls , he felt the tears already were about to come out and the last thing he needed was the whole school to witness Draco Malfoy crying about a girl that he doesn’t comprehend what he feel about her and hurt him , barely reaching the slytherin common room without breaking down . The slytherin boy shuttered the password out of his lips ,hurrying to his perfect bedroom ignoring the glances that he was getting from his house mates , locking the door as he finally let all his emotions out in the loneliness of his room not attending the rest of the day .

🌻----------------🌻

You were getting ready to meet Harry for astronomy project , trying to hold all the emotions inside, like you did for the rest of the day after the dilemma with Draco , you didn’t see him after and that was better for you , you didn’t know how will you react , you trusted him but he has no respect for you , he was acting like you are his doll not his equal .....he didn’t trust you , you felt so small and disrespected , you wanted to cry not cause of him no but cause you feel you trusted someone one who didn’t see you for who you are but saw your as object but you won’t let someone who thought like that stop your life , you looked at yourself noticing your outfit : a lacy off white blouse with lantern sleeves with Peter Pan collar . blue straight ankle length jeans and beige ankle boots ,

breathing a deep breath , you look put together and that is what you wanted , you didn't want anyone to notice your mood and the tears that slipped here and there , the last thing you need to hear ‘are you okay ‘ , cause you knew for sure these words will make you cry , and you don’t wanna to explain to Harry The Who stupidity of situation and causing more drama .

Rushing out of the warm dorm of the Hufflepuff common room to the halls as you walked fast to read the fat lady portrait praying to helga in her grave to not make you face to face with the slytherin boy , as you reach the painting you took a deep breath, Causing a look from the lady in painting , you felt for a second like you almost forgot to breath from how anxious you were till you feel a hand on your shoulder , causing you to turn , you see the brown haired boy with his famous smile as if it is contiguous you smiled without feeling “ did I make you wait for long?” “ oh no no no not at all !! I just came here ! “ “ so ummm shall we ?” You nod with a smile , the gryffindor muttered the password of the week , showing a grand hole as entrance, you both crawl inside of the Gryffindor room , taking the whole inside of you, the room was warm and cozy just missing some plants and It would be a copy of your own house room somehow that was calming .

The chosen boy was correct, not many people was there and of course Hermione was there with some Ravenclaw and Ron causing you to giggle a bit without feeling it , knowing what this was about Harry himself let an airy laugh “ yes yes you were correct ....now stop , she is giving us looks!! “ the boy whispered trying to hold his laughter , indeed the girl was giving you look like you both are crazy or something , as you both failed to hold your laughter , but it was quite humorous for some reason , some gryfindors were there with their groups but it was so few That you can count them on your fingers .

Both of you and Harry settled down close to the window , talking as you admired the stars, trying to fill the chart and waiting to see Jupiter movement “ god when the bloody hell will it show “ you couldn’t help but giggle as you hear Ron hearing him resulting to get a hit from Hermione “ he is right though Harry we have been waiting for long “ you said as you stretched your legs that almost were falling off from having them in same position for long “ “I think it will show soon ....” “ SHH it is happening !!” Hermione screamed on top of her lungs causing Ron to roll his eyes .

you watched......... memorised by the whole thing , it was marvellous thing ... all this beauty happening by nature ...nature amazed you with everything it provided and how beautifully it is done , you for sure won’t forget that ....

🌻----------------🌻

After long time of writing the essay , giggling at Ron foolishness , joking around , and helping each other in that pain in the arse assignment.... Yet it was somehow fun, painful work but fun .

later it was done ,Harry walked you to the painting and after huge back and forth, you convinced him that you would be fine going back to your room and nothing to be worried about.

you are now enjoying your walk to the hufflepuff common room , feeling the cold air and the soundlessness, cooling you, ......finally the weekend , done with the deadly assignment , sighing deeply , you realised you reached the entry , you play the rhythm to enter , ready to be welcomed by the talking plants and the warm room ,

This positivity get demolished by seeing a curtain blonde head youth sitting in front of the entry like a dog scolded by his owner , as soon as he sees you , he is quick on his feet , fixing his hair by running a hand in it

“ you are here .....y/n .....” “ ..........Malfoy ......” “ please don’t call me that ......” “ why it is your name , eh ? “ “y/n .........please......... don’t ........” you raise an eyebrow to him questionably , knowing your slient question, you see his face going from emotion to emotion to emotion as he tried to open his mouth to speak “I-I-I apologize for my foolishness and you are fully ........correct .....the way I behaved ...............childish was the way I acted ......I apologize again ......” draco sharp grey eyes was staring hard into your soul trying to read your face , try to see if you hated him or does he has any chance with your forgiveness .

You close your eyes breathing heavily for a second , you didn’t want to look into his eyes , you saw how swollen his bloody shot eyes were and he looked miserable however though some parts of you wanted to forgive the boy, you weren’t satisfied “draco .......the reason of your -“ “ I respect you ........way more than the words can tell .....and you totally deserve to know why this behavior..............it is not cause .....I don’t respect you no ..................it is cause some stupid silly emotions that let......me act like that -“ “ jealousy “

Gulping hard at the name of the emotion , Draco never felt jealous ever !! He is a Malfoy people felt jealous from him not the opposite what he wanted he got it , so this was a hard pill to swallow to him “ ...yes and had some fears.......... about potter.........and his thought about me ....resulting you .............to ........stop being with me ................. “ you held draco hands , finally realizing his feelings And for first time you see a rosiness tint on his cheeks , draco wasn’t very touching persona ....as he was so tense about it but he was used to it from you, later two years from knowing you nevertheless, he never flushed , he was accepting, awkwardly though , but no blushing , yet in his state you won’t point it out , it was already hard for him opening up and you appreciated and you wanna be comforting as you can as you try to calm his creeping anxiety . “ Draco I would never replace or leave cause someone opinion ever !! You mean so much to me !! I can’t imagine you out of my life ....you are very important and unreplaceable to me and thank you for apologising “ you say as you hug him , causing his body to go tense before warping his shaking arms around before squeezing you tightly as he bury his face in your shoulder , your run your hand in his soft messy hair as you hear him speak softly “ I discovered a new emotion also ....” “hmm ?” ..........Love..............”

__________________________________________

I don't know if there is going to be part two!! But I hope you all like this

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[rosesbxrry-main]

Todoroki Shoto with a Quirkless S/O [Female Reader]

Warnings: Contain NSFW content separately from SFW

SFW

He doesn’t really have a natural affinity for meeting new people other than them being affiliated with his school activities (which always includes them having a quirk). So if he were to meet you, it had to be through someone he knew

And that someone was Midoriya

He met you during his last year of UA high school when Midoriya had invited him together with Iida and Ochako to eat together at a restaurant after school

You were quite surprised to see your old classmate from middle school while working part time as a waitress at the restaurant

Midoriya was equally surprised as well when he saw you. You and him were the only quirkless students back in middle school and because of that, you guys were quite close to each other

He introduce you to the other three while you took their order

Todoroki’s first impression of you was friendly. The conversation you had with lida and Ochako flowed nicely despite meeting them for the first time

But your smile was what caught his eye. You seem genuinely happy to hear that Midoriya was fitting well in school and that he had made friends that cared about him

Todoroki listens silently throughout. But when the topic had turn about you, it took him awhile to realize that-

“Your quirkless”

His statement had no menace to it, no hint of mockery or a way to insult you. He had said it with the intention of confirming it with you.

Iida, Ochako and Midoriya seem to be quite shocked at Todoroki’s blunt statement. They stay frozen with mouth a gape, waiting for your reaction

You weren’t sure how to react to the male’s statement

Todoroki Shoto was definitely not a name you haven’t heard before. The son of the current number one hero and has the quirk of both ice and fire. Your first impression of him? Handsome. Quiet. And surely not someone you’ll associate with

But for some reason, his face held no insult, his heterochromia eyes full of curiosity as he stared back at you. For the first time in your life, you had never felt unashamed at those words

You had to leave the table to take their finished order and serve it to them. The unusually tension soon faded and you bid them farewell after their payment

“Did I say something wrong?” Todoroki soon find himself addressing them, brows furrowed  

“Well Todoroki-kun, although I know you mean well but-” Midoriya said, a hand rubbing the back of his head sheepishly “-Quirkless people aren’t really treated well in general”

Todoroki raised his eyebrows at this. He had never met a Quirkless person before so it never crossed his mind that you’ll feel hurt by his words. It made him feel a little restless knowing that he had offended you in any way possible

That was precisely why he finds himself at the entrance of the same restaurant the next day

You were quite surprised to see Todoroki standing there alone. You assumed he came with Midoriya and the others but they were not in sight

“Sorry about yesterday” He bowed slightly at you, he’s apology was curt but you knew he meant about the comment he said about you being Quirkless

You wave your hands at him, “Ah- no no- it’s okay, I didn’t feel offended if that’s what you thought”

You reassure him with a small smile but it seems that it wasn’t enough to him, his lips still curved into a frown

An idea came into mind and you check the time at the watch on your wrist

“Well it makes you feel better…..” Todoroki’s eyes perk at your suggestion “……my shift ends in another 15 minutes, and I know a good bakery that sells some good cakes…”

Todoroki nodded with no hesitation “My treat”

Soon, you guy’s little amendment situation becomes a regular occurrence in your lives. Other than the bakery, there were other places where the two of you would sit (with snacks that Todoroki insisted he paid) and have small talks until it reach curfew time

There were some days where he doesn’t show up at the restaurant after your shift, which you silently knew that he was busy with school stuff

Though you mostly did the talking, Todoroki actually enjoyed hearing about your mundane life. You rant about your grades, friends and sometimes random trivial matters that he found rather interesting

“Sorry” You said, scratching your cheeks with a bashful smile “I’m probably boring you with my stories”

Todoroki shook his head “No, I like hearing your stories”

Taken aback, you felt something churn at the pit of your stomach, something you haven’t felt for a while since the day you had to present in front of the whole class or whenever you see your crush at the hallway back in middle school

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered more aggressively everyday as the weeks and months goes by

Unbeknownst to you, Todoroki felt the same fluttering as well. He liked you but it seems he’s mind couldn’t comprehend the emotion very clearly. So, imagine the shock on Fuyumi’s face when he ask her about the situation

“I like to hear her talk. Everyday, after school, there is always a sense of relief whenever I see her smiling at me and days where I couldn’t see her-“ Todoroki placed a palm on his beating heart “There is a tight feeling in my chest that makes it hard to breath. Is that normal?”

Fuyumi lips were in a tight line “I think your in love Shoto”

“Love….?” Poor boy, he had mixed feelings about this new emotion. With everything he had gone through during his childhood, every emotion was rigid to him. He doesn’t even know if you share the same feelings with him

But, he was no longer the 16 year old boy focusing solely on his goal. He wants to understand. He has to know.

