#not but seriously pls prepared to be sick of me

[seoulmatez]

anyways, starting a countdown until my lover rin is back in my arms (aka bllk season 2 release)

19 days!!!

[arminsumi]

Hii can we pls get an extremely smitten in love like love sick gojo pls?????

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

A/N: ABSOLUTELY!! 🥰

Wc ≈ 1.7k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: the annoying popular boy at college has his heart set on you 😌💕

Warnings; it's a little cheesy

There’s a white-haired boy that always, always sits next to you in every single class. He’s got the looks that kill, one-of-a-kind features, almost too pretty to be on earth; the kind of boy that makes even teachers stutter in the middle of their lecture simply because of his presence.

So many girls fawn over him, like he’s the rockstar of your college with a bunch of groupies following wherever he goes.

And that ticks off one reason you don’t like Gojo Satoru.

The other reasons? To narrow it down; he’s an arrogant cocky flirty bastard who will not stop asking you out to parties and dates. Persistent and determined to make you crack and finally fall for him. Relentless and fast in his pursuit of your heart no matter how far it runs – he’s gonna getcha, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time.

He’s never felt this deeply or intensely. It makes his head spin. When you walk in the room, when you speak, when he sees your name on an attendee list… it has him feeling tingly and lightheaded. Even getting a text from you makes him jump; he replies in two seconds and pouts when you leave him on read. He even complains to his mom and Suguru about you.

This boy is the walking symptoms of lovesick.

But he’s in heavy denial about it. No, no – he’s not obsessed, you’re obsessed. He’s not crushing on you; you’re crushing on him. He’s not chasing you; you’re chasing him. He doesn’t wanna kiss you, you wanna kiss him.

“You have such a fat crush on me.” He smirks, talking unashamedly loudly so everyone who’s passing down the columned corridor can hear.

You sigh. “No I don't, Gojo.”

“It’s Satoru to you,” he winks, “And anyways, you’re not busy this afternoon, yeah?”

“Actually I am – ”

“Great! Let’s go out.”

Your whole face spells how frustrated you are.

“Oh my god…” you sigh, getting up for your next class which was in two minutes – Gojo took up all your time. Your friends had long slipped away after he gave them a glare, snickering as they did because they thought the whole thing between you and him was hilarious.

His long legs strode next to you down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To class.” you replied.

“Let me walk you there.” he offered eagerly.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need.” you replied.

He looked at you like a sad puppy, so you gave in. “Oh my god, fine then.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“What!” you looked at him incredulously, “You’re the one who – oh my god never mind. Walk me to class, Gojo.”

He grinned in satisfaction. You almost wanted to smack him.

“It’s Satoru.” He corrected.

“I’m not calling you that. We’re not friends.” You said.

“Gosh, you’re breaking my heart!” he jokes, but deep down he was a little cut by that. You could tell by how he said no more smart remarks. He was silent.

You slid into your seat, watching your professor prepare the sliding whiteboards with awful scribbles of calculus. Gojo slid right next to you, settling his smart ass down a little closer than last time. He was aching to get closer to you in any way he could.

“I need a pen.” He whispered under his breath to you as soon as the lecture began.

“Seriously? Again? Where do you keep putting the ones I give you, up your ass?”

He smirked at you. Pretty blue eyes peaked over the rims of his sunglasses. You weren’t the only one to notice that he had them on indoors; the professor glanced over and immediately reprimanded him.

“Gojo, glasses off indoors, please. Don’t make me keep reminding you.” She said.

Gojo grumbled and reluctantly took them off, setting them down on the desk. You’d already began hastily scribbling notes, but all Gojo managed to do for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the lecture was drum his borrowed pen on his empty spiralbound notebook. He stole thirsted glances of you out of the corner of his eyes.

At some point his attention solely focused on you.

He observed you intently; the way you held your pen, the pace at which you write, your handwriting, how you leaned over just enough for your breasts to lightly squish against the desk.

“Hey.” He whispered to you.

You looked at him bemusedly. Ah, here he goes again. Fifteen minutes in and he has something to say to you.

“Can I copy your notes?” he asked.

“Seriously?” you whisper-shouted. The professor was so deep into her lecture about calculus that she didn’t notice Gojo starting to chat you up.

Asking to copy your notes was just his entry into flirting; what followed next was “I like your handwriting” and “so about that date…” and “there’s a party at my place this weekend…” and “wanna ditch this class together?”

“Satoru,” you said, “shut up, please.”

He shut up, not because you asked him to – he would have gone on and on despite your wishes, but you called his name. That took him aback so much so that he actually had to recompose himself and sit back, take in a breath, think for a bit. The way you pronounced his name had him in pieces.

Now came the part of the lecture where Satoru started making you laugh. You tried so hard not to, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – but he had a good humour, you couldn’t deny a few breathy laughs here or there.

His unwavering stare was so distracting. That and the fact he kicked his feet up on the desk. He took them down when the professor turned around, and then resumed his lazy position as soon as she turned back to the whiteboard.

“Satoru,” you began, “How is it that you never take notes and still pass?”

He shrugged. “I’m a prodigy. You’re sitting next to a real genius.”

You regretted asking.

He felt bad, so he gave you a small honest answer. “I cram at night.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would be nice to have a study buddy…” he suggested.

“No.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice? Let’s study in the library later.”

“No – ”

“Okay! I’ll meet ya there!” he smiled decisively, choosing to ignore your decline.

The class concluded, and Gojo lingered by your desk waiting for you to pack up. Some lovestruck girls always approached him at that point, and he held small talk with them. He absolutely let their compliments fuel his ego.

You tried to take advantage of the fact he was distracted by them so you could slip out of the lecture theatre unnoticed. But he had good eyes.

“Oh, gotta go. Bye.” He said hastily, eyes locked on you like you were his target. He practically tumbled down the desk levels to get to you.

Just as you disappeared beyond the door, he caught up with you, lanky body colliding with yours on ‘accident’. You thought it was deliberate, but it really was an accident – he was so clumsy around you. He threw you a lopsided, apologetic smile.

That familiar sad puppy expression developed on his features as you walked quickly down the corridor and ignored him. Inside, you were bitter about how he bathed in those girl’s attention.

He had his hands behind his back. A peculiar thing – he usually walked like he owned the place with his hands swinging like a model on a runway. You stopped abruptly in your tracks when you noticed his deflated behavior. He bumped into you again.

“Hey…”

“Sorry.” He muttered apologetically.

“… wanna get lunch together, after studying?” you offered, feeling bad for how you ignored him the whole walk to the library.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Yeah… uh, yes.” He almost choked. “Absolutely.”

After that, he had a pep in his step as he followed you into the library.

Studying with him was super unproductive. He kept teasing your face, pinching your cheeks and ears to get your attention and then when he had it, he started rambling about something.

Then he pulled giggles out of you. He did such goofy, stupid things.

“Look.” He said, so you looked away from your textbook.

You shook your head.

He had balanced a book on his head and bit his borrowed pen between his pearly whites.

“Don’t put my pen in your mouth! I don’t want your germs.” You said.

He grinned.

You had to admit… that was an attractive smile. The way his Addam’s apple subtly shifted. The way his eyes lit up. The way his eyes creased.

He took the book off his head and the pen out of his mouth.

“You don’t want my germs?” he pouted jokingly.

“No, no way.”

“How are we ever gonna kiss?”

“E – excuse m – what? Huh?”

Gojo giggled. He threw that in just to see your reaction.

“You sooo wanna kiss me.” He teased.

“Uh… I don’t…” you swallowed.

“You’re such a bad liar.” He said, his tone shifting into a genuinely serious one.

“I’m not lying. I’d never kiss you.” You spoke.

“Yeah?”

He brought his face closer to you. So close you could see the subtle freckles on his pale cheeks.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Gojo asked, peering at your soul with his eyes.

You stuttered, too stunned to response. What would you do? It was a genuine question, you could tell by the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really wanted to know.

“I don’t know…” you responded.

“Have you thought about it at all?” he asked. A slight nervousness shook his vocals. There was the smallest of voice cracks as he said ‘thought’.

Should you have been honest? You were looking into his eyes contemplatively. Was he trying to trick you? Was he gonna get an answer out of your lips and then humiliate you with it?

You just bit the bullet and said it.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

His eyes searched for any hints that you were kidding. You got his heart thumping, his blood rushing around so hard he felt dizzy.

It looked like he wanted to kiss you really badly, but your phone went off and ruined the moment completely. The lovey air dissolved between you and him and he wished it hadn't.

While you hastily took your phone call, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes that Gojo had a boyish blush on his face.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[soobibabe]

MOA bitchFUL era 6 members - 6 active

yeonjun: GUYS SOMEONE GOT FUCKING PRoPOSED TO INFRONT OF ME yeonjun changed group's name to "moa bitchFUL era"

taehyun: thats nice. good for them. yeonjun: AT SEND OFF? ??? I THOUGHT MOAS WERE LIKE US??? you: bitchless? yeonjun: YES? WHAT HAPPENED TO TOGETHERNESS? kai: no you've got a point

soobin: that's crazy me personally if someone proposed to me in front of bebe rexha I would looking at them with a blank expression and ask "who dis?" ngl beomgyu: don't speak, peasant soobin: ? you: what's up with you two? kai: soobins is in another dating scandal with the same guy as last time and beomgyus mad because (a) soobin didn't deny it (b) he didn't tell any of us and (c) the week prior, they were on another bromance trip again :3

yeonjun: ik its pride month, and I'm happy for you beomgyu or condolences BUT WE AS A COLLECTIVE NEED TO PREPARE FOR DISASTER! CRISIS! SSSSOOOSSS beomgyu: kys soobin: im NOT dating Seonghwa, Q, Keonhee or Zhang Hao guys ^.^ kai: WHORE why do you remember all their names you: exactly!!! why do you have other friends Choi Soobin?????? beomgyu: oh but when I say it I'm gay huh 😒 yeonjun: HELLOou*oo))000? ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGnORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM? MOA NO BITCHLESS ERA??? beomgyu: you're an elephant in the room taehyun: Oh, dear god. I fear you may actually be onto something yeonjun. What if we lose our fanbase? Should I start posting thirst traps again? Guys seriously. you: NO 🙅‍♀️🚫🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ we cannot go back to the dark ages PLSLLSLLSLS those tik tok posting schedules era was BRUTAL

yeonjun: Taehyun I love your big sexy wrinkled brain please don't change no jungkook kai: remember that time Namjoon exposed tyun for his JK wallpaper LMAOOOOOOOOOO taehyun: huening kai. kai: apologies. sorrows. soobin: oh my god no yeah pls TAEHYUN U ARE SO RIGHT y/n start first!!! guys!! this is an emergency!!!!!!!!!!!!! you: SHUTUTUT UPPUPPUPU yeonjun: Hes right, youre our main visual

beomgyu: guys if MOA start marrying each other does that mean no more fan service? if so I say lets support the movement!!! SICK and TIRED of seeing those "Y/N MARRY ME" comments on my welives soobin: hey I comment those taehyun: ??? you: well yeonjun: this reminds me of that one time I was on tik tok and a yeonjun x y/n imagine came up about us getting married and leaving txt OH MY GOD WAS THAT GOD FORESHADOWING kai: since when did you believe in god??? yeonjun: GUYS WHAT IF MOAS GETTING MARRIED ACTUALLY MEANS THAT Y/N AND I ARE GETTING MARRIED AND WE'LL LIVE HAPPILY E VER AFTER AND TXT WILL NOT GO EXTINCT AND WE KISS AND WE HOLD HANDS AND ONE DAY WE FALL INLOVE DEADASS AND HAVE 3 KIDS AND WE LIVE TOGETHER FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES AND RAISE LITTLE MODEL FASHION BABIES I CAN STYLE AND THEYD HAVE SUCH GOOD GENES DO YOU SEE THE VISION

beomgyu kicked yeonjun from moa bitchFULL era beomgyu: now that that's over, how about we go get ice cream? taehyun: sure. kai: ICE CREAM >>>.<<< ^////^

soobin: can we add him back i kinda like when he's off his hinges wait yes we can because I'm the leader and I say so HAHA soobin added yeonjun to moa bitchFUL era yeonjun: thanks soobin soobin did you know that I love you you know soobin? soobin kicked yeonjun from moa bitchFUL era soobin: boy wth was that you added yeonjun to moa bitchFUL era you: guys what if I said i have a long term low maintenance long distance low commitment casual boyfriend

you left moa bitchFUL era kai: ????? soobin: there's a g*n in my mouth actually yeonjun: did I just get cheated on? taehyun: wasn't I the long term low maintenance low commitment casual bf? wdym long distance?? kai: ????? x2 beomgyu: ☹️☹️?? I THOUGHT WE WERE SOULMATES?? soobin: ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

A/N: they’re all a little insane in today’s ep. sorry!

[reallyromealone]

hello if it's not much of a bother I'd like to request a bonten fic where they forget their lover's birthday, like he prepared their favourite food and even decorated their house but bc they had to deal w something important at work they forgot his birthday and even arrived home late. just pure angst pls (totally not bc of my nearing bday) have a great day/night!

It was supposed to be a happy day.

"Why am I even decorating for my own birthday?" (Name) mumbled teary eyed as he glanced at the clock it was a quarter to midnight already.

He made their favorite food on HIS birthday, he always put so much effort for them and they couldn't even attend an event he had to put together, hell Kokos birthday was all out!

(Name) wiped the tears away and tossed the food in the trash, the concept of it all sickening as he went to the guest bedroom, staring off to the wall "happy fucking birthday..."

It was three am when Bonten returned home, exhausted "what were we supposed to do again?" Rindō asked a little tipsy, the men having a few drinks at the business meeting "oh shit.." Mochi said wide eyed, immediately sobering up as they took in the penthouse, half torn decorations and thrown out food "shit..."

(Name) had locked himself in the guest room, the men knowing better than to try and break in.

Come morning (name) was silent as he came out of the guest bedroom, looking like he just survived a tornado with teary eyes and fixed himself a glass of (preferred drink) and paid none of them any mind "baby?" Ran asked the man who sat on the couch and stared at the tv that wasn't on "were sorry" Rindō said earnestly and the others nodded in agreement.

"Y'all can go fuck yourselves" (name) said simply, surprising Bonten as (name) was never the one to swear "how fucking come I am setting up MY OWN BIRTHDAY AND MAKING FOOD YOU SELFISH ASSHOLES WANT ON A DAY ABOUT ME?! SERIOUSLY WHAT KIND OF "LOVING HUSBANDS" MAKES THEIR OWN HUSBAND PUT TOGETHER HIS OWN BIRTHDAY AND THEN EXPECT HIM TO PUT THEIR PARTY TOGETHER?!" (name) was furious at this point, all his rage bubbling up to the surface as he stood up "baby calm--""don't tell me to calm down! I'm fucking furious!"

