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horseshoe-bay-ledger · 2 years

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Bleeding Hearts — VII

Part 7: The Distortion of Echoes

(Part 6 | The Whole Thing)

“What do you mean ‘another Nancy’?” asked George.

She had come this time, which spoke to the importance of their recent revelation.

They were all strewn across various pieces of furniture in the Youth Centre. The lights had been left low and the doors firmly locked—just in case.

“We mean, that there is someone else in Horseshoe Bay who looks exactly like Nancy but is not Nancy,” Bess explained

“Well, how do we know we’ve got the real Nancy here?” George questioned, prodding Nancy’s upper arm not so gently.

“Hey!” Nancy said, rubbing her arm.

She was only partly offended because it was the first question she would have asked too. Nancy looked to Bess, knowing someone else needed to confirm she was actually herself and Ace wasn’t looking at any of them right now.

He was standing silently behind Nick’s chair, leaning against the wall—brooding in the most Ace-like way possible: genuinely but unconvincingly.

“Well, this is the one that wasn’t pulling bloody roses, thorns and all, from her throat or painting herself in blood runes,” Bess pointed out.

George gave a nod that said ‘fair enough’.

“Ace was right, something was off with Nancy,” Nick said. “And he was right about the doppelgänger.”

Nancy’s eyes widened slightly at this revelation. The others had been discussing her. In all fairness, she had no idea what the other Nancy had done so it might have been warranted but she still didn’t like the idea.

“Wish I had put those two pieces together sooner,” Ace said, like that was something easily done.

“But how is there another Nancy? I don’t understand,” George replied. “What—who—created her?”

“Well if she is indeed the doppelgänger that is creating all this chaos, it must have been created by Nancy—”

“I haven’t—,” Nancy interjected.

“No, not by you Nancy. ‘Created by Nancy’s blood’ was what I was going to say. Remember these creatures are a ‘reflection from whomst their blood is drain…nst’ or whatever. So however she was formed, it came from your blood.”

“Hmm, haven’t donated blood to any evil entities lately, Nancy?” George said sarcastically at first which turned into dismay as she finished her question. She may have known it before she’d even opened her mouth to speak.

They had all figured it out.

Shoulders slumped.

Breaths were exhaled.

Heads landed in hands.

“Temperance always has another trick up her sleeve,” Nancy said, attempting to insert humour into her voice and failing spectacularly.

“It’s always blood with her isn’t it?” George commented. “You think in the centuries she was alive she could have come up with something more creative.”

“A signature’s value is that it never changes,” Nick pointed out.

“I’m not sure that’s completely true,” Bess said. “But if it works, it works, I guess.”

“Uh guys?” Nancy said.

She had been reviewing the pages of the book Bess had found in the photos she had sent of them.

“Did you see this?” she said, turning her phone screen to them and pointing. “See? At the bottom of the page there’s a footnote that looks like it’s almost completely faded but the rest of the text is fine. It’s like it was removed somehow and someone just didn’t finish the job. I didn’t catch that when we were looking at the actual book.”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Bess said. “Hang on let me up the contrast on the photo to see if we can read it from here.”

Bess squinted, trying to read what the footnote used to say. Her face hardened ever so subtly as she did.

“Hey, Ace, what does ‘in mente et corpore’ mean?”

“Something like ‘in mind and body,’” he said. “I don’t know though my Latin’s pretty rough.”

Bess just gave a small nod, and turned to Nancy.

“Hey, Nancy,” she said, falsely cheerful.

“Hey, Bess,” Nancy said in the same, but deliberately exaggerated, way.

“Umm, good news is your evil twin might not be entirely evil.”

“And the bad news?”

“That she might not be entirely evil because part of her is you. She doesn’t just share your physical existence, but all your thoughts and memories of your life as well,” Bess hurried out.