So that was precisely what he did. He confess to you at the entrance of the train station that you both usually part ways the next day

He watch the confused expression on your face, mouth agape to process his words and finally, the tip of your ears turn a dark shade of red, finally digesting his confession

“A-Are you-confessing?- to m-me, like- r-right now?!” You stuttered, brain still processing his words

With palm sweating and heart racing, Todoroki stood firm “You can reject me if that’s what you really want. I-”

“NO! I like you to Todoroki-kun!” You almost shout, before realizing that you guys were still in public. A few bystanders stared and you never felt so embarrassed in your life.

Todoroki’s eyes widen a bit. He expected you to reject him but now that you clearly share the same feelings with him, he honestly doesn’t know what to do next

“Oh” was his only reply

Let’s just say that the both of you came home, face redden and sleep was not an option with minds still fill with each other

Dating Todoroki was definitely a slow burn process and takes a while for the both of you to be comfortable

Affectionate gesture was something that you try to slowly introduce to him but soon the actions came natural to the both you

Hugging? No problem. Hand holding? A natural. Kissing? still needs a bit more work but it’s definitely for special occasions

As the years progress, the relationship between the two of you has progressed deeper. He had met your parents and friends, vice versa he had introduce you to his friends and more importantly, to his mother

It was after the first visit with his mother did he pour out to you the truth about his childhood and his father. You silently listen with eyes watered at the living room of your apartment before engulfing him in a tight hug

“Thank you for trusting me Shoto”

He buried his face at the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of home from you and at that moment, he never felt so whole in his life

He was quite sure of himself that he would keep you hidden from his father as long as he can. But Endeavor probably has heard about you through Fuyumi and his mother at some point.

So when Todoroki told you about his father inviting you to dinner at the Todoroki minor, you accepted it much to his dismay.

“Are you sure Y/N? I guarantee you his intention is more than wanting to meet you”

“Don’t worry Shoto, I think it’s time he face the fact that his future daughter-in-law is going to be Quirkless”

You don’t know how much pride bloom in him at your words and he can’t help the small smile forming on his face

Fuyumi greeted the both of you with warm and gleeful smiles, ushering the both you to sit at the dining room

Natsuo was already there as Todoroki introduced you to him. You were happy to know that Todoroki maintain a good relationship with his older siblings

Natsuo was as welcoming as Fuyumi was with you, asking you about your studies and making small talks as Fuyumi continue to pile plates of food onto the table

The sound of footsteps reach the living room, causing both Natsuo and Shoto’s face harden as the sliding screen door to the dining room open, revealing the towering figure of Enji Todoroki

“I see. so you must be-” His turquoise colour eyes bored holes into your figure before switching his gaze to his youngest’s son, and back to you

“-Shoto’s girlfriend”

You swallowed a bit. He was much more intimidating than you had expected but you push your nervousness at the back of your mind

“It’s very nice to meet you Todoroki-san” You bowed your head in greeting with a small smile, hoping to ease the tension building up

“Likewise” His tone was definitely not reflecting his words

Dinner was the 2nd most awkward situation you had even been (Todoroki’s confession being the cherry on top). You were glad that Fuyumi was trying to lighten up the mood a bit by asking you about yourself

“Medical school is more challenging than expected, since most of the students have special skills that would benefit them in the field” You explained when she ask about medical school

“I would be more surprised if you had it easy, especially since you lack what others have”  

Ah yes, the calm before the storm

You place a reassuring hand on top Shoto’s fisted ones under the table.

“I reassure you Todoroki-san, our society once lacked the skills we have now. I know it wouldn’t be easy but not entirely impossible for someone like me”

“Do you take pride in being Quirkless?”

Here comes the storm

If Shoto was angry before, now he was livid. How dare he-

“I do actually” You said, you could feel the temperature rising inside you. But you need to stay calm.

“Did your parents tell you that?” He ask, gaze now adverted to his bowl of food, clearly scorning at your comeback “How disappointing”

You push the wrath slowly invading the hollows of your throat, aching to yell at him (and punching him, but that will only trigger your boyfriend to be involved in the brawl and the last thing you need is having the house on fire) but you it swallowed back.

“I believe my parents said that out of respect and love for me to have a happy childhood. And they don’t need to be the strongest hero in order to do that”

Natsuo chokes on his food, a small smirk evident on his face as Fuyumi panickily hands him a drink to help, patting his back. Endeavor’s face slowly comes to realize with what you had meant and boy was he not happy.

Shoto was having a blast honestly

You were light on your feet as Shoto walked you home after the dinner. You skipped merrily and swung your hand that was intertwined with his. He laugh at your clearly satisfied grinned, content with the idea of having to spend the rest of his life with you 

NSFW (warning. contain breeding kink, vaginal penetration, temperature play and other intercourse actions)

Of course, being in a relationship for at least 2 years have allowed the both of you to be more comfortable with intimacy

There were a few situation that causes Todoroki to be more aware of your body and awakening his sexual desire for you

The way he becomes flustered when you hold his hand against your body and how he could feel your soft breast pressing on his upper arm

Or when the both of you would hang out together at your apartment in a very hot summer, with you sporting a tank top and shorts that reveal so much of your skin that it was hard for him to look away

Todoroki decided to book a 2 days trip to a hot spring. Since the both of you had been really busy pursuing your own career, he thought, it might be a good idea for a short break

He waited outside of the changing room for you, having been done soaking in the hot spring

But when he saw you exit, hair tied in a bun, face glowing from the heat of the hot spring, he couldn’t help but stare at how ethereal you look at the moment

“Shoto?” You question him when he didn’t respond, a hand reaching to place itself on his cheek. The skin contact causes him to flinch out of his frozen state

“Huh?”

“I ask you if you wanna go and drink some cold milk?”

He stared at your lips as it moved, how sensual and plump it looked. He wants it against his

He reach out to place a hand on top of yours, standing up to walk closer to you until his forehead rest against yours

You open your mouth to ask him what was wrong but when he kiss you with a bit more force than you were used to, the words died down

A hand was placed at your hip, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. He took your surprise as an advantage to enter his tongue into you

You could feel the temperature rising at the heated make out session. His tongue caressing every inch of the inside of your mouth, moaning lightly when he made contact with your tongue

Your other hand squeeze the fabric of yukata on his chest, a sign to him that you were at the limit of your breath

Before he broke the kiss, he made sure to nibble and suck on the lower part of your lips, causing you to moan at the pleasure

Flushed and clearly shaking at the intensity of the make out session, there was a thick sexual tension in the air as you watch a string of saliva connecting each other’s lips

“I think we should head back to our room” He breath out, his eyes filled with hunger and thirst to feel you against him

The two of you were virgins and it was the first time the both of you had sex

There was a lot of learning at the beginning of it but it was definitely something when tasted a little bit, the both of you will never stop

The hardest hurdle that Todoroki had to face was the fact that his stamina and intensity was much more than yours, given that he was a hero

So there was a fear that he might hurt you by accident when he was too into it, especially since he was naturally a more dominant type

You had to reassure him several times because of that, telling him how good you felt when he thrust into you hard or when his tongue and lips would never stop sucking and licking your overwhelmingly soak folds

Something he enjoys to do, you notice, is how he likes to leave marks and hickeys on you, decorating every crevasses on your body like your neck, thighs and breast. Sometimes while showering, you would find random bite marks or hickey at hidden places you didn’t know

Temperature play is also something the both you enjoy (especially you). The feeling of his hot tongue licking your left nipple while his cold fingers were tugging on your right. Or when he would do the same while eating your pussy and rubbing your clit at the same time. It always brings you to cloud nine

Riding him is definitely a treat for him. He likes to see your face contract at the pleasure of his dick stroking at the exact spot that pushes you to edge. He likes to watch you moan his name as he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper into him as you bounce harder to meet his pace.  

Todoroki absolutely loves to watch the view of his cum dripping down your pussy after the both of you have climaxed. This was something he would do before he cleans you up, and quite frankly, it’s always the cause of round 2

If the two of you are planning to have kids together, he most likely would develop a breeding kink

“Fuck- you’re gonna look so beautiful all round with my baby” Todoroki thrust harder, his pace quickening as the both you are close to climaxing

He press his chest flush to you back, causing you to choke on your saliva at how good it felt

“Cum inside me Sho- I want you to fill me up with your seed. Make me full with your load” You moan out, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turns white

“You want my cum baby- don’t worry, I’m gonna flood your pretty little pussy and breed you properly”

You’re in one hell of a ride

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

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

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

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

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

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

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

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

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

March: the arrival,

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

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

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He crossed his arms over his chest.

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

“Are you only with me for sex?”

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

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

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

“No, I’m putting my foot down.”

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

“Too,” he repeated firmly. “Too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is exactly what I want to hear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

“May I ask what for?”

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

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

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

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

“Ransom!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He abruptly threw you up over his shoulder.

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

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

“You’re such an ass! I have to—”

He silenced you by pulling off his T-shirt.

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

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

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

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

“You are not serious.”

“I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. “You have money?”

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

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

He sighed. “Y/N, suck my cock.”

You shrugged. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right, I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

“I’m not joking.”

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

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

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

He smirked. “I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ride me,” he ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Say what?” you choked out.

“You know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” he said softly.

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

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

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

He shrugged his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “I promise, I will not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

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

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

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

“He’s in the kitchen,” Joni informed.

“Great, we can head that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lifted your eyebrows at Ransom.

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

You turned to her. “Are you—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meg, can we have a minute?”

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

“Um,” she started, shifting awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey—”

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

“She’s my mom—”

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

“That’s not why I had sex with you—”

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

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

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

“I didn’t lie—”

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

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go to the store.”

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

“Can we talk about this later?”

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

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

April: the parents’ bedroom,

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

Not the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Ransom?”

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

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

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

“Just a headache. Not a big deal.”

“Not trying to be an ass—”

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

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want to talk much either.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

“Yes, great cover. So convincing.”

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

You lifted your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

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

“You made me sleep without you—!”

“That was not what you think!”

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

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

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

He rolled his eyes. “Doubt that.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell?” you demanded.

“This fight is over.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

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

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

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

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“You went behind my back, Ransom.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

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

“This is your fucking home!”

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

“She apologized!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed.

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

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

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

He threw his arms up. “For what?!”

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

“She would have known that I told you.”

“And?!”

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

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

“No, you’re not!”

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

“You love me!”

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

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

“You are tearing them, you ass!”

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

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered.

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

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

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

“I changed the sheets this morning.”

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

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

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

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“None of your business.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

You blinked once, twice. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “Eww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

He pushed his third finger as slowly as he could.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yourself,” he told you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think you deserve it, baby?”

“Please make me come,” you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May: the anniversary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Ransom.”

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

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

“Right?”

“You talking about your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom,” you warned.

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

“Maybe she did.”

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

“She’s not blackmailing him.”

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

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

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

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

“What? Were you expecting something else?”

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

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

“No, it wouldn’t,” you argued.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am,” you declared.

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

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

“So, you’re saying I seduced you?”

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

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

“A bit,” you admitted.

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

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

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

June: the affair,

Until June rolled around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell happened?” Ransom demanded.

You glared at him. “Where were you?”

“I was out for a walk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August: the book,

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

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

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

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

Did he ever love you?