(Name) pushed them away and stomped off "we were busy!" Kakucho tried explaining "funny how you guys are always busy when it's stuff relating to me, my birthday, meeting my parents, any time I got sick... Hell our anniversary! I'm never a priority unless you guys need a good fuck!" (Name) was done as he grabbed his keys "call me when you assholes get your shit together" (name) said storming out, leaving Bonten alone.

"Oh we really fucked up" Koko said as the others nodded as a wave of realization washed over them that this may have been the final straw.

And they didn't even realize until it was too late.

[pumpkinsy0]

bout to be hit by a hurricane so any hcs on how the gang would react to natural disasters🤯

oh????😭 bro pls stay safe u gotta live to see into the spiderverse 3

•when it comes to tulsa i think theyve had their fair share if natural disasters, so to a degree, theyre all just used to it atp

•darrys the guy to b preparing and make sure everythings safe, whole time hes standing outside w his hands crossed in the back like a dad, mf get back inside❗️❗️

•dally doesnt rlly care all THAT much, hes like a stray cat and chances r he would left for a bit to not even deal w it, hes just annoyed he cant do what he wants to do, but hes MOSTLY sticking around for johnny and thats bcccc☝🏽☝🏽

•johnnys a bit of a worrier, hes double checking some things, he doesnt like loud noises, so he hates storms n such, hes always sticking beside someone and tries making sure everyones at LEAST present

•soda and two arent takin it all that seriously, they feel like darrys taking it too seriously and the media is just overestimating whats gonna happen, they think shit funny🙄

•look, steve is also annoyed, but LOOK, hes a part time employee, part time student, hes looking on the bright side and just glad he KINDA gets a break, plus he doesnt have to go back home for a while

•i feel like the only thing that actually get them to take it seriously is like tornados, considering if the house is fucked over, theyre just all homeless now, but tornados in tulsa r like, relatively rare????? i think???? correct me if im wrong, so like i said still generally fine

•HEATWAVES HOWEVER???? MY GOD😭😭, damn near all the gang get so upset when theyre in the heat, particularly dally and pony, theyre so pissy, and its kinda like ur walking on eggshells w em

•when it comes to blizzards n such, they r just like, generally unprepared for that. they dint rlly have the power, money, or clothes to get ready for it, so when it comes to that they just, tough it out, everyone just stays inside, theyre hoods but they arent trying to b hoods w frostbites, they will all kinda use each others body for warmth (pause)

•them ALL being cooped up in that house bc they have to b is both good and bad, good, bc theyre all together, bad bc some of em act like caged animals and get a lil rowdy/upset bc theyre bored or r just sick of it

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: pregnancy, addiction, break-up

2 weeks later...

I was on my way home. There was a kind of pumpkin- or autumn festival in the park, although it wasn't actually even really autumn? 🧐 Anyway! That's why I decided to go through the park today.

As I passed some autumn stands, I suddenly saw Daniel with a girl.😱 I quickly turned around/back, to hid somewhere on the side. Still, I risked another look because.... somehow I couldn’t believe it. But yea, there he was, with a girl!!😢 ... It hurt me sm to see him with her. I gotta get away, I thought!!! I felt really sick that moment.🤢 In RL, there was a Mc Donald's just a few steps away. So I rushed there to go to the toilet. But.... holly shit!! That damn Mc Donalds!!! I ran into a huge glass door!!! 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😄I thought it was open. Yup! SOO embarrassing!! However, after I peed, I got back out. As I was walking out the door, Daniel was standing there. With lowered eyes, I tried to pass him unnoticed but....

Daniel: Hi!... What are you doing here? Are you alone?

Me: Don't you remember? Today is Tuesday! I just had class. I'm going home. 😞

Daniel: Yea... Did you see me earlier? I felt like I was being watched.

Me: YES! I saw you! That sucks, yk?😫 .... Ugh, I- I wasn’t prepared to see you.... here today with your new.... crush. How about you sign the divorce papers? 😒😢

Daniel: Sorry..... I'm on it. Ok?... I gotta go.

Me: Wait!

Daniel: You weep? 😕

Me: M-my hormones are... runnig wild. Yk?

Daniel: Are you... ok? You and, your baby?

Me: We're fine. Thanks.... But-... Daniel! I-... 😥

Daniel: What?

Me: I-... I wanna be with you.... I miss you. I-... I know it's not right, but-

Daniel: In all seriousness......... You gotta be kidding me? 🤨

Me: No, I don't! I love you. And I also miss Lucky. Pls take me to him.... Why did you hurt me so much? I wanted to stay with you. You promised to always stay by my side, didn't you? Instead, you broke up with me. That was the worst thing you did to me. I thought I was dying this summer.... Now you're with that...-

Daniel: It’s over! I don’t listen to this shit! You, know why I didn’t want you near me anymore.

Me: Tell me damn it!! What have I done to you??? 🤷‍♀️😧

Daniel: No! Listen! If you wanna see Lucky, we.... can find a solution. I moved. I'll call you.... Bye!

Me: You moved??????????? Noo, Daniel! What happened to our apartment? 😢Why didn't you tell me? I loved this place....

Daniel: I couldn’t stand it there! And all your stuff... Almost everything in our apartment reminded me of you. I couldn't handle it.... .. you........ completely destroyed me. 😞

Me: No, please don't go! I wanna go with you D.

Daniel: .... Damn.

Me: Why don’t you want me anymore? It's bcs I'm hooked??... We can stay clean together. 😢💔

Daniel: Go home to your-... to him. 😞😒

Me: But I love you both. We can still be together....

I talked so much crap. I really wanted to prevent Daniel from going back to that girl. I know that was totally selfish of me. But I didn’t give a shit! I just didn’t understand why he dumped me?? My pregnancy wasn’t a prob for him, so what did I do wrong?? And that girl who accompanied him, got me SO pissed! She was at Mc Donald’s too, but I didn’t see her there, when I went out. Anyway, she came back. She saw Daniel and me talking...

Girl: Hey, sweetie... Ahhm who is that?

Daniel: Yk? I still got some things to do. We should table this.

Girl: So now what?... Don't you want me?... This is your chance to get me....🤫 laid, baby. Now or never? 😏

Daniel: Well, that may be, but... anyway.

Girl: Huh? Where are you even looking? What's going on here? And who ist that fat girl?

Me: We are married! (dumb bitch) 🤨And I'm pregnant!

Daniel: Yea that's true, but it's not my baby!

Girl: I'm not stupid, sweetheart! I should have gone with your brother, but I thought you were the cute one. You with your green eyes and...hm? You have preety teeth, by the way.

Me: 🤢🙉

Daniel: Fine, just call Alex! I’m sure he can still.... schedule you somewhere in between. 😬

Girl: You’re serious, aren’t you?

Daniel: Listen, maybe later, ok? But, I gotta go now. Sorry.

Daniel just left. I have no idea where he was going or what he was up to? So I also went home, to..... Nico. 😬🤦‍♀️And tomorrow morning, I’ll go to Daniel. He texted me at 1:00 a.m. I couldn’t help it, I went to see him and I also wanted to see Lucky again. ❤️🐱

Previous/Next

[the-kr8tor]

Okay waitwaitwaitwaitwaitWAIT A DAMN MINUTE

Ik I was off Tumblr for some time, but I was NOT prepared to see THIS.

bdas 2? Really? Katy, have you not hurt me enough in the first book?

But OMG AM I EXCITED TO SEE PIRATE!HOBIE AGAINNN

No but really. Katy, if you hurt just ONE INNOCENT SOUL ON TUMBLR OR IN BDAS WITH YOUR PLOT, I WILL FIND YOU.

(no but seriously, I am very excited and very thankful for you that you’re gonna continue it. Tysm!! Pls feed and hydrate yourself, cuz I always forget to do it myself lol. Stay healthy and drink tea!! (something I can never do (I’m sick and I want tea but I’m just too lazy) but nvm) Thanks again, love ya 🫶💖)

-❄️

Omg welcome back ❄️ anon!!! I missed seeing you here! How have you been, angel?

Yeess there will be bdas 2! You probably missed another series of mine that I just finished, it's called our place in the middle of nowhere! It's a cowboy! Hobie au!!!!! Also there will be a Hobie event this October so stay tuned for that 😄

Sameee I'm very excited to write for him again! Also no promises that i will not hurt anyone HAHAHHAHAHA

Thank you too, angel!! I'm so happy you loved bdas sm ❤️ please take care of yourself! And get that tea! Will do 🫡 ly too ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[the-elevator-twins]

>[The pocketed doll clearly feels strong disdain for the two seated with Neil. Is it because he hates them? Or because it knows what they are? No matter, it continues to urge him, to kill them. It gives him confidence, the thought that he could kill them.]

>[It wants to hurt them just as badly as he does, just as badly as you wanted to on floor 8- why is that his first thought? Doesn't matter.]

>["Bruce" is shaken up when you head out, bringing it along. It's full of anxiety, and you feel it yourself, in your veins. It tries to tell you to go back, in it's ow little way. It doesn't think it's safe. It's warning you of... Neil? Telling you t be afraid of your "twin".]

> "And that's all? What? Do you seriously think you're going to stop us? Come on, we're pals! I'm sure we can-"

> "You two–things–are not my 'pal'. Simple as that, I want you to stay the fuck away from him."

> "Or what? Do you seriously think you stood a chance? 2v1, and you think you're getting out of this unscathed. . . Stupid."

(î) > They lunge at you, manic looks in their eyes as they prepare to tear you apart. However, you're prepared. Kicking one monster down, your priority to kill these two freaks yourself. If there's one thing, it's your quick thinking and agility against two meat heads. With your scissors drawn, you began reliving old experiences.

(î) > Things that made you feel good, feelings of being cheered on for your work. These two couldn't coordinate even if they tried. You'll win this battle by any means necessary.

(i) > Absent minded, you push on, panicking, and you search for him. Shouting into the abyss, holding Bruce close, you don't have that much strength to properly fight, but you reckon you'll be alright.

> "Pl-Please, please be alright. . ! Please don't be dead. . !!"

(i) > You know Bruce is adamant about not exploring this place, and neither are you. You want to go back to safety, back to that false sense of security in your home. You haven't forgotten what your "twins" done to you. The pain in your hand is still present.

(i) > He's all you had left at this God awful company. This place of bewilderment and chaos. You needed a job, this job to support yourself. All you wanted was a stable income, do what was asked of you, and return home on your own personal time. What's wrong with that?

(i) > You spot something in the distance. It looks like an open bar. Keeping Bruce close, you try to pick up the pace as it slowly comes closer. The distant shouts and sounds of fighting can be heard.

> "NEIL!! NEIL HOLD ON!!"

(i) > By the time you get there, you're a panting mess, needing to catch a break. Seeing your "twin" loom over two bodies of your coworker and his colleague, you see the terror in their eyes that slowly become lifeless. Pocketing Bruce from view you raised up your hands, hearing your "twin" laugh in a sick and twisted manner.

> "Ah. . . That was rejuvenating. I've been wanting to scratch that itch for a long time now. . ."

> "N-Neil-- Neil, I need you to calm down -"

> "Oh, I'm calm, trust me. This is probably the calmest I've ever felt falling down here."

(i) > You see him clutch at his stomach as he laughs. Is he insane? In pain? Hungry? In all honesty, you can't tell. Seeing those scissors again makes you panic, but you keep a safe distance from his reach. Instinctively, you back away before your flight response kicks in.

> "HEY! GET BACK HERE!!"

(i) > Now you're on the run from your "twin," whose maniacal laughter echos within the void. You don't dare turn your head back and keep running into the darkness from where you came.

[sangre-andeo]

making a slightly angsty post at 5 am bc i cant sleep, IGNORE ME its probably not that great.

SPOILER ALERT!!: this contains a MAJOR spoiler from the Trials of Apollo series, don't remember exactly which bc its been ages since I read em. if they r ooc PLS don't kill me, i just wanted to write smth lol, idk how any of this works

Grieving Jason Grace, from Percy's point of view:

"The night you died, I felt it. Woke up in a cold sweat, with no idea why I felt so sick or why my heart was racing so fast. I was too on edge to go back to bed. I stayed up all night, watched the sun rise outside. The feeling didn’t go away. It followed me like a shadow until I finally got the news. Even now, it doesn’t feel real. I don’t want to believe you’re gone. I’m wrecked, I can’t even imagine how Piper and Leo are feeling right now. I don’t even know what I’m doing, I’m alone here just speaking into the wind. I guess I’m just hoping somewhere in Elysium you can hear me, because I know I won’t ever get the chance to say any of this to your face. So, here’s everything I never got the chance to say. Jason Grace, I admired the shit out of you. From the moment I found myself in Camp Jupiter, I knew someone like you was one of a kind. Everyone spoke of you so highly, it was almost intimidating. I knew I could never be what you were to them. And when I met you, I knew I’d been right about one thing. You are irreplaceable. To learn who you actually were under the reputation you had, I saw myself in you. We were just kids, kids with more power than we were prepared to wield. Kids who learned as they went, improvising the whole way and hoping to make it. You were the best of us, Grace. Brave, and kind, and fair. Passionate and honest. One of the most genuine men I will ever know. A smart, fierce fighter. And an incredible leader. There will never be another you, and I don’t know how to cope with that. I’m going to miss your friendship, your ideas, every small thing that made up the person you were. Meeting someone like you only happens once in a lifetime if anyone is as lucky as I’ve been. I just wish I’d gotten the chance to tell you how much your friendship meant to me. I guess I took advantage of the idea that you’d always be around. Call me naive, but I was under the impression that defeating a primordial evil meant we could rest for a while. Didn’t think I’d lose one of the strongest people I know so soon. Shows what I know, huh? I don’t think I’m making much sense, and I’m pretty sure if you were here- well I don’t think you’d laugh, but it would be harder to take myself seriously if you were here staring at me. I just wanted to say goodbye. I miss you, man. I hope that, in our next lives, we find each other again. Until then, I’ll wait to fight beside you on the battlefield, Superman. Rest easy."

[belokhvostikova]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | 1989, and Eddie Munson has branded himself the playboy of Indianapolis... particularly to your best friend, Winnie Ambrose. Finally sick of being manipulated by his eight inch cock, Winnie looks to you to take down the man. It was simple: make him fall in love, and break his heart. Only, is it ever really simple?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, arguments, mentions of alcohol/ alcohol consumption, some rude friends, mentions of insecurities, a lot of disrespect and gross behavior (fuckboy-ary), I don't know how to tag this, but Eddie literally runs into traffic, not in a "I wanna die" type of way, but... you'll see, and explicit sexual content: mentions of sex toys, fondling, mentions of sex, and oral (male receiving).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Prepared to be grossed out, you're not like other girls. Also, I need y'all to seriously envision Cher and Dionne making over Tai from Clueless in one particular scene in this... just a lil more chaotic, por favor. Also, Reader over here is making latte art! I don't drink coffee, so it's probably wrong, but that's not on me (it is). Oh, and some John Tucker Must Die/ The Notebook references!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10.7K

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐀-𝐍-𝐎-𝐍-𝐘-𝐌-𝐎-𝐔-𝐒

It didn’t match. For the fifth time in a row, the piece didn't match. 