“Oh, kind of like that Ancient Egyptian thing… uh…,” Nick said, trying to remember. “Ka, maybe? Soul double? Same memories and feelings as their counterparts. I think they’re supposed to live in your body until death though. As part of you. Not as a separate, walking-around-town person.”

Bess shrugged, Nick knew more about that kind of stuff than the rest of them.

“Uh-huh. So we think she shares everything with me? My memories, my thoughts, my, uh, feelings too?” Nancy asked trying to sound indifferent, purely clinical.

Bess nodded.

“Safe to assume it’s all part and parcel, yes,” she said, before clarifying. “But only until the point the blood left the, um, donors body. Your body. She couldn’t share anything with you after that obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nancy echoed, processing what that meant. “Oh god,” she let out under her breath.

She needed to maintain her composure but she couldn’t help the panicked glance she shot in Ace’s direction.

The look he gave her in return confirmed her worst fears.

His nervous swallow. The soft set of his eyes. His mouth opened slightly like he was about to say something. His sympathetic eyebrows raised in a silent apology.

It was a look that truly asked nothing of her but took everything from her anyway.

She remembered her path at that time. How ending up with Ace felt inevitable—a foregone conclusion before Temperance had taken that away from her.

But, of course, this other Nancy wouldn’t know that. She had to live with Temperance’s curse but her doppelgänger didn’t, it was only put on her as Temperance died. No, the last thing she and this other Nancy shared was the fear of losing Ace, the glance they had shared before his soul got split.

Ace’s look now was confirmation that the other Nancy had walked further down that path than she ever had the chance to. The curse wasn’t triggered because it was not Nancy acting on her feelings even though those feelings belonged her. What cruel irony she was once again subject to.

“So the day of the Veil was the only time when Temperance could have created her,” Bess said, tearing Nancy’s gaze from Ace.

“With the donut blood?” Nick asked, somewhat incredulously.

“The donut blood,” Bess confirmed. “When we split Ace and Charity’s soul some of the blood was left in the transfusion tube at Icarus Hall. Temperance must have had a chance to do something with it before we discovered the Copperhead. Beyond, you know, wreaking havoc on all of human kind.”

“So a fail safe,” George said.

“Maybe,” Nancy said, mournfully, “She was one for contingency plans.”

She glanced at Ace again, on instinct. He, thankfully, was deliberately not looking at her anymore which was good because she couldn’t trust him to not read her mind.

“How do we know it’s not the other time Temperance took Nancy’s blood?” Nick asked. “…Or any of the other times, actually.”

“Valid question,” Bess said. “But I think because she can’t leave Horseshoe Bay and has been causing all these problems along the border it would suggest she was ‘born’ here, and, so, Temperance must have created her when she was actually in Horseshoe Bay. Makes sense with the timing too.”

Nick nodded, agreeing with this line of logic.

“From what I understand, she wouldn’t have had her own body at first,” Bess supplied. “The lore says a there must be two full moons before the walker is corporeally untethered from the donor.”

“Whatever that means,” George said.

“It means that this other Nancy hasn’t been running around Horseshoe Bay this whole time.”

Ace shifted against the wall as Bess told them that.

“That’s a relief,” replied George.

George could speak for herself. Nancy wasn’t happy that there was a doppelgänger of her running around at all even if it hadn’t been the full six weeks or so.

But she knew what George meant: it could always be worse. And she had experience with supernatural entities usurping her life.

“Oh my gosh,” Bess clapped her hands and turned towards Ace. “That’s why there was a ‘disturbance in the force’. Those rituals I was trying to do with Nancy wouldn’t work properly because there was two of her. They must share the same genetic make-up so the DNA we were using muddled the rituals. I’ve heard about problems with similar rituals done on identical twins.”

“Uh, what rituals?” Nancy asked incredulously. “And what ‘DNA’.”

“Umm… It was just your hair. And it’s nothing, really,” Bess said hurriedly, trying to avoid a mess she had inadvertently created. “Can we maybe discuss this later?”

Nancy unconsciously reached up to touch her head.