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

Did you let this happen?

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

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

What did that mean?

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

Nothing. Everything was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

“What? What do you need?”

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Are you out of your mind?!”

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

“I’m not cheating on you!”

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

He paused at that.

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

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

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

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

“You are crazy,” he asserted.

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

You dove forward, just inches from the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let it go!” you shrieked.

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

“Not anymore, cheater!”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you!”

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

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

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

“Because I hate my family,” he reminded.

“And clearly, you hate me!”

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

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

“I’m not cheating!”

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

“I am not cheating!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“I’m writing a book!” he hissed.

You froze. He was what?

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

“Get off me.”

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

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

A book?

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

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

You held the laptop out to him.

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

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

“I have to go get Jacob’s cake.”

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

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

October: Ransom’s birthday,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

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

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

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

“I know…I was going to.”

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

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

“Others? What are you talking about?”

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

“Okay…what’s the series about?”

“A woman.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“God, Ransom, I was really hurt.”

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

“Well, can I read some of it?”

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

“I saw dating apps, Ransom.”

“After we talked about my parents—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re getting closer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your cheek to prevent a smile.

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

You hummed.

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

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

“He loves her skin,” he asserted.

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

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

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

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

“You wrote that?” you breathed.

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

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

“Well, mine have sex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed. “But she kills him?”

“Well, she’s a complex woman.”

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

He arched an eyebrow.

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

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

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

“Does she love him?” you wondered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “He thinks so.”

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

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

“But does he?” you pressed.

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

“Are you fucking serious!?”

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

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

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

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

November: thanksgiving,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glared.

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

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

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

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

“I have a charity picked,” Jacob informed.

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

“Can’t I pick my own?” he pressed.

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

“Yeah,” Walt echoed. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“And we’re back,” Richard muttered.

Donna’s head snapped in his direction.

“Okay,” you interjected. “Joni?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, mine is—”

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

“Linda, please,” Richard sighed.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shut up!” Linda barked.

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

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

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

Linda’s mouth dropped.

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

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

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

You smiled at Ransom. “You are perfect.”

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

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

You glanced at Ransom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You asked if it was a good idea.”

“I think it is.”

“Then why did you ask me at all?”

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

“We are not getting Jacob a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate dogs.”

“Well, I hate you,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three? For what?”

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

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

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

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

“That is normal flour, Ransom.”

“No,” he argued. “No, it’s not.”

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

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

“You could have ordered them!”

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

“Ransom, make the pie crusts!”

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

“What does toss mean?”

“What?”

“It says to toss the ingredients.”

“Um, like, stir, I guess.”

“You guess or you know?”

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

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

You turned back, eyes wide. “Ransom!”

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

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

“I don’t like touching butter!”

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

“I’m not touching it,” he claimed.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to cut them?”

“And peel them.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“Ransom, I’m about to smack you.”

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

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

“And you’re going to cook alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not!”

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

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

“You’re ruining it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, just stay down,” Jacob said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stole my house!” she screeched.

“Linda!” Richard scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He held his hand up to you. “Don’t.”

“But—”

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

“I…threw a cookie at her.”

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

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

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

“What did we gain, Ransom?”

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

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else?”

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

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

“That was exactly what I was thinking.”

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

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

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

“Is everyone okay?”

“They’ll live.”

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

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

“We kinda ruined Thanksgiving dinner.”

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

“All three?”

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

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

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

You laughed. “Your family is insane.”

“And clearly, you fit right in.”

“Clearly,” you muttered. Unfortunately.

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

“Are your fucking hands broken?!”

“I’m holding the box!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t want them here!”

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

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

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

He glared. “I hate you.”

“I hate you!” you seethed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are such a fucking brat.”

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

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

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

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

“What the hell does that mean?”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know!” he admitted.

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

He laughed.

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

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

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

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

“The courthouse?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why call when you could Facetime?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. You!” you growled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Say yes.”

“No.”

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you.”

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

From outside, the dogs started to bark.

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

He pulled out and rushed from the bathroom.

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

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

“Ransom?”

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

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

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got me more puppies?” Linda inquired.

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

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

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

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

He turned to you with a sigh.

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

“It’s okay,” he assured.

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

“What?” Joni cut in.

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

“Wife?” Linda repeated.

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

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

Ransom rolled his eyes.

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

“Which one is ours?” you wondered.

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

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

“The pound, obviously.”

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

Once again, the room echoed with disgusted sounds.

“Which one’s mine?” Meg wondered.

“I couldn’t care less,” he admitted.

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

Ransom gave you an expectant look.

“I love you?” you tried.

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

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

chris tags:

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

ransom tags:

@la-cey​

[sapnxps]

(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

[topazy]

The Fierce And Broken

1.07

Master list

“It's been a few days. Maybe the bomb at the bridge scared them off?”

Bellamy raised his eyebrows at Clarke, “do you really think that?” She shook her head, Bellamy turned to face you. “What about you? Do you think the grounders have been scared off?”

“No.” You admitted, “I think they are planning on how to attack us. Not that it will take them long.”

Clarke frowned, “what do you mean?”

You sighed standing up. “From what I’ve been told the grounders have already got biological warfare nailed, I imagine they have other tricks up their sleeves. It’s amazing how advanced they are without technology. I think we should- is something amusing?”

You and Bellamy both turned to look at Clarke who had a strange look on her face. She shook her head, “no sorry...i just never realised you were such a fan of the grounders.”

What was her problem? You ignored her comment and continued talking. “We need to be prepared, I think you need to find out what people’s strengths are fast.”

Bellamy seemed intrigued by your suggestion. So far they hadn't come up with a better idea. You weren’t invited to the ‘leaders meeting’ but you’d overheard them talking. Since you were in the next room checking what medical supplies the camp still had, you had since been dragged into the conversation because Bellamy wouldn’t stop asking your opinion on things. “What do you suggest Al?”

You quirk a brow suddenly feeling a mixture of emotions, was this your chance to finally make a difference around camp? Bellamy had done the best he could but to survive the grounders you needed to be more organised. An idea that is easier thought than done. “Well, we need to know who should be on the frontline.” Clarke made a scoffing noise. “Any of us could fight if it came to it, but that doesn’t mean we should. Monty and Raven are far too useful to risk losing. Me and Clarke are the only people with medical training. We need to utilise people to the best of their abilities.” You shot a glance at Clarke, “or not.”

“It’s the best idea we have got so far,” Bellamy stood up. “I’ll get Octavia to help me make a list of everyone and what they are best at.”

You smiled at him before walking out of the drop-ship. For all his flaws he wasn’t a bad guy, Bellamy had done some reckless things that you didn’t agree with, but he was trying his best. At least he was open to hearing what you had to say.

______

You stepped inside the tent Raven was currently in, and unsurprisingly she was working hard. “Hey, genius.”

She turned to you and smiled, “hi Al.”

Ever since Raven had broken up with Finn you had been worried about her, she seemed fine but it could have just been an act. She told you how Finn said he loved her, but Raven ended it with him anyway. You were proud of her. Your friend respected herself enough to know when to call it a day, something you wished you could have done for yourself.

“Earth to Alba,” you looked straight ahead to see Raven wavering her hands in front of you. “Sorry, I completely zoned out. What were you saying?”

Raven smiled and motioned for you to sit down next to her. Once you were seated she repeated her previous question. “I was asking how your morning has been? You were gone by the time I woke up, usually I need to shake you awake.”

You chuckled at her comment. Raven had shared a tent with you most nights, apart from the one night when she spent the night with Finn. “I got up early to check on Murphy, his finger nails are finally starting to grow back.”

Raven pulled a face, “that’s so gross.”

You shrugged, “I’ve seen worse.”

The brunette smiled at you, and shook her head before turning back to the table in front of her. “Murphy is lucky to have you, nobody else would stick their necks out for him.”

“He was a good friend to me on the ark, he was there when-let’s just say whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on he was it.”

On the ark your parents used to joke Murphy was secretly your older brother. The two of you could be fighting like cat and dog one minute them playing like best friends the next as children. Regardless of what age you were, you and Murphy always had each other’s back.

“Like I said, he’s lucky to have you.” Raven paused before continuing, “we aren’t on the ark anymore...you have more than one friend down here. I’m always here if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

You opened your mouth to reply when Finn barged into the tent. He walked towards Raven and leaned down to see what she was building. “What's for dinner?”

Raven glanced up at him. Split loads, turning one bullet into two. It's all I can do until we get more gunpowder. Jasper has a recipe. Yesterday I saw him taking buckets from the latrine. I didn't ask.”

You felt uncomfortable. The calm atmosphere had changed the moment Finn entered the tent. Raven’s positive attitude had shifted, she now seemed pissed.

Finn obviously hadn’t of noticed because he kept talking. “Is one of those for me?”

“Maybe. Still deciding.”

He cleared his throat, “I keep wanting to apologize again.”

Oh. This was awkward. You cleared your throat, “I can give you guys a minute.”

Raven sighed, “You don't have to.” You weren’t sure if she was talking to you or Finn, but the pleading look on her face made you stay. “We're good. I’ve got to get this done.”

Finn shook his head, “that's bad.”

“What?” The volume of Raven’s voice surprised you. It was getting higher each time she spoke.

“When you're really pissed off, you always find a project, something to keep your hands busy so you don't punch someone in the face.”

The brunette frowned, “I'm not keeping busy, Finn. I'm keeping us alive.”

“Yeah. You're right.” Finn mumbled under his breath, “That was a dumb thing to say. See you later.”

You see Raven’s face fall. She looked hurt. “Wait. We're good. We're good. We are. I just want you to be happy.”

“Fire! Help fire!”

You ran out of the tent and towards the smoke. You were relieved to see Octavia and Murphy both stumble out of the tent. You noticed the furious look on Murphy’s face, Murphy was now standing toe to toe with Del. “This is all your fault! We told you it was too much wood.”

Del shoved him, “get the hell away from me!”

You were standing by Octavia’s side and rubbed her back as she continued to cough. Bellamy jumped in between the two boys before a fight could escalate. “Hey! Hey! Hey, stop! Save it for the Grounders.”

Octavia stepped away from you and towards her brother. “Well, now what the hell are we gonna do? That was all the food.”

Clarke stormed over shaking her head. “Any idea what happened?”

“Murphy says that Del kept feeding the fire, mostly because Octavia told him it was a bad idea.” Bellamy explained while glaring at Del.

Clarke scoffed, “And we believe Murphy?”

You answered her frowning, “yes. I’m sure O will say the same.”

The Griffin girl shook her head. “Whatever, we need to get more food. Anyone we can spare goes out.”

______

Delinquents gathered round to hear what Bellamy had to say. “Each group takes someone with a gun, and they're for killing Grounders, not food. We don't have the ammo. Use the spears for hunting. Get what you can. Be back by nightfall. No one stays out after dark.”

You eyed others in the camp as the split off into pairs. Your eyes landed on a head of blonde hair, oh great. It was only you and Clarke left. Sighing you went to walk towards her when you felt somebody’s hand on your shoulder.