You huffed, flinging the illustrated paperboard piece to the once organized pile of others alike, as your back felt the relief of falling against the fluff of your carpet. Stupid puzzle. The clock breached 11:07 P.M, and as promised, something bad was bound to happen for your lack of completion by midnight. 

Why you set yourself up for failure, you don’t know. But the premise of speaking potential consequences into the universe seemed to be your only motivation in life at the moment. And it, too, was a fun game. One that had your back aching against the four hours of stationary sitting on your floor, as your fingers cramped to piece together one thousand segments of the world map. Though, at this given moment, you were losing hope in Africa ever gaining its southern countries, and Asia was a lost cause. 

Your eyes twirled to the low oscillation of your ceiling fan. What if it just fell? At least it’d give you a moment of excitement. Something to finally say when thirty pairs of eyes would scrutinize you during the horrific experience of ice-breakers, before the mortifying revelation would dawn upon you that you really were just… boring. 

Your fingers dug into the sockets of your eyes. One harsh sufficient rub was enough to cut whatever impeding yawn short. You still had fifty-three minutes, and if the past twenty-one years of good deeds meant anything, maybe the universe would lighten up and spare you of any reprimand for the non fulfillment of puzzle promises. 

Your head turned. Hey, what do you know, there was Yugoslavia under your bed all along-

“C’mon, c’mon, don’t got all day.” Your hair scrunched under the swift turn of your head, as you listened to the blatant disregard of respect, hearing your front door slam into shuttering vibrations. 

A scoff. An all too familiar scoff. “Geez, Eddie, way to a get a girl goin’.” Winnie Ambrose.

Your face contorted in despair, with quiet gruffs of whines softly pleading to yourself. “Please go to the bedroom, please go to the bedroom, pl-” 

“Just do it right here, seriously, got no time, baby.” Oh, no. Suddenly, you were slapping yourself silly for the stupid mistake of not investing in headphones. And as much as you could try to muster, the completion of Angola would not be satisfactory enough to distract from the lewd noises that defiled your living room couch. “Yeah, yeah, put it in your mouth, go on, finally shut you up.”

Your endeavors prompted you to the cushioning of your bed, where you found the will to rather die of asphyxiation under the thickness of your pillows, than listen to the onslaught of moans that were about to proceed the thinness of your apartment walls. Four hundred thirty-seven a month to have your ears violated by the uncomfortable noises of your best friend and her weekly endeavors. 

His voice hummed faintly. “Mm, yeah, just like you fucking know how to do it.” A month of cohabitation with Winnie Ambrose brought you the glorious gift of Eddie Munson, an enigma. There was never a face painted to the stumper that was Eddie Munson, but the details alone left your mind spiraling to the paradox of a man that infested your friend’s life. 

“Like that?”

“Sh, sh, no talking, just suck.” Your face scowled. 

Should the night go as it always does, Winnie would have her rendezvous, his heavy footsteps would proceed with a quick leave, her shouting voice of insults would follow before the slam of the front door silenced her, and her tears of complaints would flow down your shoulder. 

For a man like that, you had viable reason to believe he’d never step foot back into your apartment, and yet, every week proved you wrong. Her constant, “god, I could just kill him, do you know how much of an asshole he is?!” would presumably follow up with an, “okay, I know what you’re thinking, don’t give me that look, it’s just this one time!” 

It never was just one time. 

Eddie Munson had the chokehold of a python on Winnie Ambrose… and apparently a third of Indianapolis’ female population. Though, where you could criticize her for her poor choices, you could also applaud her in the fact that she even had a choice to begin with. Her Friday nights were actually spent living her youth with the liveliness of freedom, whilst you were evidently stuck being “piece” maker for the United Nations. 

No guy was ever making you a choice.

But you know, it’s not like you couldn’t be a choice. Yeah, you totally could be. You just… you know, had to put yourself out there more. You weren’t totally invisible. People acknowledge you, like in high school! There was always a polite ‘m’sorry’ to come whenever shoulders were knocked in the crowdedness of halls. Granted, it’s not like any of those people ever knew your name. That notion was really cemented when watching teachers wrack their brains on the potential name you owned after seeing your hand raised, settling on that ‘miss’ that followed you around for four years. But you were totally there. Otherwise they would have never called on you. Then again, it’s not like anyone else in class ever raised their hand. 

There. Perceived. Maybe even acknowledged. Just not known.

Just anonymous. 

But maybe things worked best as such. Safe, at least. You’d been safe ever since you were seen. Actually seen. Seen by him. Or, you thought he saw you. Your eyes scrunched at memories that felt too vivid for the years it had been since they transpired in reality. But as quick as your eyes were to close, they shot open against the abrasive clash of glass splattering against the floor. “Winnie.”

Your legs worked before your brain, jostling you out of the comfort of your bed to swing your bedroom door open to the expanse of your living room. “God, you are such a pig!” Couch pillows of ammunition went flying into the arms of the figure before you, his back turned to you to catch the onslaught of fluffy attacks. “You’re just a no, good, lying scumbag! Ugh!” Hurling over his shoulder, you ducked to avoid the incoming stuffed bullet.

His boots crunched against shattered glass. “Christ, you’re fucking crazy, would you fucking relax?!” His smirk—unbeknownst to you—only spawned that thumping vein in Winnie’s forehead to accentuate; a sick pride in being able to elicit this reaction from her. “Call me all the fucking names you want, you were still desperate enough to suck me off.” 

“AH! GET OUT!” Her still-heeled feet stomped to shove him back. Nothing but his sinister laughter echoed against the clash of her vocal frustrations, as he let her ardent pushes barely sway him from his stance. “You piece of shit!” Having gotten everything he needed for the night, Eddie took to her persistent shoves, and turned on his heels. All energy lost for his time. “GO!” In a split second, his eyes caught yours, and the sight of his face hit you like a ton of bricks. That was Eddie Munson. Nothing but confusion lingered upon your face, as the tense air became tainted by the complaints of Winnie. “I’m never calling you again, you dickhead! Get out!” His legs, for once, stumbled to her strength, and you watched his eyes fall to the length of your body, before the slam of your front door vanished his existence.  

Winnie huffed. Her back straightened against the door handle, breath regulating, throat clearing, and hands pushing away unruly hair.

You stared in awe. “What the hell was that?” You implored. 

“That asshole is to never step foot into this apartment again.” Wide eyed crazy, her finger came pointing at you. “I mean it, Y/N, if I so much as speak his name, you need to slap me straight.”

“Okay, but do you wanna explain what the hell happened, why our vase is shattered on the ground?! Winnie, our vase! My vase!” Thirty-seven bucks wasted on that antique shop. So gaudy, yet so beautiful. Tragic. 

Your face frowned. “That asshole happened!” Winnie groaned, raking harsh fingers through the length of her auburn extensions. “God, I’m over here giving him the best head of his life,” your face scrunched in disgust, “and that asshole has the nerve to forget my name. My name?!” 

Your shoulders deflated under the pretense of a disappointed parent. “So, what?! You took it out on my vase?! Win, come on, you’ve been saying the worst thing about this guy for a month, what were you expecting?” 

“Y/N, for the love of God, I bumped into it.” She deadpanned. “And you know what, I ask myself the same damn thing, god, I’m so stupid!” She plopped onto the couch. “That bastard knows exactly what he’s doing,” an incredulous laugh rips through her throat, “sweet-talking girls, getting in their pants, only to stutter out some bullshit name that isn't yours- god, Y/N, he called Therese!” She gagged. “That bitch who works on 4th Avenue East, he’s fucking her, too!”

So sullen. “My vase.”

“He’s not getting away with this.” Winnie stood on sore feet and knees, a stern finger directed at you, as if you suddenly became the perpetrator. “Something, c’mon, I gotta think of something to get that piece of shit back.” 

“How ‘bout stop speaking to him?”

“No!” Her whines viciously penetrated your ears. “I have to make him suffer! God, for all the shit he puts us girls through, he has to pay!” You watched her face cinch with perplexity to the ideas her mind was too tipsy to conjure. The advice of letting it go was burning at the tip of your tongue, but too hard-headed to accept, you knew your words would be dismissed for a punishment up to par to Winnie Ambrose’s standards. “Ugh, I’ll think of something later.” She gave up. “But right now, I’ve gotta make an order.”

Her ankles turned with the thickness of heels, and you watched her stomp off into the direction of her bedroom. “Order what?”

“A vibrator. I’m done with men.” Liberation. 

You sighed. “My vase.”

-

“Um… hm, um…” 

Your eyes discreetly rolled, an impatient finger repeatedly tapping the end of your pen; a click for how close your sanity was thinning. “Sir, I can come back whenever you’re re-”

“Just a moment, um…” 

Your back straightened with frustration. The sheets of your notepad wrinkled under the humid perspiration of your hands, as your entertainment was now left with nothing more than to mindlessly wander your gaze about, as the customer before you took waitstaff a little too seriously for your liking. On cue, the alerting bell of the front entrance piqued your interest, where your eyes widened at the sight of his familiar silhouette, and suddenly the elderly customer taking his sweet time became more of a priority. 

“How ‘bout a cappuccino? Cappuccino sound good? Great! I'll grab that cappuccino for you!” Rushing behind the counter, you discreetly watched him take his usual place. Back corner, by the window. Eddie Munson’s chair- or what was formerly known: cute guy with the long hair’s chair. 

“I-”

But, now, the events of last night had tainted the little crush that became your only source of motivation to show up to work every day to serve rude people, who didn’t have the skill set of self control to manage their crankiness before their morning cup of coffee. 

Suddenly, everything clicked. 

From the first moment you saw him, your eyes lingered on the strut of confidence that defined his nature; dark and mysterious, claiming his chair with a notebook that never left his hand. You never would have expected “your” guy to actually have been Winnie’s guy, and apparently the majority of other women’s guy. You should have seen it sooner. When one day, a frown etched upon your face seeing your crush waltz in with a girl in hand, presumably a girlfriend. But when said girl never accompanied him again, that smile was right back on your face. 

Until the cycle continued. Repeatedly. Numerously. 

And yeah, maybe the obvious signs of Eddie Munson being the biggest player was slapping you right in the face, but nothing could touch that idealized fantasy you’d like to curate. What the hell else was supposed to make the hours go by? It’s not like it was anything serious. Just a crush. Like Timmy Plyth in the eighth grade, after lending you a much needed pencil. God forbid someone was nice to you, you’d plan out both your futures together. Delusional sure, but the sincerity of it all was never a foundation. Suddenly, watching Timmy Plyth overly use the word ‘bro’ was enough to have your insides cringing, and quickly, he was nothing. 

Eddie Munson was nothing. 

So, it was effortless for you to easily chalk up the array of beautiful women by his side as second cousins coming to visit, though, the flirtatious way he’d play with their hair was surely too gross; perhaps an innocent friend looking for a catch up, then again, there was nothing innocent about the way his lips would glue to hers; or hell, maybe a first date gone bad, because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the waitress that took his breath away, though Eddie Munson had never once actually looked at you. 

Until, he did. 

Tuesday, three weeks ago, had been a particularly gloomy evening, with regulars skipping their usuals to avoid the downpour of dark clouds over city skylines. Quiet and peaceful, the coffeehouse hummed with the white noises of pages turning from worn books and lips sipping upon the enriching black warmth that filled colorful mugs. Like clockwork, his boots squelched with wetness, a leather jacket clinking against metal, water droplets that refused to soak up the material, and his notebook in hand.

Though, this time alone.

Taking his designated seat in the back, you located your coworker who adorned that customer service smile, as she busied herself elsewhere. Your nervous hands rubbed against your waist apron, as you quietly approached him. 

The scrape of his pencil against the pages tickled your ear, as his scent collided with the deep coffee beans and baked goods that surrounded you. Bats. Scribbled and sketched against the great expanse of drawings that tied to the plethora of words that creatively polluted the once blank canvas. 

“Those, uh, those are nice drawings.” 

His head spun to yours, and your soft smile allowed a matching one to invade his face. “Uh, thanks… yeah, thanks, they’re not really, y’know, anything special.” At the time, your innocent heart pattered at his obvious gaze that lingered too intently to be ever “just friendly,” though now, your stomach turned at the realization that something more impure was causing those dimples to flaunt. A smile so devilish it sickly resembled his… Dalto- “But, uh, means a lot coming from you.” Barf. You should have told him to fuck off, now knowing what you know. 

But your lovesick mind shyly giggled and flushed your cheeks with heat. “Just because you don’t think they’re special doesn’t mean they aren’t great. Seriously, they are. A-And why does it mean a lot coming from me?” Your brow pointed. 

“Nice people give out genuine compliments.” His shoulders shrugged like it was simple. “See you given’ that lady and her baby free food all the time, no? That’s you.” 

He has seen you. “Oh, yeah, Margaret, she’s, um, super sweet, lives in my building. Times are just a little hard for her s’all, so I don’t mind having a couple sandwiches taken out of paycheck for her.” 

“Yeah, see, nice. You wouldn’t lie to me.” Eddie stated factually, face hardened, no longer brandishing whatever smirk he played to swoon his next hookup. 

Such stoicism left you confused in the wake of a brief ten second quietness. Perhaps you had misread that first interaction, and he had no interest in pursuing you. Wouldn’t be the first time. Sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. “Um, so, w-what would you like to order, sorry?”

“Just a latte will do if that’s fine.” He gave a light smile your way, as your head nodded in confirmation. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’ll have that right out for you, sir.” Your feet moved with no thought, mentally cursing yourself for the embarrassment of referring to him as an older man. And you heard those airy chuckles of amusement huff through his nose, dissipating in the wind, as you made your escape. But you’d become oblivious to the round eyes that softly stuck to your swaying body, adorned in the combination of rain boots and skirt that had his fingers painting the pages of his notebook with a particular figure in rain boots and skirt. 

Steamed milk had an interesting way of gluing the fabric of your shirt to your skin with the humidity that matched that of the sticky drizzle outside. Like watercolors, the cedar espresso collided with pearl milk, and with a quick glance to your left, his broadened back met you, as his arm flexed to the rhythm of his drawing. 

Creamy foam met the tawny caffeine, and your barista skills concocted a small bat to ripple into his latte. Sufficed with your art, you gently maneuvered your way to his direction, where the delicate clicks of your small pumps informed your arrival. 

But before Eddie could muster out any form of conversation, you dropped off your service with a polite, “enjoy your drink,” to save you from the inevitable embarrassment your mouth would spew. 

But as you looked back, you watched the phlegmatic corners of his lips turn to a genuine smile at the sight of your curated artwork… for him. 

“Seeing Miss Long Legs now, huh?”