“Oh, I’d definitely rather talk about it now,” Nancy insisted.

“Wait,” George said suddenly, eyes flashing with realisation too and inadvertently coming to Bess’ rescue, “This explains the pie.”

“What?” Nancy asked confused. What the hell was going on with everybody right now.

“Bess, when was this full moon?” asked George. “The second since Temperance died?”

“It would have been Saturday,” Bess answered, double checking that assertion on with a quick Google search.

“That’s when all those animal things and stuff started, right?”

Bess nodded.

“Nancy give us a rundown on all the times you’ve seen any of us since then,” George asked.

Nancy tried to remember where she had been this week through the tired haze of her mind. It should not have been that difficult a task. She felt almost like she’d been eating those spiked donuts again.

“Um, okay. Well, I… haven’t seen much of anyone this week. I ran into Nick getting coffee—downstairs. That’s the first time I saw any of you guys. On Monday, I think. I don’t know it was early because he was just getting up and I hadn’t gotten to bed yet. I dropped by the Claw that afternoon as well because Carson was out of mint coffee.”

George and Nick nodded in sync, both recalling those respective events.

“The Drews and their caffeine,” George commented.

“Then when Bess texted the group chat Tuesday morning, I was at the Claw with all of you. Ace was really worried about Hercules butterflies—”

“Moths,” Ace corrected, yet again, but it didn’t sound like his heart was in it this time. “They’re moths.”

That was not something she would normally get wrong. She blinked, trying to get her bleary mind to refocus.

“Well, yeah, that. Then I got distracted looking through some records and forgot we planned on meeting back at the Claw.”

The rest of them shuffled and fidgeted uncomfortably at that but she continued anyway.

“…by the time I realised it was too late to send an apology text. Especially after that time I accidentally woke Bess up and never heard the end of it.”

Bess opened her mouth to respond but wasn’t given the opportunity.

“And yesterday?” Ace asked. His tone was strange only because of the fact he was obviously trying to keep it measured and disinterested.

There it was.

Whatever had happened between Ace and this imposter had happened yesterday, then.

She remembered the way he had reached out and grabbed her hand last night at the Historical Society—it made more sense now. He had mistaken her for the other Nancy. That stung more than it should, and in more ways than one.

But then she realised what that could mean and panic seized at her. Ace might have already triggered the curse and she would be none the wiser.

But there was no way to confirm that without telling them about the curse which, of course, would ensure the curse was triggered. That fear that gripped her every minute of every hour of every day about the ambiguity of Temperance’s words remained.

“Nancy?” Nick prompted, ducking his head slightly to get her attention back on them.

“What? Oh, yesterday,” she continued. “Ryan and I went grocery shopping in the morning—before he left. Don’t think I saw any of you. Then I spent the whole day at Icarus Hall until I got Bess’ text reminding us to meet up at the Historical Society. So I went there, then I went home. The first time I saw you all today was when I caught Bess and Ace spying into my backyard and now here we all are,” she finished, lifting her arms up and clapping them back down to punctuate her day-by-day.

There was an awkward silence that settled among the group as they all considered the problem before them.

“The other night,” George explained, “what we thought was you showed up at the Claw. It? She? Whatever-it-is was eating blueberry pie.”

Nancy physically blanched at the thought, she had been burned one too many times by the blueberry pies at the Claw. A few weeks ago she had sworn off them for good. State pride be damned.

“Ha, see I knew you still had a vendetta against them,” George declared victoriously. Then, lowering her voice she said seriously, “you know it’s a different supplier now right?”

Nancy just stared back at George with an unimpressed expression.

“Right. Sorry. Not the time,” George back-pedalled.

Nancy slumped back in her chair, running her hands over her face.

“Uh-huh, that’s why you—uh, she—wasn’t wearing your locket,” said Nick, whose quiet observance and understanding of Nancy was often underrated. “I thought you might have just been up to no good and put it in your car for safekeeping.”