Turning around you saw Raven staring at you with a worried look on her face. “You shouldn’t be going, the camp needs a medic. What if somebody becomes ill.”

She had a point. Thinking back to your previous conversation with Clarke and Bellamy, you knew what you had to do. Turning away from your friend you faced Clarke. “Hey Griffin,” you said walking towards her. “One of us needs to stay here, and I think it should be you.” She looked at you surprised. “You are the better medic, and the camp needs you.”

She pressed her lips together into a thin line before reluctantly agreeing. “Okay, be safe out there.”

You nodded and turned back to see Raven staring at you with a disappointed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Clarke is more useful to this place than I am, she’s need here more than me.” You answered honestly.

Raven’s face twisted. “That’s not true. Octavia and Murphy need you, I need you here. You should have just let Clarke go.”

Running your hand through you’re hair, you let out a deep breath. Truthfully you didn’t want to go hunting, the idea of grounders attacking petrified you. But you needed to be brave. “I’ll be fine, and back before you know it.”

Raven’s expression softened as she pulled you into a hug. “Please be safe.”

“I will.” You pulled back from the hug, “I’ll be excited to see whatever badass creation you have made by the time I returned.”

She smiled hesitantly before returning to her previous job of making bullets.

Myles walked towards you. “Hey Y/N. You alone? You maybe want to go together?”

You pondered for a moment if it was a good idea to hunt with him. You had hated him for what he did to Murphy, but in times of war it was better to let go of grudges. “Sure. I'll get some gear.”

As you started collecting what you need Finn approached you. “Hey, you ready to go?”

Confused you studied him, “are you coming with us?”

Finn let out a chuckle. “You're lousy with a spear, but you're sneaky. We would make a good team.”

“And?”

“And Clarke says I’m to keep you safe, and so did Octavia. She actually threatened me.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed. “I’m also terrible at tracking, so you will come in handy.”

Myles joined you once again. “Hey, partner, we're wasting daylight. Oh, Finn, you're joining the band?”

He nodded, “yip.”

You glanced back one more time before exiting the gates as Myles started telling the story of how he got arrested on the ark.

______

Myles looked around trying to figure where the animal went. “Is is one of those scaly panther things?

Finn looked at him, “bore.”

“Good,” Myles did relived. “Because that panther meat is nasty, but I could eat a whole boar by myself, no joke. You know what the best part is of the boar? It's gonna sound gross.”

You stopped walking and turned to face them, you had noticed the look on Finn’s face. “Guys, quiet for a second. What is it?”

Finn crouched down to inspected the ground better. “These tracks. They're perfect.”

A knot twisted in the pit of your stomach, this was bad. “It’s too perfect.”

Standing up, Finn spoke in a low voice. “We're the ones being hunted.”

You looked up at the tree lines and the bushes where you stood. I’d the grounders where there they where well hidden. “I don't see anything.”

The moment the words came out of your mouth arrows started flying in your direction. You and Finn managed to dodge some, but Myles got hit. A arrow landed in his leg before a second one hit him in the chest.

Myles screamed out in pain. You tried to help him but Finn pulled you back. “Al, come on. We got to leave him.”

You went to argue that you couldn’t leave him behind when something heavy hit you on the back of the head. The last thing you remember is Finn screaming your name before landing on the ground.

______

You awoke to a grounder screaming in your face. He tied your hands and began dragging you along behind him as he road his horse. You felt a wave of relief seeing Finn was tied up beside you.

After a while the grounders stopped when you reached a grounder outpost. Finn nudged you, “We walked for about three miles after crossing that creek, another two or so before we got to the road.”

“I don't think it matters, Finn. They didn't blindfold us, which means they don't care what we saw. They're probably gonna kill us. What do you want from us?”

A grounder opened the door to revile a wounded child laying on a bed. Anya stepped out in front of you. “Help her. If she dies, he does. Her name is Tris.”

You shook your head and took a couple of steps back. “I can't do this. I don't have any equipment.”

Anya eyed you suspiciously. “We'll provide you with what we can Alba of Skaikru.”

“Why do you think I can save her?”

Finn let out a frustrated sigh, “Lincoln told her.”

Anya nodded confirming his theory. “Yes. Our healer is gone. There's nothing we can do for her.” She pointed at Finn. “For his sake, I hope you can.”

Finn grabbed you by the shoulders. “Al, you can do this.”

You bit on your bottom lip, “What happened to her?”

The grounder leader pulled a face of disgust. “She was on the bridge when your bomb exploded. Your people did this to her.”

“How could you send a little girl into battle? What is wrong with you people?” You asked bewildered.

Anya remained expressionless. “She was with me. She was my second. It's how we train them to be warriors.”

“Oh, so the killing can just go on and on.” You quipped back.

“Your people the bomb on the bridge. You did this to her.” As Anya spoke Tris began gasping for air. “Help her!”

You studied the young girl for a moment trying to asses her. Her skin was calmly, she had chills and was sweating. You pressed your hand on her chest to feel how fast her heart was beating. Tris was septic. “She needs clean blood.”

Finn looked at you worried, “A transfusion?”

You rummaged around the room for anything useful. “There's no tubing!” You turned to face the grounders. “We need a syringe, the biggest one you can find, and I need a cannula. It's like a hollow needle.”

One of the grounders eventually handed you ‘equipment’ you could work with. You times to face Anya, “Ok. I'm gonna need your blood.”

“No.”

“You're from the same tribe. It's the best match we're gonna get.” You tried your best to explain why you needed their blood, but all the grounders refused.

“Alba, if you're gonna do something, you have to do it now. Just use mine.” Finn rolled up his sleeve for you to tie a tourniquet around it.

Tris let out a whine of pain that didn’t sound normal. Shit. You knew she was dying but stilled tried your best. “I can't find a vein.”

“Al...”

“Oh, come on.” You continued to look frantically before eventually giving up.

“She's not breathing.” A grounder spat.

Anya raised her hand, “take him away and kill him.”

“No. No. No. No! No. No.” You protested, and fought against the grounder holding you “I did everything I could. No!”

Finn shouted as he was dragged away. “Alba, stop. They'll hurt you.”

______

“Anya will take no pleasure in your friend's death.” Caliban one of the grounders from before spoke. “Prove your worth, and you'll be welcome here.”

You squinted at him confused. “I couldn't save Tris. Why would you want me?”

“We told you. Our healer is gone.”

Maybe this bizarre offer could work in your favour. You might have the chance to get back to camp and warm the others. “Will I be able to go back to see them... my friends, my home?”

He let out a wicked laugh, “tomorrow there'll be nothing to go back to.”

Dame it. All you could do now was try and distract him. “Those marks on her shoulder, what were they? Lincoln has them, too.”

Caliban pulled his top down to reveille his own. “Each scar marks a kill in combat.”

“She had five kills?” He nodded. “She was a little girl.”

“She was brave.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You have a lot of them.”

“And half were after I hurt my knee.”

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Is your commander really going to kill my friend? And the rest of my people?”

The grounder explained in detail what would happen to Finn, then how they would attack ‘Skaikru’. Panicked, you kicked Caliban in the knee and used the scalpel to slit his throat. You sobbed out a apology before watching him die. The moment the realisation of what you done sunk in you threw up, but quickly pulled yourself together.

Not knowing where Finn was you started running in the direction towards camp.

[animeyanderelover]

Canyou write number 26 to Alois trancy?

What a fun prompt to use for him. Just remember that Alois will be aged up in this.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, bipolar behavior, manipulation, delusions, paranoia death, kidnapping

Prompt 26: “...Why do you cry?! Who made you cry?! Tell me their fucking names so I can rip their heads off for making my angel cry!!!”

“(y/n)!! Why are you visi-“ Alois stopped his excited rambling the moment he saw your crying face. His eyes widened shocked before a dark and dangerous look crossed his face. “...Why do you cry?! Who made you cry?! Tell me their fucking names so I can rip their heads off for making my angel cry!!!” His voice was filled with hatred and rage to whoever made you this way. “Can I-can I first come in?”, you sobbed. Alois quickly let you in. “Can I do something to help you?! Tell me what I have to do to make you feel better!! I’ll do anything!!” You shook your head quietly, nothing could help you right now. “Claude!! Come here immediately!!”, Alois called his golden eyed butler who appeared only seconds later. “Yes your highness?” “What can I do to help her?!” Claude raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise. “I suppose you should listen what exactly made her upset. A tea to calm her nerves down wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”, he answered. “Then start working!! Make her a tea!!”, Alois yelled at him. Claude bowed and left the both of you alone. “Let’s bring you to my room so we can talk in private!!”

“And-and if I don’t p-pay the money back in-in a week I-I’ll have to close my shop. B-but then I won’t b-be able to pay my-my rent.” What had happened you might ask? Let’s start from the beginning. Your day had actually started like every other. You had stood up and had started working in the little bakery you owned. Like every day you had sold the many sweets and other things you always made for your costumers. But today someone else had visited your bakery. Who? Some noble from whom you had read in the newspaper before. A very rich and arrogant lady. You hadn’t known why she was here, but you only knew that you had to be careful now because one wrong move might ruin your business. You had asked her politely what she had wanted. She had ordered cake and tea and had sat down in your shop. During the whole time you had been a nervous mess, but you had managed to serve anything without making yourself look like a fool. Everything had looked perfect until you had served another of your costumers tea. That was when it had happened. You had been so loaded with tea and cake at that moment that you hadn’t really seen what was going on in front of you and one thing had led to another and suddenly you had tripped over your own feet and had everything you had been holding in your hands flying. And it had all landed on the noble lady, ruining her expensive looking dress. To say that you had been scared was an understatement, the look that she had been giving you was enough to tell you that you had doomed yourself. She had screamed at you in front of all of your costumers that you would pay for this dress, but when you had heard how expensive it really was you had begged her to show mercy and she had given you one week to earn enough money or else she would make you close your little shop. But how the hell were you supposed to earn that much money by selling your cakes in just a week?!

Alois hadn’t spoken a word, just listening and letting you cry in his shoulder. “I’ll pay.”, he suddenly said. You looked surprised up. “A-Alois! You don’t have to pay! I was the one who messed everything up and-“ He interrupted you by putting his index finger over your lips. “(y/n), money is really not the problem with me. I would be more than happy to help you with your problem so just let me handle everything.” The look written on his face told you that he would do it even if you would tell him not to. “Thank you! How can I pay you back for this?” Alois seemed to think about it for a while before answering:”Promise me to visit me more often! And bring some of your cakes with you! They’re delicious!” You nodded, feeling more than thankful to have Alois as your friend. “Of course! You’re the best!” Alois face brightened up when he heard this. “You’re the best thing in my life too! You’ll stay forever with me, right?!” When he asked this he grabbed your hands firmly and had a bit more desperate tone to his voice. It wasn’t the first time that he had asked you such a question. Sometimes he needed reassurance from you since he was really scared to lose you. “Of course Alois. I’ll always stay with you, no matter what happens.” Alois gave you a hopeful look. “Promise?” “Promise!” The promise you gave him that day would later on ruin your life.