The bustling cacophony of the crowded coffeehouse snapped you back to reality. “Huh?” You looked at your coworker. 

Your eyes caught sight of the wedges that announced themselves to the tall woman, so modelesque, with a sundress that complimented her complexion. “Save yourself the trouble, and don’t involve yourself with that man.” Maude, grabbing a lemon-raspberry muffin for the man across the counter, grumbled under her breath. 

“What? Oh, no, I’m not, like- I was just zoning out, sorry.” You resumed your position to formulate an unwanted cappuccino, as your eyes slyly peered to the intimate greeting Eddie shared with the beautiful woman. 

“Right, well, still, sooner or later, that man is gonna swoon you over whenever you get the chance to wait on him, and it’s gonna be really tempting to say yes, but you better say no.” Your brows furrowed. Eddie Munson hadn’t explicitly made a move on you. Were you really that unappealing that even he didn’t want you? God, how pathetic were you to stoop that low? “It’s what he does. Works you up, get you all flustered, takes you out on some cheap date, but makes up for it with the love bombing, and before you know it, he’s got you right where he wants you: his bed.” Her gum smacked to the intensity of her accent. 

“Yeah, uh, I bet. My roommate, she, uh, kinda had a thing with him.” You grimaced. 

Maude laughed, her gold jewelry jingling to the waves of her expression. “Oh, no, honey, Eddie Munson doesn’t do “things.” That’s what he makes you believe, but soon you realize he never actually had feelings for you.”

Your stomach plummeted at her words, an overwhelming sense of discomfort suddenly hitting. Memories. Bad ones. You sucked in a heavy breath, and attempted to blink away the negative pictures that began infesting your mind. “Oh. Um, how do you know?”

You worriedly watched her face contort into anguish. “Oh, y’know-” her voice cracked, tears brimming her eyes, “just heard around.” The muffin became mush in her hand, as she ran into the back. The awaiting customer blankly stared at you.

Eddie Munson was Dalton Barron. 

And you wouldn’t go down that road again. 

-

Blisters had been bubbling on your feet. Seven hours and thirty minutes of standing left you contrite on this morning’s choice of attempting to be stylish by breaking in your new flats—all too cute not to be worn. Coffee had stunk itself into your hair, and you were verging on the brink of tears after a shift of being yelled at, after the inevitable occurred when you misheard a customer's eight step instruction to their frappe. And to make matters worse, your key was taking too long to slot into the doorknob. 

But the clashing of brassy metals that clung from your keychain announced themselves before you could, alerting your very own kidnapper to haul you into your apartment, with a purity ring—for the sake of her—that dug into the skin of your arm. “I got it!” 

You swore your wrist popped with the pull Winnie had on you, as she dragged you into the space of her bedroom. “Got what- wait, if it’s this new vibrator you were talking about, I don’t wanna-”

“No, it’s not a vibrator!” You dropped with a bounce on her bed, as her hands shoved themselves upon your shoulder. “That doesn’t come till Wednesday.” She collected herself straight. “Anyways, I got it, I got my revenge plan! You know, for Eddie?” 

Your fingers pushed themselves into your temple, as your eyes felt too heavy for this conversation. “Oh, Winnie…”

“I’m serious, Y/N, I’ve got the perfect plan!”

“You know, he actually came by the coffeehouse, met up with this really pretty girl-”

“Ugh, what a slut.”  Winnie grumbled with disgust, a deeply offensive eye roll to pair, as well. “God, I swear, that penis is going to fall right off, and then he’ll truly be left with nothing.” She sighed, fluffing her hair from her face. “But back to business, Y/N, I… am going to ruin his manhood.”

You dryly blinked. “...By making his penis fall off…?”

“No!” Her petulant mewl came with a frustrated stomp that made your giggle. “By making him fall in love!” That look never left your face, in fact, worsened to the oddity of her scheme. “Stop looking at me like that, I’m serious! We have to make him fall in love!”

You incredulously chortled. “I thought the whole Eddie Munson thing was not falling in love? And wait a minute, you promised not to speak to him anymore, I don’t want to have to slap you, Winnie.”

“I’m not going to do it, you are!”

You promptly stood from the bed, matching her height with an urgency in your eye that challenged her crazy ones. “I am not talking to Eddie Munson, are you insane?!” 

“No, but you have to!” Winnie desperate beseeched. “Y/N, c’mon, do this for me! Just hear me out, okay? You don’t actually have to, like, y’know, date him. Just lead him on! It’s that ego of his, we have to crush his ego!”

“Winnie,” you sighed, “Eddie wouldn’t even go for me-”

“Of course, he would! You’re hot shit!” Your face dropped entirely unconvinced. “And Eddie’s totally going to see that when you go to his gig tonight.”

“I’m not going to anyone’s gig tonight!” 

“Hold on, wait! Before you say no…” Winnie stopped your incoming decline with a cold finger hoisted to your lips to hush your words, before she childishly scampered her way into the closet. Rummaging through the mountain of clothes she was adamant to hang up yesterday, her hands finally grappled onto her last hope. “Okay, ready? Ta-da!”

So sensationally lurid, with yellows, greens, and purples that didn’t match not one bit. So tacky it was beautiful. Your hands grabbed for it. “My vase!”

“Ah- no!” So offended, your mouth dropped, as Winnie denied you the right to receive your child. “You can only get this,” waving the delicacy around to taunt you, “if you agree to go to the gig tonight.”

You scoffed. Well played. “T-That is, like, literal coercion.”

“C’mon, look, Eddie’s got a big thing with pride, okay? I highly doubt that man’s ever seen rejection in life, so, when he expects all the girls to be flaunting themselves at him, he’ll see that everyone is except you.” Winnie was beginning to get that crazy look in her eyes. “Eddie’s gonna want what he can’t have, so, he’ll automatically go for you! But you, Y/N, you’re stronger than I am, and you are going to turn him down in every which way, only giving a little and taking away, until he is some desperate, little puppy following you around. And then, he’ll finally, FINALLY understand what it's like. Asshole…”

Winnie puffed her chest, catching her breath, as her hands fervently clutched to your vase. You could see it in her face how desperate she was just to have him hurt, even if it was just a little bit. Just to feel what she and many other girls did, because of him. You sighed. “Winnie, he’s not going to look at me.”

Without a word, she shoved the vase into your hands, before marching into her closet once more, where hangers scraped against the rack, as Winnie aggressively shuffled through the array of clothes she possessed. Retrieved was a dress of angelic white satin and lace that cascaded just enough to save you from a public indecency charge. “Not if you wear this!” She beamed.

Beauty is pain came with such candor.

“God, Winnie, he’s not seeing my underwear, why do I have to wear these?” So tight and lodged in the crevices of your lady parts, disturbing you to no avail. “It’s about feeling sexy! If you feel sexy, you’ll exude sexy!” The next travesty to come came in the form of said dress, by a sadistic designer who found much gratification in the torture of stomachs through the depths of lustrous material hell. With a corset to secure, Winnie was hoisting the attached strings into oblivion. 

“C’mon, just suck in for me!” Her grip tightened around the lacing. “My lungs are going to explode if I suck in anymore!” You’d never felt your body more accentuated, with your boobs practically grazing your chin with how much Winnie was able to lift them with the right bra and a bruised rib cage. 

And before you knew it, a suffocated squeal was burrowed out of your throat, when Winnie pushed your stiff body onto the softness of her bed. “Shoes, shoes, shoes! You need the perfect shoes!” Suddenly, strappy platforms of six inches were being shoved on your newly painted toes. “Hey, wait, slow down, Win, I’m gonna break an ankle, I don’t do anything over three inches.” But clasps were being secured around your ankles before your protest could be of any success. Winnie snorted. “Well, maybe that’s why you’re so uptight.” Your jaw dropped. 

-

On the outskirts of Alcona Drive, under city lights and bustling traffic, a tattoo parlor sits next to a bar of proverbial rock and metal. Corroded Coffin play here every Saturday night. You were here Saturday night. 

You clung to Winnie’s arm like a child, maneuvering through the sea of people who found vacancy in the open air parking lot for intermission breaks. With rough asphalt embedding itself to the outsoles of your heels, Winnie became your only support after bubbling anxiety worsened the wobble that an additional six inches to your height had had on you. 

Had you been calm, you would have accepted the gentle zephyr of the night that now suddenly felt as though it was biting at your skin with the uneasiness of your tummy. As a compromise, Winnie, at least, gave you the grace of sporting a leather jacket to hide behind. 

“Okay, just remember,” I.Ds flashed to the bouncer, “be cool and collected. Eddie’s not going to approach you if you’re fawning over him.” 

“I’m not going to fawn over him.” Your body flinched at the rattle of conversations that mushed into deafening discordance that blared into your ear. Strobes of stage lights blew up your pupils, as you observed the Saturday night lives of people who found hedonistic liberation through buzzing music and weightless drinks. 

Had your heart not sank to your ass, you would have understood why Winnie Ambrose loved going here. 

But for you, your nails were sinking into the skin of Winnie’s arm, but she would endure the bitter sting, as long as it would appease your silent suffering. She was, in fact, the reason you were dragged here. 

“Look, we’ll do a lap before we settle.” Winnie screamed into your ear. 

Before you could question her motives, a drunken screech interrupted your train of thoughts. “Winnie!” You’d forgotten she had friends outside of you. 

Your legs jostled at the strength of Winnie’s pull, hauling you to a group of strangers whose overpowering perfumes skirmished with the breaths of cocktails that lingered in their vicinity. Squeals of greetings were exchanged, as you timidly stepped back, watching what an actual social interaction was between people who had real lives. 

“This is,” her jewelry-ridden hand clasped to your wrist, “this is Y/N!” Small smiles with the company of tiny waves and head nods was all that was proffered to you, and you wondered if Terry Werner’s unsolicited words of you being “standoffish” as the reason as to why you sat alone in the middle school cafeteria were actually true. Then again, you couldn’t fault Winnie’s friends for how quickly they turned away from you, when you stood with nothing but a precautious stare with lips so tightly inward. “Y/N, this is Janet! Janet’s dating Walker! This is Walker’s sister, Karey! Karey’s dating Danaisha! This is Peneolope! Oh, that’s Jaiden- uh, Jaiden’s roommates with Sebastian! And my friend Carly!” Abruptly, Winnie’s warm breath was fanning against your ear. “And Janet is secretly hooking up with Seb, so don’t say anything, because he’s also doing it with Pen, who quite literally just had a threeway with Jaiden and another girl, who happened to Danaisha’s ex, who she claims not to be hung up on, yet still frequently talks to behind Karey’s back, so...” God, is this what adulthood was?!

Perhaps you were the wrong person to tell, as a series of confused looks were thrown your way when your freshly plucked eyebrows—upon Winnie’s request—severely sold your face away to the unnerving settlement you earned from the incestuous ties that happen to hold this group together.

But their judgements didn’t hold for too long, as Winnie’s dramatic recollection of the past week left her friends violently ignoring your presence.

At an attempt to wave off the awkwardness you were certain people could feel, you faintly bobbed your head to the music that lowly vibrated from the speakers; an appeasement to bar goers who drunkenly waited for the performance intermission to pass. 

Your eyes darted, jumping from corner to corner, swiftly locking eyes with strangers who maneuvered every which way. Your teeth began to anxiously gnaw into your glossed lips, as deep unsettlement bubbled in your belly at the realization your eyes were searching for a specific face, one’s who you truly had no business festering upon. 

Winnie Ambrose was completely out of her mind if she even thought for a second Eddie Munson would fall for this. 

This wasn’t self-deprecation. This was utter reality. 

Heels of different heights, all styled to the zeitgeist of the blooming 90s, complimented the women of the bar so beautifully. So many kinds of smiles brightened the dimly lit setting, with colors brandishing their lips from enticing, deep plums to the beauty of a natural hue. With an array of bodies on display just for him, Eddie Munson wouldn’t even fathom the idea of you.

A guitar riff ripped through the dense air.

Drenched in the center spotlight, the blinding shine illuminated that signature smile that etched itself onto his face upon seeing the crowd flock to his feet. So below him. “Hope y’all had enough time to rest,” his voice buzzed, amplified into your ears, as his lips kissed the mic, “‘cause we’re about to put you through the fucking wringer!”

You watched Winnie roll her eyes in your peripheral, too accustomed with the aggression of cockiness that seemed to have every woman hollering at his command. Eyes scowling, lip twitching, and a hand searing its print onto your wrist, it became quite obvious that even the presence of Eddie Munson brought her anger. 

Wrath, even. 

There was no talking Winnie Ambrose out of this. She had a plan. And it was cemented. 

Winnie Ambrose was taking Eddie Munson down. 

And you were complicit. 

His voice, so deep with husk it had beautiful women practically throwing themselves for his attention, caused a ripple of goosebumps to invade your skin. Something about Eddie Munson had caused a leach of perturbation to suck the life out of you. So dark, his eyes silently sang to the ladies below him, as nothing became more alluring than the sinister blackness that specialized each girl with eye contact so intimidating. If only they knew it meant absolutely nothing. 

Every gaze. Every smirk. Every touch. Every lyric dedicated to the busty blonde with curly hair, or the sun-kissed beauty with a look so delicate. 

It all meant absolutely nothing.

And Eddie Munson loved it. 

Reveling in the control he had, nothing but a smile and wink to get whatever he wanted out of a desperate girl who urged him to make her feel good. And he did. Never a moment passes, where Eddie didn’t have a lady crying in rapture of his orgasmic touch. No matter the mind, no matter the body, Eddie Munson had a truly remarkable talent to blank the conscious of any thought, washing a woman’s worries away with his fingers, tongue, and cock, as his filthy voice kissed their ears with the sweet nothings that had them believing they were one of a kind. 

But it was nothing but a ruse. 

And they’d come to find that, as the once pleads to make them feel good, left them with tears staining the makeup he ruined. No one ever talks about the detriment of having your body used. Furthermore, no one talks about the utter humiliation of running back to the man that did so. 

Nothing but a lousy phone call or run in at the club was enough to have you reeled back into his loving arms that were only loving for forty minutes, before they rejected you like you were nothing. And he affirmed it with a smile so sickening, as he watched the torment twist their face in disgust at his actions. 

But not that it mattered, they’d be crawling right back at the snap of his fingers. 

With a sudden yank, your heels were clicking to catch up with Winnie’s steps. “Hey, wait, what are you- what are you doing?!” Your voice barely became audible under the thunder of Corroded Coffin’s thrashing. 

“C’mon, just follow my lead!” Was all she gave you to work with, before her aggressive hands were shoving strangers out of the way, until you made it into the front sea of men and women who handbanged their body to the clash of the music. 

It didn’t take long for Eddie to make his usual way around the stage edge, where those desperately interested flaunted what they had to offer; breasts pooling from the hazard that was an overtly low-cut top—much to Eddie’s liking—or tongues hungrily circling their lips to potentially entice the metalhead for quickie. 