“Wait, so,” Bess said, “if that was her and not our Nancy, does that mean…?”

“She knows we’re onto her?” Nick supplied. “She must. She saw the map. I thought it was strange Nancy didn’t offer up a theory on it.”

“Oh-kay. Does anyone else have any more epiphanies they wanted offer up about my evil twin?”

She regretted asking it immediately. It came from a frustrated and anxious place, she’d been unable to stop it from spilling out. She could only hope Ace didn’t answer.

Bess looked at Nancy then with doleful eyes.

“I’m so sorry we didn’t realise sooner Nancy,” Bess apologised. “We should have followed through on our suspicions—figured it out straight away.”

Nancy shook her head as if to shrug off Bess’ apology.

“No, Nancy,” George cut in. “She’s right, we should have known we were eating pie with your doppelgänger… Now that is another apology I never thought I’d have to make.”

“Guys, seriously, it’s fine,” Nancy replied. “She has my face and my memories, remember? You couldn’t have known.”

She didn’t like them feeling like they owed her an apology because they didn’t. Her mind was entirely set on what to do next.

“Your phone,” Ace finally said out of nowhere. It was just loud enough to be heard in the large space, but it was its quietness that commanded their attention.

He looked directly at Nancy then like he was speaking to only her.

“You got all our texts,” he explained, louder now. “She doesn’t have your phone. Sorry, I know we’re overloaded on epiphanies right now, but...”

Nancy couldn’t help but smile. Clever, clever Ace.

“Of course,” she said, already sitting up and pulling it out of her pocket.

“You should change the passcode,” Ace suggested. “Just in case she gets hold of it somehow. Something not personal so she couldn’t guess it. And turn off biometrics.”

The same thought had crossed her mind as he said it. She felt a strange warmth spread through her. Despite everything they still shared the same wavelength.

“She doesn’t have—hasn’t had—my car either,” Nancy replied patting her pocket containing the keys. “As far as I know. But she did steal one of my bags.”

A strange expression crossed Ace’s face that she was unable to decipher.

“Well that’s two things we’ve got going for us,” Nick said to muster up some reassurance.

Nancy appreciated it but it wasn’t doing much to put her at ease right now.

“She doesn’t have the rest of us, either,” George added. “Although we might have to write on you with permanent marker so we know you’re our’s.”

Nancy appreciated that too. The first part at least.

“So where do we go from here?” Bess asked.

“Well, we’ve diagnosed the problem. What’s the treatment? How do we deal with her?” Nick put the question to all of them.

“Don’t think this is the kind we can resolve by just asking nicely,” George said. “I bet Temperance put a lot of spice in with the sugar and everything nice.”

“Mm, that’s true. Reasonable negotiation hasn’t seemed to work with Temperance or her creations thus far,” Ace said.

“Well she’s obviously been struggling to leave. Like she’s unable to.”

“Surely Temperance would’ve accounted for that?”

“Maybe she didn’t have time to impart that information, maybe she left some other clue or message we could find. So we know what she’s up to.”

Bess’ expression changed to one which was only missing a literal lightbulb turning on over her head. The revelations the night was providing kept coming it seemed.

“Nancy!” She said. “Are all of Temperance’s letters from Icarus Hall with me? At the Historical Society?”

“That I know of, yes. What are you thinking?”

“That if she has your memories, she knows they exist. And she’d be astute enough to figure out that Temperance may have left some information in them for her to do whatever it was Temperance created her for.”

“So we can figure out what she’s going to do next. Yes,” Nancy said picking up Bess’ train of logic.

“There was a few in there that looked like they were in another language or something,” Bess continued. “Couldn’t make heads or tails of them now I’m thinking they were maybe some sort of code. This double of you may have been able to track them down, I think we mentioned where they were the other night when she was with us. Sorry.”

“So the Historical Society….” Ace said.

“Nick can you check the tapes from here?” Bess asked.