“A-are you sure? She-she’s rea-really...?” The officer nodded firmly. “We heard that there was a week ago an incident in your bakery. Witnesses told us that Misses Smith threatened you to close your shop if you wouldn’t pay her back in a week. We wanted to know where you were yesterday between 10pm and 1am.” You were glad that you had a waterproof alibi. “I was staying with my friend Alois Trancy. He and all of his servants can confirm that.” One of the officers raised surprised an eyebrow. “You’re friends with this Trancy boy?” You nodded slightly confused. “You sound so surprised.” The officer waved his hands in defeat. “It isn’t like this. It’s just that...” He stopped for a few seconds and glanced shortly at the older officer as if asking him if it was okay to continue. “I suppose since she’s friends with him it’s only her right to know it. She would have been questioned some day anyways about this. It’s better to prepare her now so she won’t be caught off guard later.” You tilted your head confused. What were they talking about? “Can someone explain what’s going on?”, you asked confused. The younger officer slowly looked around as if wanting to make sure that no one was listening. “We suspect Alois to be guilty in a lot of murders.” Your eyes widened. “What?!” The other man nodded. “We had a lot of cases where Alois was the main suspect, but we never found clear evidence. It was terrible to always need to tell him that we couldn’t arrest him because we couldn’t find anything against him. He always made fun of the police after this. In my opinion he’s a brat.” “So please be careful near him. Even though so far it wasn’t proofed that he was guilty.”, the younger man pleaded you. “Alois would never hurt me!”, you told him, getting quickly defensive over your friend. “You do like him a lot, don’t you? Well, I suppose tastes are different. But in my opinion he’s just a spoiled brat. I still remember the time when I needed to report to him that he was spoken innocent in the old watchmaker case. I’ll never be able to forget his arrogant grin.”

You suddenly froze. Old watchmaker? You remembered this guy, he had disappeared a few months ago only to be found shortly after in a river, every evidence about how he had been killed nearly erased by the water. The only thing that had given his cause of death had been the prominent markings on his hands, making it very clear that he had been strangled. “Yeah! You told me about this. Do you remember the seamstress case? Or the fisherman case?” The both men lost themselves in old stories, talking about cases where they had suspected Alois as the killer. You on the other hand felt a terrible feeling rising at the pit of your stomach. You knew all these people and what was even more terrifying was the fact that all of them had managed to upset you in some way before they had disappeared. And as far as you could remember you had always told Alois about the people who had managed to upset you. But that couldn’t be true! You admitted that Alois could sometimes be very mean and cruel, but killing people was on a whole other level!! “E-excuse me. May I ask a question?”, you interrupted both men. “Yes, of course. What is it?” You hesitated for a moment, playing with the thought of just ignoring the growing voice in your head. But you couldn’t. “I know that this isn’t my right to know this, but could you tell me more about the cases where Alois was suspected? I might be from help.”

“Miss (y/n)? What are you doing here? I can’t remember that young master mentioned that you would come over tonight.” You panted for air and glanced at the lavender haired woman who had just opened the door. “I’m sorry if I came without letting all of you know! Did I come at a unfavorable moment?” Hannah quickly shook her head. “No! Of course not! The young master always told us that you can come at any time. He’s currently a bit busy, but I’m sure he’ll drop his work immediately as soon as he hears that you’re here. Please wait in the dining room.” She clapped her hands and instantly the triplets appeared out of nowhere. “Prepare the young miss and our master a small dinner. I’ll get our master.” The theee of them bowed and disappeared into the kitchen whilst you walked confused into the dining room, sitting down and waiting impatiently for Alois. “I’m a really terrible friend to even suspect him of doing such terrible things!” But why did you still feel this nagging suspicion inside of you? You knew that there was only one way to find out.

“I’m so happy that you came to visit me!! I didn’t expect it, but it’s such a pleasant surprise!!”, Alois told you excitedly whilst taking a bite from his steak. You tried to give him a not too awkward looking smile whilst poking with your fork in your food. You didn’t feel like eating. Alois noticed this. “Don’t you like it?” You quickly shook your head and replied:”No! It isn’t like this! It’s just that I don’t feel very hungry.” You took a sip of the tea, trying to calm your jittery nerves at least a bit down before deciding to finally start the conversation you had planned countless times in your head. “To be honest I-I came here for a reason. To talk with you.” Alois heard your serious undertone, slowly putting his cutlery down and looking you directly in the eyes. “What is it you want to talk about. You know you can talk about everything with me my little angel. Is there someone who’s bothering you? Just tell me.” You gulped all your nervousness and fear down. You still had the chance to not ask him. You still had the chance to forget all of this. But once you had made up your mind there was no turning back. “D-did you hear the news that the mistress from a week ago went missing?” Alois blinked confused. “Yes, I did. That’s really too bad because I’ve sent her the money for the dress already. To think that she’ll never receive it...” You pressed your lips together. “Alois, earlier this morning I was asked about this case from two officers. I talked a bit with them and also got in contact with the servants and the husband from Misses Smith. They told me that you never sent them any money.”

It became nerve wracking silent for a few seconds. “What do you mean?”, Alois asked you with a smile, but you noticed that it somewhat looked forced and his voice sounded the slightest bit panicked. “That’s not all. They also told me that you were suspected countless times in the past of murdering civilians. Why did you never tell me?” “I didn’t want you to worry. That was not your problem and I was scared that you would get involved as well. If these officers threatened you in some way just tell me so I can-“ He was interrupted by you. “This isn’t what I wanted to say!” Alois flinched when you raised your tone at him and you yourself were surprised. “I-I’m sorry. It’s...it’s just that...” You didn’t know how to continue despite the fact that you had planned beforehand in your head how to ask this. “The officers were friendly enough to tell me more about these cases and I...noticed that all of the victims had something in common.” You glanced at Alois who was staring with an intense look in his eyes at you. “All of them were people who I knew before and who had somehow managed to make me sad or angry before they just disappeared. And...and they all disappeared after I came to you and told you about my problems.” By now it felt like Alois gaze would set you on fire in every second. You took a deep and shaky breath before finally asking the important question. “Alois...were you involved in this? Is that what the police suspected of you is true?”

You had the feeling that you would break under the heavy weight of the silence that was surrounding you. “Did you tell the police of this?”, Alois suddenly asked you. You felt again the nagging suspicion raising inside of you even higher. He was avoiding your question!! But why?! “I didn’t. I wanted to ask you first about all of this.”, you answered him truthfully. “Please say that you didn’t do anything!!”, you begged silently to him. “(y/n)...”, Alois started and you listened closely to him, still hoping that he would start laughing and say that you were just paranoid,”I hope you understand how important you are and that I want to protect you. Every time I see you in pain I suffer as well. And no one has the right to hurt my angel!” He hissed the last sentence and for the shortest moment an expression of hate and anger crossed his face before being replaced by a too sweet smile. “You understand, don’t you?” You stated at him with wide eyes, almost having the feeling that they would pop out of your skull at any second. What had he just been talking about?!?! It almost sounded like he had...indirectly confessed. All of your alarm sirens were ringing in your body, screaming at you that Alois was dangerous. You slowly stood up. “I-I almost forgot how late it already is. B-bye Alois.” You quickly hurried to the door, intending to leave as fast as possible. “Where do you think you’re going?! You promised to not leave me!! Claude!!!”

In only a second his butler suddenly stood right in front of you, blocking your way through the door. “Claude! Let me through!” Your voice sounded panicked and you tried to push him away, but he was like a wall. You heard suddenly how Alois stood up from his chair and walked towards you. You wanted to quickly run somewhere else in the room, wanting to create as much space between the blonde and you as possible. But you didn’t come that far because Alois caught your wrist and pulled you violently against his back, sliding his arms around your waist and keeping you in place. “Do you think I’ll let you leave me just like this?” You couldn’t help, but start shaking at his sinister tone. “You-you killed them, didn’t you?”, you asked with a shaking voice. “They deserved it. Hurting my precious angel is with trying to take you away from me the worst crime a person could ever commit. That’s why I punished them accordingly.” You were frozen in fear, not wanting to believe what you had just heard. They had been right!! For a few moments you just stood there in his arms, not being able to move, your body refusing to listen what your brain wanted him to do. It took a lot of your willpower to finally force your body to move. “How could you?! I thought you were my friend!!! Leave me alone!!! Let me go!!!” You started wiggling in his grip, wanting to escape under all means necessary.

“You won’t leave me!!! Not you as well!!! From all persons I have in my life you’re the one I can’t lose!!! By the way, don’t you remember what you promised me a while ago?!” For a moment you didn’t know what he meant before it finally clicked. From the way you were tensing up Alois was able to tell that you did remember. “You promised that you would never leave me! So you need to keep your promise! If not I’ll make sure that you keep it!” With every sentence he hissed his tone became darker and his grip tightened around you. “S-stop! Please! You hurt m-me!” Your voice seemed to bring him back to reality and his grip around you loosened slightly, enough that it wouldn’t hurt you anymore. “I’m sorry, but...but just the thought of losing you terrifies me!!” You had stopped moving in his grip, instead grabbing one of his hands around your waist. “Alois, please let me go. We can still fix this.” You prayed so dearly that the Alois you knew was still there and that there was some hope left, but all of it was crushed when you heard his answer. “I’m afraid that I can’t. You already know too much and I don’t want to take the risk of you telling the police or trying to run away from me.” Wait!! He wasn’t to...?! “I was thinking about kidnapping you for a long time now. Like this I could make sure that no one would be able to hurt you or take you away from me! I could finally treat you like the queen you deserve to be treated at! And I could finally show you how much I love you really! We could finally break out of the friendzone! Finally become the couple we were always meant to be!” The longer he spoke the more excited he sounded and the more terrified you became. He was completely serious about this!

“I guess that you must be a bit confused about all of this, but very soon you’ll understand. We’re just perfect for each other.”, Alois told you in a softer voice to calm you down. You weren’t able to think of a sentence to say to him. What were you supposed to say in such a situation?! “I’m sorry for doing this.” Before you could think about what he exactly meant he suddenly nodded at Claude. The golden eyed butler came quickly closer. “Stay away from me! Stay-“ With a swift move Claude hit some nerves on your neck which made you see stars for a few seconds before everything started to turn black. The last thing you remembered were Alois arms embracing you tightly. “I love you my sweet, little angel.” With these words he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

[babi-correia]

What Could Have Been (Part 2)

Words: 1605 Warnings: Flashbacks, nothing too violent A/N: ...I’ve been going at this fic and it’s going to be over 20 parts long... It’s going to be good, I promise! Also, two updates in one day, who am I?!

Part 1

Back in the firehouse, you rush into the showers, eager to scrub away all the remnants and memory of what you saw on the bottom of the river. You allow your mind to wander while you’re under the water, your fingers absentmindedly running through the multiple laceration scars on your right hip. You can remember the incident like it was yesterday.

You’re making small talk with the other marines on your truck when it comes to an abrupt stop, and you hear ruckus coming from the outside.