And then there was you: stood gracelessly behind the stature of your friend, as you gawked at the foreignness of a Saturday night out. 

It became inevitable when Eddie’s gaze fell upon Winnie, who you actually had to give props to, as she stood her ground with an ardent cross of her arms over her chest. A mocking wink was thrown against her scowl, but Winnie quickly graced him with a tight-lipped smile, as you watched with confusion. Her fingers waved in his direction, as his egotistical smirk grew wider.

Winnie Ambrose was a genius. 

Flaunting a smile that had Eddie believing he was right back on her good side for another fuck. Eddie’s gonna want what he can’t have… having Winnie left you. 

His eyes fell upon your figure, as his lips continued to serenade into the mic. “Walk away.” Winnie gritted next to you.

“What?” Your brows furrowed, unbeknownst to you, a look Eddie hadn’t expected.

“Just walk away. Now.” 

Not wanting to be on the receiving end of Winnie’s wrath, your legs stumbled back until you found your footing, and left the crowd, as you strutted back to the bathrooms. Because what you failed to notice was Eddie Munson had glued his eyes to your disinterest, stuck to your descending silhouette, as his voice lowly sung to the women who screamed for him. 

But all he saw was you. 

The buzzing light fixture of a limeade yellow made it nearly impossible for the women of the bar’s bathroom to adequately reapply their makeup. You stood back, watching the delicate precision of lipstick to lips, tissue to eyeliner, and fingertips to skin. 

So effortlessly pretty, you took your turn at the crowded mirrors, and followed the movements of every other girl to fix up your look. You quite liked the black liner that ran the perimeter of your eyes that Winnie had applied. She paired it so nicely with a shimmer that didn’t intimidate you, and, in fact, blossomed your eyes to a vivid awakeness. 

But the perspired air had blinked your makeup to a light smear.

“Need some tissue?”

“What?”

Her cheeks plumped with a smile on her face. “Tissue? Don’t use the ones here.” Her head pointed to the brown tear of paper that lingered in the dispenser. “It’s rough, and it’ll probably cause you to contract herpes.” She joked, as her hand reached to extend you a sheet of soft tissue that came from its designated travel case from her purse. 

“Thank you.” You gently smiled, as your finger cleared your eye of the blackened stain that darkened your undereyes. 

“Girls night out or you bankin’ on seeing someone?” The rich brown lined her ample lips.

“Oh, uh, I guess both… kinda.” You meekly answered, as the tainted tissue disposed itself in the overflowing bin. 

“Same, girl.” Her finger of a deep burgundy acrylic smoothed out the creaminess of her lip liner. “Desperately need to feel somethin’ tonight. See, after my ex, ugh, it’s been a dry spell. Tried that whole celibacy thing, but, nuh-uh, not for me, lemme tell you, it is not for the weak, y’know?”

Perhaps you were God’s strongest soldier then. 

You dryly blinked a lie. “Y-Yeah, totally know… wh-what, uh, you mean.” You softly chuckled. 

“God, and that front man up there with his little guitar.” 

Your brows jumped into the creases of your forehead, as you blankly stared at her. “E-Eddie?”

“Yeah, you know him?” Her lips smacked the thick gloss with a pop. 

“Uh, no, n-no, not really. Just, um, you know, heard of him, I guess.” You shrugged, as you eyed yourself in the murky mirror, fingers prodding at your face, as an excuse not to look at her. 

“Oh, yeah.” She giggled, face coming up close to her reflection. “Everyone and their mother has ‘round here. But honestly, with a guy like that you just need’a put a leash on him, y’know? Eddie needs someone who’s not gonna put up with his bullshit, and when he sees that’s me, all these other girls will see they were never the one. And I plan on making him mine.”

You were royally fucked.

The tension—whether made up in your head or actually there—had fortunately been broken by Winnie bustling into the bathroom. “Ah! Did you see how well that worked?! Well, actually, you didn't, you were walking away, but it totally did!”

“Ha ha, okay, um, why don’t we head out, yeah?” You directed her to the bathroom door, not before flashing the beautiful girl a small smile, as she winked you goodbye. You were met with the generic music that was once blaring upon your first entrance, as you took notice of the now empty stage that left people to mingle around the bar. “Okay, what? What are you-”

“Eddie! He totally checked you out when you left! I told you this would work!” She geeked with the surprising ability to joyfully jump in five inch stilettos. “God, I wish you could have seen his face, Y/N, he was totally like ‘huh?’” You laughed at her over exaggerated facial expression. “He so wants you now.”

Winnie began guiding you back to the table of her friends. “See, um, Winnie, I think we may have run into a little problem. You know that girl in the bathroom, she’s totally gunning for-”

“Aye, your back!” Karey’s voice rang into a cheerful greeting… until her eyes landed upon you. “Oh, you, too.”

Oh. Leave it to you to be deduced to an oh. 

Winnie dragged an obnoxiously loud chair—that didn’t help your attempt to potentially win her friends over—to the unwelcoming table, and patted you down. “Duh, of course, she’s here, she’s with me.” Winnie smiled a smile that did little to appease that burdening feeling that resided within you, though, you knew she was trying. 

As the table fell into a conversation of inside jokes and personal stories that you had no clue about, and you found your eyes whisking away to the rowdiness around you. Had you actually caught the eyes of Eddie Munson, or had Winnie just been flattering you? Bless her, you know she feels a lot, but three years of friendship that felt like a lifetime taught you that her uniquely Winnie Ambrose mind had a knack for twisting events in favor of her.

Narcissism? No, not really. Perhaps crazed in the nicest way possible? Would you be a bad friend to say yes?

Her one sided relationship with Eddie Munson truly stamped itself as exhibit A. Then, of course, there was the whole sugar daddy incident, where Winnie swore up and down that the older gentleman on the train was about to make her rich. Turns out, his compliment about her shoes was solely based on the fact that his wife would love the same pair. 

So maybe, just maybe, Winnie became an A.P Literature teacher’s favorite example of an unreliable narrator, as what she saw as a gaze of piqued interest from the metalhead was  most likely a swift gaze that meant absolutely nothing. 

Sudden voices erupted through the bar’s casual buzz, and you turned your head to the commotion, where the familiar members of Corroded Coffin marked their way through the crowding praises. Inexorably, a flock of women came hurtling as the sweaty lead singer and guitarist made his way out to sift through the potential suitors of a good time. 

His hungry hands found a way to delicately graze the skin of every woman, giving them a lightning rush of whatever fun he could proffer for the night. 

Shifting in your seat at the sudden wave of heat that burned you, you swallowed deeply watching the long strut of the mystery girl in the bathroom make a beeline to Eddie. It became easy to rationalize that pit in your stomach as the inevitable downfall of your best friend’s plan. Nothing more. 

And yet, your eyes couldn’t steer away from them. 

She was unbelievably gorgeous with an aura that captivated his attention in a split second. Over your shoulder, you watched her long lashes bat at his emerging smile, her gold rings complimenting the clash of his heavy silver ones, as his hand slipped into hers, raising it to a height that left her twirling before him, as he gawked at her body that fitted perfectly to her outfit.

And it was when his nose skimmed the skin of her cheek, lips whispering into her bejeweled ear, when his eyes unexpectedly caught yours across the bar. 

An action so abrupt, you swiftly turned away to the ongoing conversation that had no interest in including you, but even that was better than staring Eddie Munson directly in the eye, as he worked up another woman. 

Your pattering heart of anxiety became too heavy for your chest, forcing you to suffer in silence, heaving steadily until those rampaging butterflies finally calmed themselves in your stirring belly. 

“Hey, you alright?” Winnie’s voice came close to your personal space. 

You straightened your back, forcing a smile to appear. “Yeah, yeah, just, uh… I don’t know, getting used to things, I guess.” Her nods urged you to proceed. “But also, what I was trying to say earlier, that girl-”

“Hey.” You turned your head to the direction of the piercing blue eyes that scrutinized you with deep thought. Janet clung to his arm, as his body leaned over the table, as if to have you hear loud and clear. Walker Brauchman. “I know you from somewhere?” 

“Um-”

“Your face, you got the face of someone I know, or at least, knew of.” His finger, so accusatory, pointed you out, adding seven more pairs of eyes to peruse you. “I thought it when I first saw you, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”

“Oh,” you stared around with a nervous laughter that rippled through your throat, “I don’t, uh, I don’t think so.” His face had been nothing but new when first approached, and surely those crystal eyes and broad brow bone would stick out in the memory of the past had you actually run into him before.

But he refused that answer, sticking with a fervent shake of his head. “Nah, nah, I’ve seen you before.”

Janet’s tense chuckles bursted out, as you watched her hands tighten around his bicep. “What’s going on here?” Her wide eyes ran down you. “Have you been with my boyfriend before?” Despite the flashy smile never leaving her face, nothing but hatred passed through her words.

“N-No, I don’t-”

“God, Walker, just drop it. How many beers have you had?” Winnie’s eyes rolled. “She’s not wandering around nightclubs where you techie, trust fund boys hang around. And Sebastian, when was the last time you got laid?”

You watched Janet’s eyes bug, and it became more evident that the glue holding these people was a deep loathing for one another. “Didn’t even say anything.” Sebastian’s voice quietly muttered, as he drowned his mouth in bourbon. 

You sighed, sinking back in your chair. The entire night out was becoming a bust, and you were forced to revel in it. “Winnie.” You quietly spoke. “Maybe I should just head home, you stay and have fun.” You offered a weak smile in return to her concern. 

“What? No.” She urged. “Look, just ignore them, okay? They’re a bunch of stuck up assholes, who I literally just use to get into that upscale bar on Saint Exn, you know, where they have those really uncomfortable performances that are supposed to be artsy, but really it’s just a bunch of weirdos bumping into walls.” 

With a smile on your face, your soft giggles got lost in the murmur of the bar. At the very least, you had Winnie by your side. You leaned close to her vicinity. “Listen, Win, I know I said I would help you with this plan to, um, get back at Eddie, but I don’t think this is really gonna work out- or at least, I’m probably not the right person to do it.”

“What? How come?” Her arched brows pinched into her forehead. “No, you’re totally perfect, Y/N, I mean it, he was completely eyeing you.”

“Winnie, it’s just-” You adjusted in your seat to face her. “I feel like you may need someone with, um, more edge, I guess. I can’t- c’mon, Win, you know I can’t talk to a person like Eddie, it wouldn’t- it just wouldn’t work.” You rationalized. “You know, l-like her?”

Winnie followed the slight gesture that directed her behind you, where Eddie’s hand nursed a beer, as his right was occupied with groping at the fat of the woman’s ass. Winnie’s face scrunched into a scowl of disgust. “That perv does that to everyone. Trust, he’ll leave her as fast as it takes to finish in her.”

While appreciated, her words did little to provide you any comfort. 

You peered back, and that inevitable pull left Eddie’s eyes gazing into yours, as his lips clung to the rim of his glass cup. Your eyes nervously met back to Winnie’s, and suddenly she had a smile on her face, as your periphery showed you the distant movements of Eddie guiding his group of band members and their pick of night to the large table behind you. 

“God, he is so trying to make me jealous.” Winnie’s hushed voice complained to you. Eddie was beginning to approach with his new girl in tow. Nothing but a loud clatter from his friends who were securing spots around the table. “Okay, next part of the plan, we gotta move.” Winnie aggressively tapped your arm. 

“Move? Move where?” You softly panicked. 

“No, not move, like move onto the next- okay, just forget, just get up.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now!” Her demands spat on you through her harsh whispers. “Quick, quick! Just go get a drink.”

“I don’t want a drink, though.” Your brows furrowed. 

Winnie deadpanned. “Oh, for the love of god, Y/N, just go to the bar. Just walk, no matter what, just walk, okay?”

Standing on your wobbly feet, you turned to face the busy bar. It only took one step for Winnie’s hand to suddenly shove your body forward in a belligerent manner that had your shoulder colliding with Eddie’s. But Winnie’s words were battering at your head. Just walk. And you never met the stunned state of Eddie Munson, as the entirety of his attention was stolen by you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Your legs worked faster than your mind, hastily navigating you through the packed sardine of bodies, before you managed to squeeze yourself into a spot at the bar. Your finger tapped to the beat of your heart, clicking your nail to the slick wooden countertop that became more fervent by the second. 

Through the swarming patrons, the bartender’s eyes locked with yours, which prompted your request. “Just a water, please.” With nothing but a nod handed back, your shoulders slumped to the whatever degree of fresh air the bar provided that wasn’t as suffocating as Eddie's presence.

You wondered if Eddie had said something to Winnie. They were nothing but a few feet apart, and seeing as what you had just done, you thought of the potential outcomes that could proffer themselves. The most blaring one being that Eddie probably told Winnie off about her creep of a friend who needs to back off. Oh, god, why did you ever agree to this? Embarrassment was coursing its burning way to your cheeks, which only worsened with the densely hot atmosphere that was beginning to be overwhelming. One look back would save you from the overbearing thoughts that were consuming your head, that Eddie Munson was, in fact, not at all engaging with Winnie Ambrose, but your eyes stayed glue to the whisking hands of the bartender, as concoctions were made before your water could ever be served. 

Ice clanged, and you became captivated by the rapid shake of the mixer, until-

“Shoulder check back there was a bit rude, no?” Your eyes rose to the voice, only for a lump to lodge itself in the sudden tightness of your throat, hurriedly forcing your head away from him. 

With a nearly empty cup, a simple gesture to the bartender for a refill sufficed as a wordless transaction for Eddie and the worker. “Sorry. Just crowded.” You managed to muster out, refusing his eyeline, despite his searing into your profile. 

The answer should have served, but Eddie’s presence lingered for that awaiting refill, much like your water being tossed to the backburner for the numerous cocktails that were coming in for the sole bartender. Silence ensued, nothing but the minimal sounds of his body leaning forward were somehow becoming the lone focus of your attention. “You must think I’m some real jerk off, huh?”

You hadn’t registered how close his face had come, when your head turned and a pair of noses nearly bumped, with a smile eating at his face with just how fast you jumped back. “What?”

“Red-ish hair, bit of a loud mouth back there, that’s your roommate, no?” He eyed your silence. “I know I saw you yesterday. At her place. I saw you-”

“Her name’s Winnie.”

“Winnie.” Eddie’s tongue clicked. “Yeah, yeah.” His head nodded, as if recollecting the memories of whatever strained history he had of her. 

A tense quietness was arising. If intently studying the abrasive nature of the bartender’s mixing was what it took to avoid his dark eyes, then you’d keep your focus trained, until a free moment was given to finally provide you with a water bottle. 

But Eddie Munson, of course, had other plans. 

“So, how’s Margaret?”

Such a casual grin swept his face, as he awaited the answer, but he was met with nothing more than a perplexed face of judgment, that had a cute way of flexing your brows together, he noted. “You remember Margaret but not Winnie?” Eddie Munson truly was just a load of bullshit.