“Yeah, I made sure I have easy access to it after what happened with Artemis,” Nick said flicking through his phone. “And Hannah and Ace.”

Nancy did not need a reminder of that particular incident right now. Nor did she need reminding that the universe was not on their side when it came to her and Ace’s timing.

“Check late late nights and early mornings first,” Ace guided. “Otherwise Bess or I would’ve been there and I don’t remember Nancy randomly dropping by since Saturday.”

“No, neither,” Bess added.

A short while later, Nick’s forehead creased in concern.

“Uh, Nancy?” He asked, Nancy raised her eyes in response. “You didn’t happen to stop by at 4 am yesterday and leave with a piece of paper did you?”

“Would’ve probably mentioned that if I had,” she replied. “So she found something then. Does the footage show the content of the page?”

Nick tried zooming in but it was well hidden from view with only the blank side of the page visible.

“Ugh, of course” Nancy said. “She’s had this page for nearly two days who knows what she could’ve done or how much of a head start she has on us.”

“Well, unless it was you at the morgue yesterday, she might not have had the whole time” Ace said quietly, not giving any further details.

Bess, George and Nick all reacted to this, yet another revelation from the night, with different degrees of astonishment. Ace had interacted with the other Nancy and he hadn’t bothered to mention it to them earlier.

Nancy was entirely unsurprised.

“We were following her all day today too,” he added. “Until the ritual thingy.”

“What?” George asked. “Why?”

“We thought it was Nancy” Ace replied.

“Question still stands,” George pointed out.

“Guys,” Nancy cut in, bailing herself and Ace out to varying extents. “The important thing is she has the page at all. And we have no idea what it says or what she’s going to do next. Ugh, it’s like dealing with Temperance all over again. The town could be in danger again and these past weeks would’ve been for nothing.”

Nick and Ace both narrowed their eyes at the last statement.

“Well,” Bess said calmly and a little smug, “It’s a good thing I’ve been adding them to the digital archive. Indexing might not be so boringly unimportant after all.”

Ace made an emphatic noise of agreement.

“We’ll know what she knows—she won’t be two steps ahead,” he said deliberately, directly his words towards Nancy.

“I think I gave you access to the Historical Society’s database the other week, just in case something came up at the morgue?” Bess prompted.

“Y—yes,” Ace said, jumping into action glad to have something to do finally, some momentum. “Is there a computer around here?”

“Yeah,” Nick said gesturing to where Ace could find one but Ace, as if he were a magnet, had already found it. “How will we know which page she took?”

“You could start looking through them and Bess and I could go to the Historical Society to figure it which one exactly is missing?” Nancy suggested also glad they could finally take action and stop talking about… things.

“I should probably go too,” George added quickly. “Or… at least, Nancy, you should stay here. We don’t want to lose track of you in case she tries to steal your identity again or, um, worse. All of us could go but that might be a little less incognito.”

Nancy did not like the idea of staying put. At all.

“She’s right,” Nick said apologetically. “It’s probably best if you stay here, Nancy. Safer.”

Nancy knew that there was no rational argument against it. Even with her phone, it was a risk to even leave the room without one of them. It would be unsustainable in the long term but for now she knew it made the most sense.

They also didn’t know what the other Nancy had planned. How long she could tolerate being babysat was an entirely different thing, a road she would walk down when it came to it.

And, like always, the rational argument won out.

Resigned, she rubbed her face and replied.

“Okay, fine, but stay safe and text us straight away when you’ve figured it out which one she took. She was pretty meticulous about writing everyday.”

And she let Bess and George leave without her.

Nancy didn’t miss the very intense whisper conversation Ace and Bess as he walked them out. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make out what they were saying or read their lips in profile, but she would be asking the question later.

She leaned back in her chair.

“I knew I should have read them sooner,” she said, thinking of what it had been like for her the last few weeks. “I—I just… couldn’t.”