“C’mon Peacemaker, go out there and settle whatever is going on.” Your CO orders, making you hop off the truck and jog towards the front of the convoy, where several Rangers are yelling in English, Spanish, and Pashto at a small girl standing in the middle of the road.

“Cut it out.” You snarl at the Rangers, moving forward. You see Jay and Mouse up front as you approach on your left. “We’re in the fucking Valley of Death, and I’d appreciate it if we didn’t have to be here any longer than strictly necessary.”

“That girl is blocking the way.” An older Ranger barks, his gun trained on her. You roll your eyes at him, noticing the frightened look on the girl’s face.

“Put that fucking gun down.” You bellow, coming closer to the girl until you feel a hand on your arm. You see Jay on the other side, shaking his head.

“Don’t go any closer. We don’t know what could come of that.” He says, and you nod. You turn to the girl, playing your role as an interpreter.

“What’s your name?” You ask her in Pashto, lowering the bandana around your mouth and raising your hands, showing her you meant no harm. “I’m (Y/N), what about you?”

“They… they said the infidels were going to suffer.” She whimpers, making your eyes go wide.

“Everyone, get back!” You call out, but it’s already too late.

You watch as a missile lands where the girl is standing, throwing you back and making your ears ring. You scramble, screaming when you feel the debris and shrapnel embedded on your right hip and leg. You drag yourself a few inches, looking around at your teammates and seeing complete carnage, crawling towards Jay and Mouse, seeing the latter scramble up-

“Hey, (Y/N), you ok in there?” You hear Kidd’s voice outside the door, snapping you from the trip down memory lane. You thank her mentally, remembering that what came next was not something you liked to relive.

You and Kidd had had some problems in getting along when you first met, but with time and some hangouts, the two of you quickly became good friends. She knew about most of the events from your deployments due to your own drunk blabbermouth, but even when drunk you saved her the most gruesome details, and the part that you knew Jay and Mouse.

“I’m fine, just got a bit distracted!” You call out, shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around yourself as you exit the stall. Your right leg seizes, causing you to curse as a sudden surge of pain floods your hip and shoots in every direction.

“I’m coming in.” She warns, opening the door you thought you had locked and closing it behind her, turning the bolt. “You did lock it; I picked the lock.”

She comes to your side and helps you sit down on the little ledge in the shower, crouching down in front of you.

“I heard about your find today, how are you holding up?” She asks, resting her arms on your knees as you secure the towel around your chest.

“I’m fine. I’ve seen worse.” It wasn’t a complete lie: even though the bodies in the river were a gruesome sight, your deployment had given you plenty worse. “But my leg is acting up again with the damn ghost pain.”

“Let’s get you dressed and then you can rest a bit on the bunks.” She suggests, gathering your clothes and helping you up. “It seems like the rest of the day is going to be slow.”

“Don’t jinx it, I need that desperately right now.” You mutter, putting on your underwear before taking a little pause. You can see your reflection on the mirrors from the corner of your eye, your skin littered with scars, both small and big, faded and evident, shallow and deep, all reminders of a time in your life that you wish you could erase from existence.

“What’s going on, (Y/N)?” Stella asks, her hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder. You give her a sad smile, putting on your shirt.

“Saw some people I wasn’t expecting to see today, and it brought back memories.” You mutter, grabbing the pants from Stella’s hands and putting them on with her help.

“Someone I know?” She asks, raising a brow. You sigh, sitting back on the ledge as you put on your socks and boots.

“Yes.” You say defeatedly, making her look at you curiously.

“Who??”

“…Jay Halstead.”

“What do you mean, ‘Jay Halstead’? How do you know him?”

“You remember the convoy ordeal?” You ask, seeing her nod before continuing. “Well, his team was there with mine. We both got blown up.”

“Holy shit, I had no idea.” She mutters, her eyes wide in shock. “How long ago as that?”

“Very long ago. He looked right at Squad table and greeted Severide, didn’t even recognize me.”

“Why didn’t you talk to him?”

“Well, it’s more complicated than that.” You say, finishing the bow on your boot’s laces before getting up, moving to the mirrors to comb your hair. “We were very good friends during a very tough time for the two of us, and as you can see, recognition brings back not so pleasant memories.”

You put your hair in a sleek bun at the nape of your neck before grabbing your dirty clothes and limping towards the laundry room.

“But still… Maybe he could help you see some good in reminiscing the times with him.” She suggests, watching as you load your used clothes into the washer. You shake your head.

“Stella… Trust me, it’s better like this. It’s better only one of us suffers.” You say softly, pressing the buttons and prompting the machine to start its cycle.

“Ladies, excuse me.” Severide interrupts, stopping at the entrance. “(Y/L/N), Boden is asking for you at his office.”

You frown as you follow Severide, trying your best to mask the limp on your leg but failing miserably.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Severide asks, slowing down. You shake your head, slapping your right hand down on your hip.

“Old pains tend to flare up some times.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. He seems to accept the answer, nodding before he stops you in the hallway, mere steps away from Boden’s office.

“Fair warning, Voight and Halstead are inside.” Severide says, watching as you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. “It’s probably something about the bodies in the river.”

You nod, trying to relax and stop your heart from beating franticly against your ribs, the anxiety of it all leaving you a little light-headed. You enter the office after Severide, closing the door behind you before joining the small group on the opposite side from Jay.

“(Y/N), Sergeant Voight asked me if he could speak to you in person about the last call.” Chief Boden says, crossing his arms in front of him. Voight reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you give in.

“Sergeant Hank Voight.” He introduces. You give him a firm handshake, noticing Jay extending his hand as you let go of Voight’s. You quickly grasp his hand, trying to hide the shaking.

“Detective Jay Halstead.” He says, shaking your hand, and your mind gives you flashes from your deployment: from the actual first time the two of you met, from the times where hand holding between the two of you meant comfort and understanding instead of just formal pleasantries-

You force yourself to snap out of it, forcing a smile as your chest tightens.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You introduce yourself to the two men, watching the slight puzzlement taking over Jay’s face for a few moments before he shakes his head. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“We just wanted to let you know that you singlehandedly gave closure to the families of the 5 victims we recovered from the river today. You have our appreciation.” Voight says, nodding his head in a small sign of respect.

“If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else, you have nothing to thank me for.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You feel Severide’s gaze on you as you try to level your breathing, the uneasy feeling in your chest only growing.

Voight’s phone rings and he answers, listening for a bit before disconnecting the call and nodding at Jay. The two men quickly shake hands with the three firefighters in the room before excusing themselves.

“We caught a break on the current case, we have to go.” Voight declares as he and Jay leave the office. Boden nods at you when you look at him, a silent permission to leave, and you just about run out of the office and through the kitchen’s access to the outside, slumping against the wall as the snow comes down around you.

Seconds later, Stella comes out of the same door you did and wraps you in a hug, sliding down the wall with you as you burst into tears.

@thexplosivegirl​ | @godohammers​ | @savingprivatecass​ | @princxss-fia | @fullwattpadmusictree​ | @bethii1​ | @doramstr​ | @annaallicce​ | @hehurst23​ | @dreamslove92 | @lostsoulwalking | @magicxshadows​ | @lookatallthefeels

[linkspooky]

To be fair, Deku saw his friend's brother trying to kill him, so it's only natural that he doesn't care about Dabi's situation /trauma. Something like "at least Endeavor isn't trying to kill my friend"

Okay, this is an OPINION. Please read it as an opinion. 

To be fair, anon.  I don’t think anybody is criticizing Deku for trying to save his friend. Obviously, at the moment Deku’s first response would be to stop Dabi from trying to kill Shoto because he knows Shoto personally and cares about him. 

This is just my reading and interaction with fandom, but the two 2 complaints with Deku’s remark seem to be this. 

1) It’s incredibly tone-deaf. In the same vein as Best Jeanist’s argument. Best Jeanist is arguing that Dabi shouldn’t go public with his accusations because faith in heroes is already wavering. Deku is arguing that Enji is doing better right now, so he Dabi shouldn’t bring up the past again. Both of them are essentially trying to silence Dabi without even addressing what his actual argument is. Yes, Dabi is a villain who murders people but let’s imagine this is a normal situation. Let’s say that Endeavor was a film producer who had used his money and position in society to beat up a woman. That woman came clean about how the film producer was beating her. You’d want to see them at least fired, right? Dabi isn’t saying that Endeavor’s abuse of him gives him liscense to kill whoever he wants, he’s saying that Endeavor shouldn’t be held up as a hero after what he did, and the society that tries to silence his abuse is also complicit in that same abuse. 

The reason to make that case of abuse a matter of public opinion, in that case, is to PREVENT that person from using their money and power to both commit and get away with abuse. Dabi’s argument isn’t that Endeavor abused him so he should get to murder people. That’s not even close to what Dabi’s arguing. Dabi is arguing that Endeavor should not have a position and status in society as a hero considering that he’s used his wealth and connections in the past to abuse his own family. It doesn’t really matter if Endeavor is acting better now. You don’t re-elect a politician who was arrested for taking bribes. Endeavor’s current position as the number one hero requires the silence of all of his victims. 

What Dabi is saying is that the current hero system protects it’s own. If Endeavor is number one, if he has all of that power, then he should be held to a standard above others. But he’s not. The primary interest of the hero system as it is currently is keeping heros in power and in the dominant force in society. Do you know why we know this? It’s literally what Best Jeanist says. We can’t afford to hear this expose on endeavor right now because society is doubting heroes already. Hero society will put protecting heroes high in priority than even protecting the families, or victims of said heroes. 

Dabi’s not actually just talking about his personal case, he’s making a systemic argument. The argument he brings up is, if heroes are given so much power in society then shouldn’t they have an equal amount of regulation? Shouldn’t there be someone holding them responsible for all the power they wield? If there was someone holding them responsible, then what happened to Dabi never would have even happened. Enji intentionally manipulated the system in his own favor, to get his way. He didn’t get away with it because he was a good hero, he got away with it because he used money and power to hush it up. It’s a systemic argument and Deku responds with a personal one. 

Deku responds with: Well, he was a good mentor to me. 

Yes, that’s your personal experience with him. However, that’s not really even on topic to what Dabi is saying. Dabi is saying people who use the system in an abusive way shouldn’t even be allowed to be heroes. 

To be fair again, I don’t think Deku is making this from an angle of “I think Dabi should just shut up about his abuse for the good of society.” I think when it comes to Deku’s characterization he doesn’t have the lived experience of that kind of abuse. If Deku is fifteen and therefore a kid, it makes sense he would only judge the world from his point of view. If his experiences of Endeavor are mostly positive ones it makes sense he wouldn’t really comprehend the bulk of what both Shoto and Dabi have been through. 

2) Deku is a fictional character. Deku only acts as a realistic teenager as far as the author wants him to. I mean if you want to extend the argument of realism farther, then you could say it’s not realistic that a fifteen-year-old would be willing to break the bones in his body, or that it’s not realistic he’s not losing his mind from the pain of having all his limbs broken.  I mean, what do fifteen-year-olds do these days sit around all day vaping? Skateboarding? Anyway, realism only extends so far. Basically, as much as Deku is his own character, he’s also a mouthpiece for the author. He’s written by someone, to say things. Therefore, the things he says have meaning. 