“Well, if it came from your mouth, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember.”

Nothing but pathological lies spewing from that sinister grin. With luck on your side, the bartender found a moment of time to thrash a cold bottle of water upon you, giving you an escape, as you left him with nothing but a “right” to end the conversation. 

His eyes stuck to the movement of your hips, his itching fingers have to splay themselves on the stubble of his chin, as his gaze diverted to the expanse of your body. 

Had he seen your face, though, he would have relished in the panic that showcased itself, as you quickly stumbled your way back to Winnie, who was gladly slurping down her martini at the entertainment she witnessed from afar. 

“Oh, my god, oh, my god, what did- ugh, what did he say?!” Winnie choked on her olive. 

“Y’know, Winnie, I think it actually may be best if we just call it a night.” You quickly gathered your jacket over your shoulders, as Winnie stood from her seat. 

Not one to tell twice, the contents of her martini glass were swigged down in a second, as she gathered her scattered belongings of a purse that was riffled through to retrieve her needed lipstick prior to your arrival. “Okay, but what did he- bye guys!” She waved off her friends. “What did he say?!”

Your hand clutched to hers, as you persevered through the endeavor of snaking your way through the crowd for a beeline to the exit. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?! Oh, c’mon, it’s Eddie, he had to have said something!” She prodded. 

“Winnie, genuinely, he gave me some bullshit one liner, and that was it-”

“Leavin’ already? Could’a sworn y’all just got here?” With a gentlemanly hand holding the door open, both you and Winnie froze in place, as Eddie had abandoned that refilled beer all just to smile down at you. But you took the initiative to yank Winnie back to reality, tugging on her arm to let the cool breeze consume you in the loitered parking lot. But the god forsaken sound of the heavy crunch of boots against the asphalt had followed your movements. “Oh, c’mon now, things are just gettin’ a little interesting.” Eddie managed to speed up his steps, coming straight for your direction, where he fell in step ahead of you. “Kinda left me hangin’ back there.”

His eyes dropped to your bouncing body with each ardent step, and you left the warmth of Winnie’s hand to cross your jacket over. “There was nothing left hanging.” 

“Now, wait, hold on.” His ringed hand buzzed your body, as it came to halt your movements with a gentle squeeze to your waist. “Kinda feel like you’re not getting the best first impression out of me here.”

Winnie chuckled. “You’re doing that to yourself.” 

Eddie smiled. “Long time, no see, Wendy, still using too much teeth with your blowjobs?” 

Her rum raisin lips pried open with a gasp of disbelief, as without a thought, her purse came flying to his arm. “It’s Winnie, you asshole!” Smack! “And unlike you, a piece of vibrating plastic can actually make me cum!” Winnie stormed off, violating her purse with her violent hands that aggressively searched for her car keys. 

A sardonic laugh rippled out of his chest, as he happily smiled down at. “What a fucking liar, babe, don’t trust a word out of her. She always comes crawling back.” His sly grin whispered, as you felt his thumb caress you. You scoffed in revulsion, shoving his hand off of you to make your way around him. “Wait, wait, scratch that, alright? Forget I said that about your little friend, and we can start on a clean slate.” His legs followed you.

“Not interested.”

“Don’t tell me this is because of Red, sweetheart.” Your silence only egged him on. “Okay, look, whatever happened between me and your friend is in the past, alright? Just one little date will prove that I’m not usually like this, just got caught up in the wrong crowd, c’mon you gotta feel a little sympathy for me.”

“I don’t feel a thing actually.” 

“Trust me, baby, after one date, I can make you feel a whole lot’a things.” His teeth flashed in a wicked smile that had your stomach anxiously turning. “What’s your pretty name, sweetheart?”

“I don’t think you really need to know that.”

“Kinda important to know the name of the girl I’m takin’ out.” You wouldn’t even be able to count on hand how many times Eddie’s forgotten his date’s name. 

But you gulped the stress down, as you approached Winnie’s car. “Hasn’t a girl ever told you no?”

“Don’t you have a mind of your own?” Do you? Your body paused at his words, fingers lingering on the car door handle. “Don’t let your little friend influence this, use that head of yours for yourself. And for the record, sweetheart, no, a girl’s never told me no.” Eddie mockingly smirked in your face. 

You swallowed thickly, as you faced the unbearable confrontation of Eddie Munson. Something you never even knew you had the confidence to do. “Well, I am, so accept it.”

“Look, darling, under any other circumstance, absolutely, but I got this funny, little feeling in my heart that you’re too special to let go.” His casanova smile ate at his face. “Just one little date s’all I’m askin’ for. Whatever you want, I’ll cater to your needs.”

Your eyes slung at Winnie’s through the car window, only to fall back on Eddie. Overwhelmed with feelings you’ve never felt before, you wanted to violently vomit, but stuck to the endeavor of standing your ground.

“Shove it.”

You cut Eddie off with the slam of Winnie’s door, where he stood watching you, as she keyed the ignition. In the distance, the entrance rang with the exit of Eddie’s friends. “Yo, Ed!” 

But his eyes never left yours. “What?!”

“C’mon, we’re heading to the diner down east!” His friend called for, as Winnie reversed from the parking spot. 

In the lively night, Eddie Munson watched you pull away, your chest heaving with just as much anxiety as the beating of his heart with the adrenaline you coursed through his veins. And maybe Eddie was lying at the mention of you being special, it wouldn’t be the first those words were spoken to get into the pants of a naive girl, who Eddie couldn’t have a single care for. Or maybe, just maybe, the craziness of Winnie Ambrose had managed to infiltrate your mind, forcing a sliver of you to believe his words to be true, as you festered on the subtle call out Eddie had managed to strike a nerve with. Something no one else has. Unless you were that easy to read to a practical stranger, how did Eddie know enough to be able to pick you apart with one sentence? 

But you were urging yourself to understand this wasn’t his first rodeo. 

Eddie watched Clara Dunn hide her tummy with her knit sweater, inevitably leading to his praises about her body that had her opening up her legs to him. Evil. Eddie watched Fernanda Pajaro conceal the hormonal bumps of her skin with creamy concealer, giving him the in to compliment her flawless complexion that got her mouth on his cock. Vile. Eddie watched Winnie Ambrose search for the validation of others, leaving him to whisper those sweet nothings in her ear that had her entangled in his sheets. Nefarious.

To Eddie Munson, you were absolutely noth-

“Ah! What the hell?!” Winnie’s foot slammed on the brakes, forcing your head to jolt at the sudden stop. 

Behold, Eddie Munson’s hands perched against the hood of Winnie’s car, as the headlights of her Honda casted a sinister smile on his delighted face. “One date.” His muffled voice echoed. 

Winnie rolled down the window of her car. “What the fuck are you doing?! You’re gonna get yourself killed!” 

His shoulders shrugged, as his stare never left yours. “I won’t as long as you agree.”

Consternation was eating away at you, as the honking of cars was beginning to erupt, overstimulating you into a fright, that only worsened with the active traffic that was speeding on the other half of the four-lane highway. 

“Are you crazy?! Get out of the road!” Your head peaked from the window, urging Eddie to leave. 

You envied, yet despised the collection of calmness that he was able to generate, as his face never faltered from the clash of vehicles that sped by. “Just one date s’all I’m askin’.” 

“Y/N, just do it!” Winnie begged you.

“No! I’m not about to be forced into this just because he’s insane!” 

“Y/N is it? That’s real pretty.” Eddie smiled. “Y/N, will you go out with me?”

“No!” A car flew by. “God, please just get out of the road!” You desperately pleaded. 

Eddie’s face playful faltered. “Why not? Why won’t you go out with me?”

“Because I don’t want you!”

A honk, louder than the usual, blared to warn its impending arrival, as Eddie’s palms were quickly beginning to moisten at the semi truck coursing down the road. “It’s just a date, just do it!” Winnie implored. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll go out with you!” You hastily gave in, but the stubborn ego of Eddie Munson was rampantly becoming your sworn enemy. 

“Nah, c’mon, don’t do me any favors-”

“No, no, I want to!” You beseeched, as the worry lines of your forehead deepened at the sight of the truck. 

“Say it.” His smug smile infuriated you beyond compare.

“I wanna go out with you!” You angrily exhorted on the shortness of breath that weasled its way from your constricting throat.

“Say it again.”

You practically screamed your head off to satisfy the liking of Eddie Munson. “I want to go out with you!” 

And he smiled, so proudly at his actions, but even more so at your words. “Alright, alright, we’ll go out, no need to beg.” 

Running off road, you settled back into the seat with heavy breaths, as you finally watched Eddie safely return to the bar’s parking lot. Your sweaty hand burned itself on the hotness of your tense forehead that was beginning to welcome an ache from the strain of your voice and worries. 

If only you knew the worsened matters of your situation, as Santina Rodrigo, with her burgundy acrylics and brown lips of gloss, watched in a fury at the events that transpire between her man and you.

Not to promote the imperial idealization of the American government, but you were beginning to loathe the contents of Africa and Asia that made them so large you were left unable to complete your puzzle by 12:00 A.M Saturday. 

As spoken, this was the universe's punishment.

[seungminnie-minho]

[ A small cold ] Kim Seungmin

Pair- Seungmin x Gn! Y/N

Genre - soft and fluffy, Y/n takes care of seungmong, seungmo being effortlessly adorable, you're very whipped for him

Tw- swear words, not proof read-

A/N - enjoy as I go sob over my babie being sick, and then kicking covids bitch ass. Warning I did this in a rush and didn't take it that seriously ( made when he was still sick )

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

Seungmin didn't feel well today, so you took the day off to take care of him. ' It's only a small cold Y/n, you don't need to take the day off for it ' " But I do dummy, you've always taken care of me, it's about time I give back for that " you smiled as you placed a kiss on his forehead " just focus on getting better " he nodded turning his face to hide the blush on his face.

You went out to buy groceries for lunch, deciding to make him some home cooked meal instead of a take out. You came back to see him sitting by the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal. You didn't know whether to laugh because of how adorable he looks or scold him for not staying in bed, you set the bags on the counter before turning towards him.

" You're so fucking adorable with your messy hair and puffy cheeks but I need you resting and eating a proper meal, so no cereal baby " you took the bowl from him and set it aside ' I already took a nap Y/n, and you left without telling me, therefore you left me no choice but to eat the cereal ' he said with that sassy grin on his face

" don't get sassy with me, you can watch me cook if you're so bored " you say as you start preparing the ingredients for the soup. He enjoyed little moments like this, small simple moments together to escape the busy life he has as an idol. " What are you spacing off about? " ' it's nothing, don't worry about it ' you raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't bother prying for an answer " alright baby "

[ time skip ]

4 hours passed by and you were both laying on the couch watching Run on, but the drama was long forgotten as your attention was on your boyfriend who's fast asleep on your lap. You smiled as you softly combed his hair with your hands " get up you'll get a bad back, sleep on the bed babe " he mumbled and turned around with his back against the tv ' I'm too tired to move, carry me '

" are you kidding me? you're heavy babe " you teased, if glares could kill you'd be dead right now " okay okay I was kidding baby ju " you stood up scooping him into your arms. You lifted him up " oh damn I actually did it, those lonely nights at the gym were worth it " you fake sobbed, he laughed ' When did you became a gym maniac? ' " since I saw Han's partner carry him, I'm no longer envious but..." you paused still standing still ' but what? '

" I can't move anymore- ' you laughed, " I can't feel my legs babe- " ' you're joking right? ' he said holding back a laugh, stupid moments together, the joy of just enjoying each other's company. The laughter quieted down, he feels you move ' you were just messing with me, weren't you? ' " nope I'm dragging my feet towards our room, aren't you glad to have such a smart partner? " he shook his head ' mhm....sure very smart, you? ' you rolled your eyes, completely used to this.

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

decided to cut it off there cus I'm tired af, this took way longer than needed ah I need to do rl stuff too so adios

leave a like, and pls reblog cus that shit means a lot to me ♥ o ♥

tell me what you think too, I ain't scary I swear on my cats ♥

[collectivesigh]

whiskey | kaz brekker x reader

summary: you’re a bartender at the Crow Club. when a customer gets a bit too cozy with you, your boss steps in. 

warnings: SEXUAL HARASSMENT (pls heed this, a man says creepy shit to you, if that’s triggering do not read), drinking, cursing

word count: 1.7k

±

Your eyes scanned over the room as you polished a freshly washed rocks glass. At just past midnight, the Crow Club was busy as ever, gamblers and barhoppers filling the space to near capacity. You hustled behind the bar, pouring beer, mixing cocktails, and serving out liquor. People shouted out their orders to you constantly, keeping you busy and keeping the tips rolling in. Just like everyone else who works for the Dregs, you love your kruge. 

Every time you and your coworkers experienced a lull in business, your eyes couldn’t help  but seek out a familiar face on the floor of the club. Of course, it was just in your luck that that face would belong to your boss, Kaz Brekker, known for his ruthlessness and lack of emotion. Your attraction to him frustrated you to no end. I mean seriously, could you have chosen a more unavailable person? Still, you couldn’t shake your crush no matter how hard you tried, so instead you decided to just savor the few and far between interactions you had with him and wait for it to die out. 

“Staring at the boss again, huh?” your coworker Nessa teased. You rolled your eyes as you got back to cleaning the bar counter. Nessa noticed your little habit of finding Kaz in the room a few weeks ago and has teased you relentlessly since. She thought it was extraordinarily entertaining. 

“Shut up, Nessa,” you mumbled. The girl giggled and left your side to go help a customer. You breathed out a sigh, only a couple more hours left of your shift and then you could go home and forget about Kaz. 

“Hey, love, care to grab me a whiskey on the rocks?” You looked up and saw Jesper slide onto a barstool, all big smiles and bright eyes. You gave him a genuine smile and poured his drink. 

“You winning tonight?” you asked as you set the glass down in front of him. Jesper was your first real friend at the Crow Club. He had introduced himself to you on your first shift and the two of you became inseparable. 

“Yeah, I’m up 200 kruge!” he whisper-shouted to you excitedly. You shook your head in amusement at the man, finding his gambling habits both amusing and a bit concerning. You always tried to keep him at the bar to keep him from going back to the tables. 

“That’s good, Jes! Stay at the bar for a while, I'm bored.”

“Sorry, love, but I wanna get back into it, I’m feeling good tonight!” he told you before he downed his drink in one swig and slapped a couple kruge on the bar. He shot you a wink and slinked back into the crowd, no doubt about to lose the 200 kruge he won. You just chuckled a bit to yourself, pocketing the extra cash he left as a tip and tidying up. Kaz’s Crows made it easy to enjoy your job, even if it meant dealing with drunk tourists every night. You glanced up and saw a group of men waving at you from the seating area near the bar, so you grabbed a pad of paper to take their order and slid from behind the bar to their table. 