“You didn’t have to, Nancy,” Ace stated so plainly as if it were ridiculous she was even mentioning it.

He plonked himself back down on the couch across from her and pulled the computer onto his lap.

“Besides, if there is a message it’s probably hidden and you wouldn’t have even known to look for it. And Bess has her great indexing system or whatever so we’ll have what we need soon. You’ve got too much information in your head already.”

The way he spoke somehow made her feel like they were the only two people in the entire world. She didn’t know how he did that, it was like a magic trick.

It was the perfect balance of emotional intuitiveness and rationality Ace always provided.

Nancy’s lips tightened in what one might generously describe as a smile, it was all she could offer.

The three of them fell into a silence thereafter.

Perhaps reading the energy of the room, Nick began nervously fixing something on a nearby shelf. Ace was tapping away at the borrowed computer for longer than she thought it would take him to access the archive.

Nancy felt restless sitting there doing nothing, and with nothing to do.

She let out a breath, swung herself out of her chair and walked toward the edge of the room.

“Since the day of the Veil,” Nancy echoed to no one but herself, looking out the window to the carpark. She could see the veins in the concrete that night had left.

Ace came up to her then. He was given away by the sound of him tripping over a chair leg. She wasn’t sure if he had heard what she had said or not—he always seemed like he didn’t but with Ace you could never tell.

He raised his hand as if to rest it reassuringly on her elbow but he hesitated and dropped it back to his side. He took up the spot next to her instead, and looked out the window with her shoulder to shoulder.

They remained that way, two minds on a dangerous collision course, for a long time. It was probably only a few seconds, but they stretched and warped in the way time did sometimes.

“Hey, I, uh, know it’s not the best time for this but… I just needed to check. While we wait. Just—the other day, at my apartment. I mean when, uh… when, we…”

He took a shaky breath and steadied himself.

Nancy knew what was coming but that didn’t soften the blow.

“With the barometer,” he finally got out. “When it broke. That was you, right?”

She tried not to visibly flinch.

His tone was deceptively neutral but vulnerability and an edge of hope snuck through.

Nancy hated this. Hated having to do this again. But this was her life now—ad infinitum.

It would get easier, she promised herself—she lied to herself.

She couldn’t look him in the eye but she responded to his question because he had asked it, and he deserved an answer.

Something about him always twisted her up and made her lose the inexorable façade she could throw up with anyone else in an instant.

He always saw right through it anyway so there was no point even really trying.

“Yeah,” she forced out, trying to sound normal but she heard how strangled her voice sounded.

She cleared her throat.

“It was me.”

It was all she could give him in this moment—a straight answer to a deceptively simple question.

“Thought so,” Ace said with a sad smile.

Why? She thought. Because I broke your heart?

He didn’t say anything else. Just shuffled away, leaving her to deal with the weight of being Nancy Drew by herself.

She remembered the tiredness she had felt this past week or so. Part of her recognised now that was probably due to having two of her living on this plane of existence, sharing a life.

But some of it was still her—was still that look on Ace’s face when she broke his heart and her own at the same time.

She felt tears beginning to form in her eyes and quickly blinked them away, shaking her thoughts off and refocusing. It was time to take action—to do something.

She turned back around to face the room, and began to be Nancy Drew.

They didn’t have to wait long for the message to come through from Bess and George, and Ace quickly pulled up the letter with the corresponding date on the Youth Centre’s laptop.

“Why is there a postage stamp on it?” Nick asked. “Who was she sending it to in… Poughkeepsie?”

“And what is this middle bit, is it supposed to be another language?” Ace asked. “Latin alphabet but I don’t recognise it, could it be a cypher? It just looks like actual gibberish.”

“You’re not far off,” Nancy said. “It’s a similar language game, I think. All the vowels shifted over one—so ‘a’ becomes ‘e’ and so on. The constants are shifted over two letters, not skipping any vowels unless you land on one. It’s pretty basic once you know what you’re going but it’s got a few tricks like ‘S’s and ‘T’s end up being the same—a ‘v’. Same code came up on a case I worked on when I was fifteen involving a man from Poughkeepsie and a parakeet.”