Deku’s point of view might be mistaken. We might see him called out in later chapters. However, it’s odd to see the main character say something like “Enji is trying to be better, and you’re not” because it sounds like the author is trying to use Deku to tell us to sympathize with Enji over Dabi. I’m not even going to call it bad writing, it’s just tone-deaf. It just muddies things. We’re constantly told Deku is a  character who will try to save anyone. A character with an extraordinary drive to save people against all logic. 

We’ve seen in the past Deku to be completely unforgiving to abusers. He’s been also shown to have an extreme reaction to abuse. This is how he reacts to the idea of what Chisaki was doing to Eri. Using a child to experiment on her quirk again and again. That’s... a pretty strong parallel to what Enji did to his entire family. Enji’s actions even directly resulted in the death, either by suicide or training accident of his child Toya.

So it’s not just like “of course Deku would want to save his friend from his murderous older brother”, beyond that it’s just written in a way that muddles Deku’s character motivation. Like just for example, does Deku consider Dabi worthy of the second chance he’s willing to offer Enji? What’s different in that case? What is forgivable and not forgivable? And before any of you say Enji shows a desire to improve himself while Dabi wallows in his own guilt, Dabi’s been like... legally dead and probably homeless for about ten years while Endeavor was rich and secure in his position in society. They’re not... they’re not at the same starting line. Either way, it’s weird, Deku would sympathize with Endeavor and cut off all sympathy for Dabi, considering he at least has taken a strong stance against abuse before. There’s either an in-character reason behind why he’s doing this, which means it’s written as an intentional character flaw or the framing is sloppy. 

(Framing being, using characters and their reactions to events in the story as a guide to show how we’re supposed to react to an event in the story. For example if a character does a bad, often their friends will call them out or say ‘you did a bad thing’ to make it clear we’re not supposed to sympathize with that character at the moment. A story is a painting, and the frame around it draws attention to certain aspects. The frame emphasizes.).

Dabi even says it’s weird not to pity him. Dabi is the direct action of Endeavor’s abuse. Isn’t it sad, that this little kid who just wanted to be a hero was burned alive at some point? 

Just to talk about how it’s written in this case, I think Jujutsu Kaisen does a better job of showing the main character thinking t’s not okay to just lash out at random people and trying to stop them from that behavior, while at the same time recognizing the person they’re dealing with is in pain and that pain deserves to be recognized. 

Junpei is a bullied kid. He starts using his powers to get back at his bullies, and also harm innocent people along the way. Yuji’s first reaction is to try to stop him. 

However, in trying to learn his reasoning behind attacking both the people at his school and also his bullies, Yuji recognizes an important fact: Yuta is in pain because his mother just died yesterday. Yuji and Junpei were both fighting each other before this moment, and yes Yuji doesn’t have to listen to or understand Junpei’s reason why, but Yuji like Deku is characterized as somebody who saves people against all logic. In that moment after it becomes clear that Yuji isn’t just doing this for no good reason, but lashing out in pain, Yuji’s priorities shift. His first priority was to stop the lashing out, now his second one is to offer him a way out. He shows him that there’s a way to deal with his problems besides lashing out. 

There are people willing to listen to you, there are people who can help you. Yuji doesn’t fix Junpei’s problem for him, he just shows him that there’s another way. He acknowledges that Junpei is right to want justice for whoever killed his mom, but the way he’s going about it is wrong, and he can find a better way with them together. Junpei acted this way in the first place, because he believed he couldn’t trust anybody else. He lashed out because he was dealing with the feelings of having lost his only mother literally twelve hours ago all by himself, and trying to pursue justice for her alone too. 

Yuji’s response also tells Junpei he has to stop randomly lashing out at whoever he thought killed his mom, and whoever hurt him. However, he doesn’t tell Junpei that he’s wrong for feeling hurt. He doesn’t dismiss any of Junpei’s problems.

Junpei’s pain is recognized by Yuji, and he’s treated as a person and offered a way out. 

Dabi is instead shut down continually by basically every hero around him, Deku, and Best Jeanist as well. He’s not offered as a way out, everyone’s response is just to try to put him down. 

Yuji actually seriously thinks about how Junpei is feeling and makes a decision on how he should handle him based on those internal feelings. Yuji changes his mind a little bit midway through the fight. We don’t really see the internal reasons for why Deku thinks it’s okay to give Enji a second chance, but not extend the same chance to Dabi. To be clear I think the character of Deku is just fine, however, I would also like the story to dig deeper into his motivations. I would like to see WHY he thinks the things he does or acts the way he does. We see Yuji constantly thinking about the things Deku doesn’t think about, and my response isn’t to hate Deku. I just think Deku would be a better character if we got into his head more. 

[herstarburststories]

Brutal (Dean Winchester x Reader)

✾ A/N: More Dean x reader content, but angst this time! Reposting because I had to edit a few things. Gif's credits on it.  Based on the song ‘from the dining table’.

✾ Summary: Unlike her boyfriend, Dean Winchester, the reader wasn’t raised as a hunter. At first, it seems like a hard but worth it job. Unfortunately, you didn't have in mind how brutal all of it could get.

✾ Words: 3k.

"YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF ANYMORE, DEAN!"

The discussion over a delicate subject at the dining table was blossoming into something bigger. (Y/N) was on her feet, shouting at her boyfriend with a shaking voice; a manner that was very uncommon. You were used to Dean being stubborn, and you were not behind him in this aspect which caused a few disagreements here and there. That certain argument, though, was definitive in every meaning of the word.

"I HAVE ALWAYS MADE IT FUCKING CLEAR WHAT THIS LIFE WAS, (Y/N)!" Dean snapped back, anger dripping from his words like venom. He was hurt. How could you say that he was becoming a cold-hearted person? You, of all people. "IF I DON'T KILL IT, IT KILLS ME! THIS ISN'T AN APPLE PIE LIFE, AND YOU KNEW IT WHEN YOU DECIDED TO STAY HERE!"

"I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT VAMPIRES OR POLTERGEISTS OR WENDIGOS, DEAN! FUCK!" Your usual efficiency with words was starting to tangle with desperation. Dean didn't even see the problem, for God's shake. How could you keep this up? "I'M TALKING ABOUT THE PEOPLE! I SAW YOU KILL FIVE POSSESSED PEOPLE TODAY!"

"DEMONS!" He groaned and slapped the table. You jumped in surprise, making him regret getting out of control and coaxing a softer, calmer tone from his mouth. "I killed demons, not people."

"The demons were possessing them, and you killed them off without any regret. You didn't even take a minute to consider other options."

"What other options?" he questioned, obviously upset. What the hell were you doing? Becoming the devil's advocate all of sudden?

"Using the demon-killing knife to stab a non-vital part of their bodies? Maybe an exorcism?"

"None of those options would end the problem permanently. Do you have any idea how many sons of a bitch came back from hell to get Sam and me? It's them or us, (Y/N). And I will always choose us." Dean was aware that you weren't raised in this life like him and Sam, but this conversation was becoming frustrating and confusing. You were training to be like them. You went to hunts with them. You... You supported him. At least, you did last time he checked. "The human is long gone when they get possessed. Dying is the best thing that could happen to them after that."

You were supposed to be an easy case that turned out to be more complicated than previously expected, what meant both of them staying a little longer in the city, you catching feelings for Dean and vice-versa. After all you had seen, you knew that normal life was a long lost memory that you didn't wish to visit, leave alone live in. Hauntings, traveling across the country, having no banal responsibilities-- that seemed like the kind of dangerous fun you had been looking for your whole life. Then, you came with them. Killing things had never bothered you-- they weren't actually alive, for starts. Until you saw how cold Dean looked when he killed off possessed people-- the humans that were still in there somehow. And he kept doing it as if it were the only option. Of course, this job and violence walked side by side, but not unnecessary lethal choices. Dean certainly shared his portion of brutality, which wasn't tiny, but you would never picture your boyfriend as uncaring. Not until you watched five bodies piled up together, burning. What about the chance that those people should have gotten?

"Are you even listening to yourself, Dean? What if Sam had thought like that when you became a demon!?" Apprehensive, you tried to make him understand what was wrong.

Dean clenched his jaw before his answer came out, "Those are two different things, (Y/N). You know that."

"I..." You flinched, taking a deep breath and letting it out. You shut your eyes before opening them with a determinate glare, locking your gaze with his green one. "I can't. I said I would stand by you through anything, but I can't let this slide. Not like this."

"Because I killed a few demons?" The older Winchester grinned wryly. He was furious, scared by the possibility of you leaving him, and injured by your words. What else could a wounded animal do besides attacking? "I survived, (Y/N). I've killed many others, and I'm not fucking sorry for it. They had it coming. You knew that was my life, and you chose it. What are you going to do now? Play the coward? It's a dirty, fucked up job, but someone has to do it, and you knew that."

Offering a sad smile, you walked towards him and lifted your hand to claim his cheek only for him to pull away from you. Your heart ached, but you needed to do that. Stick to your morals and beliefs.

"I love you." And you did, you truly did. Unfortunately, blood was as normal as water in his mouth, and you couldn't help but remain nauseous after what you tasted. "But there is a better way. Maybe not perfect, but another decision. And if you can't see that, if you can't see why I find it wrong to just rush around with the knife in every situation--" Your voice almost broke. "Goodbye, Dean."

You turned around, passing away from the man you loved before another speech stopped you.

"I bet you regret leaving your home to run away with me now."

You didn't take two seconds to reply, and you desired that he could understand how hard it was for you too. "I would never regret you."

No ray of sunshine licked Dean's face to wake him up. Fortunately for the Winchesters' disorganized sleeping routine, the bunker prevented the sun from invading the window-- a perk of living almost under the land in a bunker.

Instead of a normal reason to emerge from his rest, Dean's eyes fluttered open from an annoying migraine. Perhaps he went a little too hard on the alcohol yesterday, but that was the last thing that mattered. Besides, even if it was an abnormal sensation, he wouldn't trade it for sake of 'drinking like a normal human being', as (Y/N) had teased him so many times before.

(Y/N).

It took two seconds after recovering consciousness to think about you.

“Where are you?” he said in a whisper, playing with himself to the silent walls. Dean laughed with his own brand of self-deprecation-- a learned cruelty to dilute the tug of his emotions before the eldest Winchester had to get up. He knew exactly where you resided and why you were there. He decided against feeding his masochism for once, not glancing at your side of the bed.

To face the light fixtures above him only made his current situation more depressing, just like the hints of paint that (Y/N) had once thrown there. Dean Winchester knew pain like no other; hell, purgatory, an emptied childhood, watching his mother seal a deal with a demon, living with the fact his father had gone to hell to save him, being right in front of Sammy when he died, all the bloody deaths he’d lived through again and again-- the list would go on. He could probably drown in an ocean of his deceased loved ones’ blood and swim there for hours until he reached its edge.