“Evening, gentlemen, what can I do for ya?” you asked. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can do a lot of things for me, sweetheart,” one of the men sneered with a nasty look in his eye. His words sent a sick twist through your stomach. This wasn’t the first time you’d been hit on while working, but it never got more pleasant to deal with. 

“What drinks can I get for you?” you amended, hoping to just move on. The men ordered a round of beer and you breathed a sigh of relief and you ducked behind the bar to prepare their drinks. Drinks all lined up on the tray, you called out to Nessa. “Hey, would you mind taking this to table 4? Those men were being creepy to me and I don’t wanna deal with that tonight.”

“Of course, no explanation necessary,” Nessa responded, sharing a sympathetic look with you. You went to get back to work taking care of the various customers at the bar, but only a few moments later Nessa tapped on your shoulder still carrying the tray of drinks.

“One of them refused to let me set down their drinks. Said that it has to be you who serves them.” Nessa wore a deep frown and was visibly pissed, despite the neutral expression she attempted to put on. You sighed and took the tray from her, muttering a thank you before walking toward the table again. You said nothing as you set down the men’s drinks, not wanting to initiate any conversation.

“What, not gonna say anything? Y’know it’s rude to ignore paying customers,” the man called out with a mocking tone as you turned to walk away. You turned back to him with your best customer service smile plastered on your face.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I really do have a lot of work to do. Let me know if I can do anything else for you.” The man stood to his full height and stepped toward you. You tried to step back, but he kept moving forward until your back hit the wall.

“I know what you can do for me. You can show me how you use that pretty little mouth of yours,” he said, his breath thick and heavy with the smell of alcohol. Bile rose in your throat as  you found yourself trapped between the wall and this man. Panic began to seep into your veins as you looked for a way to get out of this. You weren’t good with knives like Inej, you weren’t a Heartrender like Nina, and you weren’t strong like Matthias. You were just a bartender with an hour left in your shift and an embarrassing crush on your boss. You started shaking, certain that you were helpless in front of this man. 

Before you could even consider calling out for help, a flash of metal arched through the air and connected with your harasser's head. Hard. The man let out a strange choking sound before collapsing to the ground. You stared in shock at the man on the ground before looking up to see Kaz Brekker standing in front of you, leaning on his blood splattered cane. Though Kaz’s face seemed neutral, you could see the clouds of rage in his brown eyes and the angry set of his jaw. He looked you up and down once, seemingly checking you for injuries before looking at a few of the Dregs by the door and motioning to the unconscious man. 

“Sit him up. Nessa bring me some whiskey, bottom shelf.” Nessa hurried around the bar with the Crow Club’s cheapest whiskey as the two Dregs sat the man up against a wooden pillar. Kaz popped the cork on the bottle and poured some over the man’s face. The man sputtered awake, coughing intensely. It was at this moment you noticed the dead silence of the club, how every patron’s eyes were on Kaz. 

“So, you think you can waltz in here, reeking of piss, and harrass my employees?” Kaz asked the man. His gaze was venomous, eyes dark and sharp like a shark’s. The way his rasping voice took on a dangerous edge sent shivers down your spine. 

“No, no! It’s not like that! The girl, she was practically throwing herself at me!” the man sputtered out. A cruel smile spread over Kaz’s face. In an instant, he pulled a knife out and stabbed it into the man’s leg. He howled out in pain, blood already seeping into his trousers. 

“No one talks to her like that. So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Kaz spoke lowly. “You and your friends are going to leave here and you are never going to return, unless you want to lose a hand.” The man nodded rapidly, tears streaming down his face. Kaz motioned to the man and the Dregs dragged him out of the club, his friends not far behind. Slowly, the noise began to start up again, people chattering and glasses clinking. 

“Come to my office,” Kaz said to you. You nodded numbly and followed him as he cut across the room. He led you into his office and motioned to a chair near his desk before seating himself at the one behind it. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses, pouring each of you a portion. You downed yours immediately, still shaking from the encounter. 

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Kaz asked suddenly. You shook your head no. 

“No, I’m just-- just a little shaken up is all.”

“Good. Your shift is almost over anyway so you take the rest of the night off. Stay in here as long as you need to, I have paperwork to do anyway. I’ll have Jesper walk you home when you’re ready.” You stared at him dumbly, confused by his words. It was unlike Kaz to be so...kind. 

“Thank you, Mr. Brekker. That’s very kind.”

“I protect my investments,” he shrugged without looking up. That made you bark out a laugh, surprising the both of you. The laughter streamed out of you, a good deal of the tension leaving  your body. 

“Sorry, I just-- I’ve never imagined I’d be called an investment before,” you said between giggles. The look on Kaz’s face turned softer. The change in expression was so slight that you almost convinced yourself you imagined it.

“Oh, and here’s this,” he said as he tossed you a leather wallet. You looked up at him curiously. “Figured the least the son of the bitch could do for harassing you was tip you.” You laughed again, peeking into the wallet and seeing a fat  stack of kruge. Kaz must’ve swiped it when he was...chatting with the lovely customer. He nodded to the door. 

“Go home, get some rest. I hope to see you tomorrow.” You bit your lip, unsure about going home so soon. Kaz called out your name softly. 

“No one is going to bother you anymore, not if I have anything to say about it.” Your lips gaped slightly in surprise at his sincerity. Quickly recovering, you sent him a soft smile before bidding him goodnight and going to find Jesper. That night, safe in your warm bed, you dreamed of eyes the color of bitter coffee.

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

chapter twenty two: i love you

previous  <  masterpost  >  next

note. i am sorry for the veeeery long wait; i finally finished it tonight (after fucking up with it for two whole months) but yeah, my emotions are quite unstable right now so this was affected by it (in short, this is a roller coaster ride so pls be ready)

playlist. stay (acoustic ver.); never let me go (both sung by ghostly kisses)

You absolutely had no idea what you were doing right now. As far as you could remember, you were the playwright, the writer of the script. You never had any interest in acting in plays, musicals, nor acting in general… none at all – so why is it that right now, you were standing right on the side of the stage, waiting for the cue for you to come out, dressed up as someone you weren’t supposed to be, someone you were only supposed to have written for?

You swear, this was the most chaotic crowd you have ever seen your whole life. You only watched, alongside Hajime, as people lined up right by the entrance of the university’s theater, murmuring and gossiping about the play that was less than an hour away from starting, “I gotta say, they look way too excited for a story that they should know like the back of their hands by now. It’s kind of funny,” Hajime chuckled, letting out a quiet ‘yeah’ as he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you cringe on the girls that were obviously here for your best friend. You swore you heard one of them say they’re going to ask him out after the play and you almost wanted to drag her out of the venue by her hair.

“I would say it would be a waste of a ticket for people who are here just to gush about handsome faces instead of the story itself but then again, it’s us who are benefiting from it anyway.” You huffed and muttered a few more things under your breath, beginning to walk to the direction of the entrance for the crew members which was on the farther side of the theater, Hajime silently following and shaking his head out of amusement for your obvious jealousy. I can’t wait for the time when it’s me you’re being jealous for, he thinks.

You thought the crowd outside was chaotic? Nothing could have prepared you for the view you were welcomed to as soon as you entered the backstage. Literally, almost all of the crew members were running around frantically, pushing the small and large props here and there. Hajime, as if he had his ‘danger’ instincts set on, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to his side just right when a random lad passed by where you were at a while ago, struggling to carry what looked like a heavy log on his shoulder (you figured it would be for one of the scenes that were supposed to be in the forest). You were sure as hell that if you weren’t moved out of the way by your friend, the lad would’ve collided with you and that thing he was holding would’ve fell on you because he was too busy looking back and chatting with his companion who was carrying other props.

Irritated by their carelessness, Hajime clicked his tongue and spoke up, “Oi, you two have to be careful and watch where you’re going. You might just cause an accident with what you’re doing.” The boys replied with an insincere apology, immediately going back to their business. You were soon brought to your senses as well and realized that you were still in his arms. Blushing profusely, you muttered a quiet ‘thanks,’ too flustered to think of a more decent reply. Hajime raised an eyebrow, smirking before leaning his head close to yours again, foreheads touching each other, much like the other day.

“You’re red. Are you feeling sick?” If it was someone he wasn’t close with, it would look like he’s just being concerned but you know better because you can practically hear the teasing behind his voice, so, you punched him right by his shoulders, muttering with a hint of shyness in your tone, “Asshole. Stop trying to tease me, it’s way too much for me. When the fuck did you even get so brave to act like this with me? Jerk.”

He cackled, slinging his arm around your shoulder, and beginning to pull you deeper inside the backstage. You both stood idly by the corner of the backstage, watching the actors get ready. From your position, you could see your blonde best friend, eyes looking lost as they wandered around the area until it stopped right to where you were. You think you held a staring contest for about twenty seconds until your companion spoke up, “You know, I personally think it would be better if you go to him and say your good luck, yeah? Nothing’s going to happen if you just stare at each other all day. I’m willing to share you with him… just for today though. After this, no more.” 

A confused expression formed on your face, wondering what he meant, though he just snickered and ruffled your head, “I said… go to him before I change my mind and pull you away from here.”

“I can’t. These days, I’ve been feeling way too many feelings and I don’t know how to control them. I feel like… I might just burst and tell him everything but I don’t want to. I’m not ready yet,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers as you looked down, only for your head to be raised up again as Hajime held it up using your chin, a tender smile plastered on his face.

“Tell you what… if you lose control and everything goes astray, just look at me and I’ll save you, like a knight-in-shining-armor,” he whispers, patting you on the head before pushing you towards your best friend who was still looking, by the way. You took a deep breath, stopping right in front of him, biting your lip before opening your mouth to say something but Atsumu beat you to it, arms immediately going around your form and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m sorry,” He mumbles into your hair, while you nod, reciprocating the gesture, “I… I’ve been such a shitty best friend, huh?”

“Yeah, right,” You huffed, trying to look mad and intimidating but it only came off as cute in Atsumu’s vocabulary, “After this, I’ll treat you to this really good restaurant. We can talk about anything and everything you want to tell me, even if they’re bad, I’ll listen, yeah?” He suggested, his hold on you still not loosening as he looked down on you, “I’d prefer it if only good things come out of your pretty mouth though.” 

You rolled your eyes, getting ready to retort as usual but a loud crash and a cry of pain interrupted you. Looking to the source of the sound, your eyes, as well as Atsumu’s widened. You can only watch as Yui, who was on the floor, clutching her ankles, angrily screech at the boy who was bowing his head and apologizing, the large piece of wood you luckily avoided a while ago found its victim and it’s the main actress of the play, “What the fuck! Why weren’t you watching where you’re going?! Look at what you did!”

Your best friend jogged towards her and once again, you were left behind. Love seriously sucks, you thought as you watch him try to shush Yui’s cries. The director, who heard about the situation, ran to where you are, asking what happened. “I think her ankles are injured, Miyu-chan,” you quickly replied, anxiety beginning to arise within you because what was supposed to happen now? You can’t cancel this play; you all have been working for months for this! Besides, the theater must be full of the audience now. As if she was reading your mind, she spoke up, “We can’t cancel this now, but we can’t force her to act as well. She can barely stand up, look. Mina, tell Mari to ask the audience to wait for a little while more, we have to think of a solution.”

By now, Atsumu was supporting her, making their way towards you with Yui limping, “Miyu-san…” “No, Yui. I know what you’re going to say but I won’t let you do that. Go to the infirmary and have your ankles checked. Your well-being is more important than this play,” the director firmly said, much to the brown-haired girl’s dismay.

“But you can’t cancel it! The people who bought the tickets will get mad! I can do this, it barely hurts, Miyu-san!” Yui pleaded, even going as far lifting her injured foot in a pathetic attempt to show that she was fine but it only put her to a worse situation as soon as she winced. Miyu only gave her a look of ‘I told you so.’ 

“Don’t worry about the play, Yui-chan. YN can replace you in your role.”

“What?!” “WHAT?” You simultaneously yelled out, obviously not expecting the sudden decision to be made, much less one that has something to do with you, “Wait, wait, wait… Miyu-chan, aren’t you being a little rash right now? I’m not a good actress!”

“She’s right!” Yui scoffed, “I’ve been practicing this for so long and you’re going to replace me with someone who never did?!” 

“That’s right,” Miyu nodded, crossing her arms, “She knows the script and the lines better than anyone here. And don’t try to fool me, YN, you know you can act.” Her unrelenting eyes told you that she knew everything there was to know; she’s been your friend for more than a year now, after all. 

“Oh, well. You won’t change my mind no matter what you say, so just go, Yui. Iwaizumi-kun, sorry for this sudden request but can you take Yui to the infirmary after what we’re going to do?” Hajime blinked but nodded, nonetheless. He feels somewhat sorry for the brunette who was on the verge of tears as she was helped by the crew members into one of the changing rooms to undress her costume.

It’s definitely not the first time in your life but you felt like vomiting the breakfast you had this morning.

You already lost count of how many times you took a deep breath in hopes that your heart will calm down. You listened as Mari neared the end of her welcoming rites and speech for the play, placing your hands on your chest as a final attempt to get tranquility within. The fairytale-like background music began to play and soon, a younger version of your character appeared on the stage; it’s the beginning of your Cinderella play. To be honest, you don’t even know where they got that child actress and how they managed to convince her to join the play but right now, you couldn’t care less because all you’re thinking of right now is how to not mess up your lines and deliver them with the proper emotions. 

Your brother, Osamu, Tooru, Makki and Mattsun, who you were sure as hell were in the audience, will never let you hear the end of it if you mess this up. You don’t want to live the rest of your days in Japan being a laughingstock. No way, you refu–

“You’re thinking too much about it. Calm down,” A voice from behind you interrupted, hands beginning to massage your shoulders to get your stiff muscles to relax. Turning around, you were met with the one and only Miya Atsumu in a prince costume. Right there and then, you felt like your heart’s going to burst for a different reason this time. 

Goodness heavens, Lord Jesus, thank you for blessing me with this beautiful man and letting me meet him, you thought as you savored the view in front of you, also thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Miya  for successfully creating Atsumu and delivering him to the Earth, it must have difficult to produce such fine masterpiece.

“Ya look… beautiful,” the blonde mutters, a hand rubbing his nape and sheepishly grinning, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, “Ya should dress up yourself from time to time, yanno? It really suits you.”

“Gee, thanks for calling me ugly on my normal days,” you scoffed, giggling when he let out a sound of disagreement, “No! That’s not what I meant, idiot!”

“I know.” 

Before you can continue your conversation, the signal for you to come out is finally closing in as the “stepsisters” appeared onstage. Rather shakily, you took a step forward, almost tripping on your dress due to your nerves. You were fortunate that Atsumu was attentive enough to grab your wrist, “YN, I told you to calm down.”