Most of the time, the life of a hunter was synonymous with tragedy.

Therefore, Dean was very experienced when it came to suffering. He even shared a last name with a rifle, for God’s sake. Destruction was stained in his bones. This time, it was a different kind of torment.

His heart had been broken before, sure. He wasn’t in his early twenties, neither was he a saint. Dean was aware that a break in relationships could be devastating.

But again, this time, it was different. (Y/N) had not only broke his heart. You ripped it out and threw it in the trash as you walked out the door without looking back. His trust was in your pockets, and the beliefs clinging to the divine sensation of your touch that left with you.

Dean Winchester was hopeless. Deciding not to mourn for a bit, he closed his eyes from the melancholy. It wasn't a hard job to fall asleep once more. People in his job were always heavy-eyed.

Forty minutes passed by the clock until the Winchester roused again. This moment felt missing without you snuggling up to him or kissing his neck between foolish giggles or even pushing him out of bed when you felt like playing the prankster.

There was no valid reason to remain where he was, glaring at a stupid ceiling that held nothing but an old light you installed together and memories. The yellow and blue paints still held firm where you’d spattered them, jumping in the bed together with your hands drenched in the colors from a gouache paint container just because you’d found the tins somewhere in the bunker. You and Dean became a tangled mess of greens, dirty with paint and kissing. How many sexual encounters happened here, he thought, glaring at this ceiling that looked like three-year-old Sammy’s art project.

The green-eyed man never thought he would feel nostalgic about a stupid ceiling. He had to get out of that room.

Finally raising from the mattress, Dean yawned as he padded towards the kitchen. He didn't mind checking what time it was, knowing he needed an alcoholic getaway. The Winchester sat down, sharing a bottle of Whiskey with his shadow. How distracting it was to make his throat burn when an unpleasant thought attempted to take control of his head.

If he had dared to look through the room, Dean would have noticed the clock's arrow pointing at 10:50 am.

By noon he was already drunk, which took a lot of effort since his tolerance to drinks was a bar high set. Dean groaned, displeased. The buzzy feeling of befuddlement hitting him certainly helped, but he could still affirm that he had never felt less cool. His body was starving for something that wasn't there anymore. Dean's feelings were all over the place, and he didn't have the energy to pick them up at this point.

"I can't believe you are drinking already." Sam sighed, making himself known by Dean in the kitchen. In response, all he got was his brother holding the glass up and drinking all of its bronze liquid. "It's barely noon, Dean. You-- Wait. Are you drunk?"

"Don't start, Sam." He groaned, holding his own cheeks with fingers as his hands slid down to his chin. The gesture was a habit of Dean's when he was fed up with something.

The younger one offered him an indignant glare, which was soon replaced by empathy and sorrow as he watched Dean. His brother was broken. (Y/N) running away from them had really taken him down. Part of Sam was hurt as well-- after all, you were his friend and confidant. But, in all ruthless honesty, he couldn't speak out and point fingers at you on that. Not about the whole situation, at all.

Yet, if Sam was feeling abandoned by his friend, he could only imagine what Dean would be experiencing. You had been a hint of happiness in the middle of misery and combat for Dean. It had been so long since Sammy saw his brother like that, so very long. Suddenly, it disappeared like smoke. And the worst part was that he understood your side. Deep down, the long-haired man knew Dean did, too.

Trying to knock sense back into his brother, or at least a bit of normality, Sam spoke, "You can go out and buy some whiskey. Your bottle was the last one."

"Yeah, right." His voice was impassive, almost serious for such casual conversation. He got up, going to the table to grab Baby's keys.

"Hey, Dean..." Dean turned around to face his brother. Sam’s expression was cautious, voice soft when he continued: "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. It could help."

"I'm pretty sure you heard the screaming yesterday, Sam," Dean replied dryly, an unsettlingly wry smile surfacing. His walls were up. It was an old defense mechanism. "There is nothing to talk about. She left. The sooner we can accept it, the sooner we can move on."

"Move on? You want to move on?" he questioned suspiciously, eyebrows arching to match his inquiry.

Dean didn't answer. He only picked up the keys.

"Dean--"

"Yeah, I think we are out of eggs, too," Dean interrupted. He didn't need to talk about it. Not now. "Whiskey and eggs, got it."

Any other remarks from Sam were ignored as he walked through the door, trotting in direction of his beloved Impala. An old song on one of his cassettes was the soundtrack to his five-minute ride to the nearest store.

Dean went searching for eggs and whiskey, adding a lemon pie that smelled better than himself-- not that it was difficult considering he hadn’t showered since yesterday. The store’s cashier swiped his credit card and offered a polite farewell that was replied with a nod. Everything seemed so normal in the most boring ways.

In the parking lot, a familiar face appeared for the first time in a year. It was Thomas-- a hunter that Dean, you, and Sam had come across during a job in New Mexico.

"Winchester!" The blue-eyed man smiled, making the scar near his lips more evident. Being thrown out of a window left marks sometimes. "It's been too long, dude."

"Cavill." His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted his friend. Laying his green eyes on him, Dean couldn't avoid noticing a familiar shirt. Fuck, he must be hallucinating or thinking too hard about foolish subjects. "Where have you been?"

"Burning bones, decapitating vamps. Same old, same old." Thomas waved his hand, banalizing the supernatural routine as if it were nothing but another Sunday. For them, this was true. "I saw (Y/N) yesterday. She seemed fine. Separate hunts to take different cases?"

His blood burned through an emotional fever in realization. It felt like the boil was intense enough to melt his bones if he remained in front of the other men for too long. Thomas had never been subtle about finding you attractive, and neither was his constant flirting when your cases collided. It didn't help that you and Dean weren't together back then, even though the tension was obvious for anyone. The Winchester gripped his grocery plastic bag harder, offering him a sarcastic smirk.

"Something like that." He reached the car door and pulled out his keys. The familiar red flannel, your meeting with him-- it was so obvious it was basically written all over his face, and sadly, Dean could read it well. Fuck, he wanted to drop his purchases and punch that smile off Thomas’ face. That man probably had more of what was once his. “Gotta go. See you around.”

Sliding in the car to leave this conversation before his treacherous mind could reach more detestable conclusions, Cavill answered, "If you need help, give me a call.''

Dean mumbled something but didn't care enough to give him anything beyond a nod while the Impala finally drove away from Thomas.

At that moment, he wished a bit harder that Ellen was still alive or that another bar like hers existed. The hunters’ bar was full of people who understood that death was a part of the job. Somewhere he could swallow barrels of alcohol, play darts and tell bloody stories about his world-- about the quintessential things he did to get despair out of his system to the point that he felt comfortable on his own skin again.

So, that was it? You didn't just leave him and Sam, but you also accused him with all certainty you had of being a cold killer, and then you slept with the first man who showed up? Who was also a fucking hunter? Why the fuck didn't you tell him how you felt sooner? He wasn't an angel-- he would be even more of an arrogant asshole than he already was if that was the case, but you knew it all along. He didn't deserve anything good in his life. He should've seen it coming.

Dean pursed his lips, deciding for another ride to a normal bar. Home and all the beautiful, tragic ghosts inside could haunt him later.

It didn't take him long to park near an establishment. For once, he noticed the strong grip he held on the steering wheel, knuckles strained whiter than usual. He let out a tired sigh, glaring at the entrance of the place before grabbing his phone.

No calls from you. No text messages from you. Just the feeling of being a thirteen-year-old boy again, just like when he was waiting for Mary to send him a sign that she was all right.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean put it back in his pocket and made his way to the bar. No 'welcome' board light was shining yet, and he doubts anyone but he and the owner would be there. Once he got in, two guys were sitting in a table far away, and a girl was entering the bathroom. The bartender stood behind the bar, watching some game on the small television the place provided.

"Whiskey. No ice." His words came out harsher than he expected. The guy didn't seem to notice or care, simply nodding his head and turning around go get his client's order. One more time, Dean took his phone and stared at it. There was nothing but a text from Sammy that he quickly replied to, frowning in disappointment. It was rare for you to be the first one to break after a fight, but that was more than a stupid argument. You had left. You had fucking left. And he was the only one to blame.

Such a miserable routine kept its course. Dean would drink, check his phone, and hurt himself with his own thoughts. The night came with lurking shadows, and he couldn't care less. It seemed like the ghosts had replaced the bunker for his company. He didn't want to believe you would come back because hoping and being destroyed again was too much to bear with right now. Dean couldn't even breathe properly at the thought that he would never, ever see touch you, tease you, or be with you again. You had him wrapped around your finger since the very first day until you cut your hand off and left him. You left. How could you have left? But then, how could you had stayed if you had it all in your mind before?

Someone sat beside him. Still, it didn't catch the Winchester's attention until he heard her voice. For a flash of a second, he thought it was you. Dean looked up instantly, only to find himself incredulous.

The woman in front of him looked so much like you. She could easily be mistaken for your sister. Hair, eyes, voice. Everything but the lips were so similar. The unknown girl kept her gaze on Dean despite his strange reaction to her. Repeating her former words, she asked, "What are you drinking? Seems good."

Yeah, she wasn't (Y/N). You could tell what he was drinking from miles away, just because you knew exactly what he enjoyed. In addition, you’d seen his preferences so much that you’d memorized it all without even trying.

She looked like you, though. A lot. The earlier jealousy mixed with a dangerous quantity of alcohol and anguish made his decision. Move on, just like he told Sam. You didn't call him. You weren't coming back. That was your choice. He had to shut up the little hopes in his mind.

Putting up his best sultry smirk, Dean pushed the glass on the table towards her as he answered: "You tell me."

Two hours later, he was tilting his head to the side, watching the woman in his sheets peacefully taking a nap after a long run. Her hand covered most of her face, pillow carpeted with her messy hair.

"Wake up, (Y--)" Dean restrained himself from finishing that sentence. He almost said your name. It was hard enough to keep the woman's name, which he had forgotten by now, on his tongue during sex-- he wasn't going to give in at the end of it. Clearing his throat, the hunter started waking her up again. He needed to go.

In any other point of his life, he would've considered that night a success. A hot girl was sleeping beside him after he had a great amount of old whiskey. Sammy sent a text about a new case, and he had pie waiting for him in the car. At any other moment, that would be enough to put him in a good mood all day. In any other age, that would be considered a good day. No one died, he had sex and food and was about to hunt a thing and blow whatever it was up.

But you hadn't called.

It was probably a good thing in a messed up way. It was tranquil. There was no arguing, no fighting, no hurting from either side. That kind of hurt was quite similar to being comfortable, in a tremendously distorted way that he didn't wish to feel, like not putting medicine on the wound and just allowing it to heal by itself-- yet, occasionally scratching it. The idea of a comfortable silence was so overrated. Dean would rather be screamed at by (Y/N) by now than whatever this option was.

The woman woke up and left a note with her phone as she abandoned the room. Crumbling the paper, he threw it away and touched his face. A deep breath was taken.

He had work to do.

Maybe one day you'll call me

and tell me that you’re sorry too 

But you never do