You gulped, nodding and taking a deep breath. He smiled upon seeing the determined look on your face and for some reason, his body moved on its own - placing a hand on your cheek with his thumb rubbing it, he approached you and placed his lips on your forehead. Maybe it’s because you were so nervous or maybe it’s because you longed for this moment for almost your whole life. Whatever the reason is, you just find yourself tearing up a little bit as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Never in your life had you wished that time can stop this much before. As you stood still in Atsumu’s embrace, you felt your heart being squeezed with so much love yet pain at the same time. How is it that he’s so close yet he’s someone you can’t have? 

“I love you, Atsumu,” you tell him, eyes still watery; heart hoping that it reaches him, that he picks up the meaning behind your words. But he doesn’t, as he stops to look at you, he squints his eyes in a joking manner as he speaks, “Hey, why do you look so emotional today?”

Disappointment grows in the depths of your whole being, though you don’t show him that. Because perhaps this was enough, you can try again another day. You’ll try and try until he finally understands. You can do that… you’ve been holding on pretty well the past fifteen years, so you huff instead, ignoring the painful thump of your heart, “Nothing, you jerk! Is it really that weird to hear me say I love you to you, hah?!”

You hear the dialogue of one of the stepsisters, calling out as your cue. You start to trudge forward but before you could fully go, he replies, “I love you too, YN, always remember that although I’m so shitty sometimes.”

Yeah, this is enough for now.

Perhaps, you shouldn’t have been so confident in saying that; you should’ve just been straight to the point because nothing has ever compared to the agony engulfing your insides as Miya Atsumu sat in front of you in a random booth of a restaurant, speaking the words you’ve always dreaded to hear as a Moira and as his very own soulmate, “YN, I think I’m done waiting for my soulmate. Can’t you just cut my thread off please?”

[heytherejulietx]

okay you already know what I want, but that prompt 35 pls and if you want a kissing one with it, top of head kiss would work well 🥰 ILY BESTIE

Hurt / Comfort prompt list.

Kisses prompt list.

Reggie Mantle - Helping the other person when they’re sick and have nobody else to help. | Top of the head kiss.

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Y/N let out a low groan into her pillow when her phone started ringing, the noise so loud it hurt her head, which already felt like she had been hit with a shovel. She reached her arm out and patted across her bedside table for a moment so she didn’t have to open her eyes, which felt like they were glued shut; and managed to knock over a bottle of water and a photo frame in the process. By the time she had picked up the phone she was frowning, huffing as she answered it and put it to her ear.

“Hmm?” She managed to briefly hum as she rolled onto her back, her body aching and sore.

“Good morning sweetcheeks,” Her best friend’s voice boomed over the phone and she groaned, immediately turning the volume down. “Woah, ouch, not happy to hear from me?”

“You’re too loud Reggie,” Y/N complained quietly as she lifted her hand to rub her eyes. “Why are you calling, shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Reggie countered, and she winced a little.

Y/N had meant to tell him she wouldn’t be in school the night before but she must’ve passed out before she had the chance. She hadn’t been feeling too well for the whole weekend; her fever kept getting worse and each throb of her headache felt like a direct shot to the brain. To make it worse her parents weren’t home as they were out for two weeks on a trip, so she was on her own. And she definitely didn’t have enough energy to even crawl out of bed, let alone go to school.

“Sorry Reg I meant to say, I can’t come in today.”

“Why not?” She could practically hear him pouting over the phone and couldn’t help the slight smile that passed over her lips.

“‘Cause I don’t feel too well. I’ll sleep it off today and I’ll be back tomorrow, promise.” She said quietly, before she lifted her arm to muffle a coughing fit that came along suddenly, leaving her chest and throat burning as she frowned.

“Shit, Y/N, that sounds bad. Are you okay?” Reggie asked, his voice softer than before and full of concern, something rare for the jock. “Can you ask your parents to get you some medicine or something?”

“They’re not home,” Y/N told him, wheezing slightly when she started feeling another coughing fit coming along. “Look Reg I need to go, don’t worry about me I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, see you.” Reggie responded before she lifted the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing as she just dropped her phone onto the duvet, too tired to reach over and put it back on her nightstand.

As quickly as she had been woken up her eyes started closing again, drifting off into an uncomfortable and achey sleep that she expected to drift in and out of all day.

What was not expected was a loud knock at her door just over an hour later, followed by four impatient rings of her doorbell.

Y/N scowled as she opened her eyes, hoping whoever was there would go away, though after six more impatient rings of her doorbell and bangs against the door that she was sure could leave a dent she groaned and forced herself out of bed to open the door.

Everything was sore as she got to her feet and shuffled into her slippers, still in the same pyjama trousers and an old Bulldogs jumper that she had stolen from Reggie that she had been in for the whole weekend. Her hair was still up in the same beyond messy bun too, loose hairs spreading out like she had been electrocuted. The flush in her cheeks from her fever was prominent, sticking out against the pale sickly colour of the rest of her face.

By the time she had gotten to the door she was wheezing from another coughing fit, and had to cover her mouth with her arm again as she pulled it open to reveal who was there.

Reggie Mantle.

“M’lady.” He bowed falsely as she had opened the door and she frowned in confusion, eyeing him up.

He was still dressed like he was going to school, his backpack still slung over his shoulder, though in his arms he carried a flask, a handful of sunflowers that looked suspiciously like the ones she had in her front garden, a water bottle, and a bottle of medicine.

“Reggie, what- what are you doing here?” Y/N’s mouth opened as she stared at him, more confused than anything. He didn’t particularly like school but he never skipped Mondays - Mondays were the days for Bulldogs practice.

“I’m here to see my favourite little honey-bun of course.” Reggie teased as he reached out a somehow free hand and gently tapped the edge of her nose before he held everything with two hands again as he stepped inside without waiting for her to let him, allowing the door to shut behind him.

“You have school.” Y/N deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes as he looked at her.

“Thanks Captain Obvious, what a real find you have there.” Reggie responded and Y/N huffed as she crossed her arms.

“No seriously Reg what’re you doing here, you’re gonna miss class and-“ Y/N started before she cut herself off as she started coughing again, wincing as the pain spread through her chest with every cough she let into her sleeve.

“Okay calm down before you end up dying on me,” Reggie shook his head, emptying his arms onto the nearest surface so he could gently rub her back as she coughed. “You said your parents weren’t here and it’s really shitty to have to be sick on your own so I wanted to help.”

When Y/N had turned to look at him he was smiling genuinely which caused a similar expression to form over her lips, thankful that he would do something so kind for her. “Thanks Reg.”

“No problem,” He shook his head, before he paused and moved to grab the flowers again and held them out to her. “These are for you, sugar plum.” He teased and she rolled her eyes but took the flowers nonetheless.

“Thank you, I’ve got some sunflowers just like this outside.” Y/N smiled and almost laughed out loud at the panicked look that briefly crossed his face.

“What a coincidence,” Reggie mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, before he cleared his throat and took the flowers back from her. “Okay, you go get in bed and I’ll get these in a glass and sort everything else out.”

“Everything else? Reggie what-“

“Go, now, don’t make me count to three.” He threatened jokingly, and though she rolled her eyes she still turned to walk back upstairs, leaving Reggie to fumble around downstairs. He had been in her house enough times to know where everything was already. Reggie usually came to her house when things were getting hard with his dad, and although her parents claimed to have no clue what his situation with his dad was like, there was always a blow-up bed prepared on her bedroom floor when he happened to stay for dinner.

Y/N got back into bed and propped her pillows up so she was sat against the headboard, signing as she leaned back. It was another ten minutes before Reggie walked through her bedroom door, carrying a tray with him that he placed on her bedside table. On the tray sat the sunflowers in a glass of water, a bottle of water, a bottle of medicine, and a bowl of soup - which was what she was assuming was in the flask he brought. Even though he didn’t seem like the type, Reggie was an amazing cook, and made the best soup. She had mentioned how much she liked it once, and somehow since then whenever she was feeling sad or unwell Reggie brought her some of his soup for her to have.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile softly as she watched him carefully place the tray down before he moved to sit on the bed beside her, passing over the bowl of soup with a spoon.

“Thank you, Reggie.” Y/N said softly, her voice full of sincerity as she leaned against him slightly, smiling further into her first spoonful of soup when she felt his arm curl around her shoulders.

Y/N and Reggie had always been very close. It was normal for them to hold hands, or for him to carry her, or to pretty much do everything that a couple would do, other than kiss. Half of the time Y/N didn’t know where they stood on terms of their relationship, whether they were best friends or whether they were more, but she knew for a fact that she wouldn’t trade it for anything; she had the best person on the planet all to herself.

Y/N ate the soup quietly as she listened to Reggie telling some story about football, letting him do all of the talking as she had the soup that he had made for her. She didn’t look away from him as he spoke, and before she knew it she had finished the whole bowl of soup and half of her bottle of water by the time his story was over.

She wheezed again as she coughed which prompted Reggie to reach over and grab the bottle of medicine, causing her to frown a little.

“The liquid stuff’s really gross.” She pouted, and Reggie just rolled his eyes as he poured a spoonful out.

“Take it or I’ll spoon feed you.” Reggie threatened jokingly, and thinking he wouldn’t she just shook her head and didn’t take the spoon from him, leaving him holding it up in the air.

Reggie just shook his head and lifted his spare hand up to her, a finger underneath her chin which he used to tilt her head upwards. Her mouth fell agape upon shock of the action, her heart suddenly fluttering in her chest madly, so he used the opportunity to fit the spoon into her mouth so she could have the medicine.

Y/N pulled a face as soon as the bitter taste hit her tongue which prompted the jock to laugh as he took the spoon back, and handed her the water bottle to wash away the bad taste.

“Aww you’re so cute, you know that snookums?” He teased as he tucked her underneath his arm again, and she just groaned quietly as she nudged his ribs with her elbow.

“Cut it with the pet names, Mantle.” She huffed quietly as she let her head drop to rest on his shoulder.

“Why, pumpkin, you’re just way too adorable to stop.” Reggie teased again and grinned, causing her to just roll her eyes in response.

After a moment she watched as Reggie reached over to her bedside table to grab her hairbrush, and before she could ask what he was doing, she felt his fingers carefully pull the current hair tie out of her hair before he started running the brush through her hair gently. Her eyes fluttered closed as he brushed her hair, and then ran his fingers through it after; which caused butterflies to pool in her stomach and a stupid girlish smile to paint over her lips.

She stayed quiet for another few moments as she leaned into him, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper she was wearing to keep her fingers busy before she turned her head to look up at him again once he had finished brushing her hair, leaving it in a loose ponytail once he was done. “Thank you for coming today,” She said softly, meeting his eyes as he smiled genuinely too. “It means a lot.”

“It’s no problem, I just didn’t want you to be alone.” He said softly and shrugged a little.

Y/N smiled softly, though yawned before she could say anything else, her eyes closing for a brief moment. With being exhausted from being sick anyways, paired with the warm soup in her belly and the comforting arm around her shoulders, it was extremely tempting to fall asleep there and then.

“Get some sleep,” Reggie mumbled as he gently rubbed her arm, prompting her eyes to close properly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Thanks Reg.” Y/N whispered softly with a sleepy smile across her lips.

“Of course.” He muttered, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head which caused her to smile a little more as she relaxed into him, sleepy and happy in the arm of her best friend.

Best friend, though maybe more.

[getthebutters]

ULTIMATE BOTTOM'S GUIDE TO ANAL HYGIENE & MAINTNENCE

When it comes to sex, nothing can ruin the moment faster than bad hygiene; this especially true when it comes to anal sex. So, today, I’ve got some tips to get your booty clean and make sure you’re as ready as you can be for those surprise moments. Here’s your step-by-step guide to prepping for anal sex.

After these 5 simple steps, I’ve got a few more advanced tips for folks who’ve become a bit devote to backdoor play. You big slut! Good for you!

 #1 Deliver your food baby

If you’re in labor or close to it, do your business. Make sure to pay attention to what it feels like to be empty, it’ll help in times when you can’t properly prepare.

 #2 Lock that ass up

Before you start prepping to be anally penetrated, it’s smart to use an anti-diarrhea medication. Mylanta and Pepto work the best but it doesn’t really matter what kind you use; just make sure to take it about 30-45 minutes before anal play. Shout out to Cole Maverick of Maverick Men for that porn star pro tip.

 #3 Wash yo’ ass!

Soap and water are your best friends for most hygiene, including anal. Hop in the shower and stick a soapy finger up your tush. Swirl it around and make sure the lower part of your rectum is squeaky clean. Even if you’re not worried about cleanliness, why not stick a finger or two up there just for funsies.

Go light on the soap because it can dry out the natural mucus inside your rectum and cause problems. Also, do not use antibacterial soap because you need those natural bacteria to keep you from getting sick.

 #4 Flush yo’ ass out.

If you’re planning on getting it in deep, you need to make sure you’re clean and I mean squeaky; this is where the enema comes in. It helps clear your rectum and colon using water to get shit (pun intended) moving. It takes a while, about an hour, to complete the whole process but you will be clean as a whistle.

 #5 Bend over bitch!

This isn’t really a tip but rather what you want to hear after making all these anal preparations. If you follow these tips, you could be hearing some hot piece screaming that your way. Have fun, you crazy kids.

  Advance Anal Hygiene & Maintenance Tips:

Now, that we’ve got the more basic tips out the way, let’s talk about tips for folks who want to enjoy anal on the regular.

 #1 Wipe yo’ ass

It’s time to upgrade how you wipe yo’ ass. For too long, your poor anus has suffered under the tyranny of a toilet paper regime. Break free from your oppressive shackles and finally get that all-over clean feeling you’ve been wanting. Vote for the liberty of clean booty; vote baby wipes in 2013.

But seriously, other than maybe a bidet, baby wipes and toilet wipes are the best way to get your booty clean after you’ve done your business. Guys, this tip is especially important for your hairy butts; if you want someone shoving their face all up in the crack of yo’ ass – and trust me you do – you need to make it as clean as possible.

 #2 Fix yo’ diet!

Shit happens, it just does and there’s nothing you can do to change that. But you can change how efficiently your exhaust system works. In order to fix what comes out your butt, you’ve got to fix what goes in your mouth.

Fiber is like a magic supplement that helps your digestive tract work more efficiently. If you’re into eating a lot of fruits and veggies like apples and broccoli then just add a bunch of leafy and dark green stuff to your cart. If not, try a fiber supplement: powder, pills, tabs, liquids, etc. You’ll have to play around and find the mix that works for you but it will make a big difference.

Make sure to stay away from spicy food, dairy and anything you know causes nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach or diarrhea. For obvious reasons.

 #3 Stretch yo ass out

For a healthy body, regular exercise is important; the same principle applies your anus. If you want to play anal yoga games without Olympic level warm ups every single time, you’re going to need to stay in a state of elasticity.

For this one, all you have to do is play with your butt. Wear a butt plug, use some fingers or even get gangbanged, it doesn’t matter. By simply playing with your ass 3-4 times a week, you’ll keep it strong and flexible for whatever else you’ve got in store.

[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.

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