“Like the bird on the stamp,” Nick observed.

“Yeah, exactly. It was in the Ledger, I think it even made it to some local north-east news channels. Anyway, I recognise a couple of the words,” she added. “These breadcrumbs were left for me—or for the other me, I guess—to follow. Here…”

She went to lean over Ace’s shoulder like she would have done in the easy days of the past but thought better of it.

She asked him to print it out instead and Nancy, borrowing one of the Youth Centre’s giant colourful markers, began to figure out the meaning behind the letter as Nick and Ace watched on.

“This whole process feels like a sobriety test,” Ace commented.

It did feel that way a bit.

“This is telling us what we saw her doing in the backyard tonight, I think, about preparing her body” Nancy explained, writing the words above the words. “Yeah, ‘jupi’ becomes ‘home’ and ‘Dnuuf tapi’ means ‘blood rune’. Thank goodness Carson’s at Jean’s and Ryan’s away ‘til Monday. The last thing I needed was them seeing that, and worrying about any of this. They’ve been extra protective lately…”

Nancy continued translating the scribbled lines on the page quickly.

“So this is telling her what she needs for the ‘final ritual’ to break the barrier…” Nancy trailed off.

The downside to talking as you worked was sometimes you found you were saying something right when you didn’t want to voice it aloud.

And her mind was a whole sentence ahead of where her hand was writing.

Vjov tisaotiv bua vu vemi jit jietv.

Ace’s face had paled. He had been able to work it out too.

He sat back staring off into nothing.

Nancy thought she might know exactly what he was thinking.

“Guys, what does…?” Nick asked, trying to figure it out as well but impeded by the fact that, for him, it was upside down.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up.

“Huh, figures,” Nick said, leaning back dejectedly. “Should have known.”

The three of them sat there in silence which was almost immediately broken by the return of Bess and George.

“Knock knock!” Bess said, declaring their presence without bothering in the slightest to actually knock.

“We come baring Temperance’s crazy-lady manifesto minus a page,” George said, carrying the aforementioned stack of papers in her arms.

“So, how did we go with the letter?” Bess asked.

“Bess’ indexing was superb,” Ace replied, seemingly kicking back into gear. “We found it in no time. It was a coded message, but one Temperance knew Nancy would know how to solve.”

“So the other Nancy would be able to as well,” Bess said nodding. “What did it say?”

They all hesitated, not wanting to be the one breaking the news.

“Come on, rip off the Band-Aid. What is it this time?” George asked.

The boys continued to avoid eye contact.

“My heart,” Nancy said, sounding braver and calmer than she felt. “She needs to take my heart.”

Nancy watched George’s jaw actually drop.

“Talk about poetic irony,” Nancy tried, going for dark humour.

None of them found it the slightest bit funny.

Give Temperance her blood to save Ace’s heart and lose her own—it felt par for the course. Obviously breaking both of their hearts at the same time wasn’t enough. Like George said, it always had to be something bloody.

“So that’s why she didn’t just create a double of herself?” George suggested “Because if she died she would have not had her original heart and she would be trapped here with no way out?”

“I suppose so,” Bess replied.

“Well actually, about that. There’s something else,” Nancy said, looking at the letter again. “The last two lines aren’t part of the coded message at all. ‘You know the rest. See you again soon.’”

“See… Temperance… again soon?” Nick asked. “Is she trying to cheat death… twice? It’s a good way to get stuck pushing a boulder up a hill.”

Nancy’s heart sunk. She thought she was done with Temperance, even though her presence still lingered over her life.

“I’m more concerned about the ‘you know the rest’,” George commented.

Nancy explained how it had been coded, and she left it to Bess to translate the last few lines of the ciphered message that contained the exact details of the ritual.

Nancy had already done it in her head but she needed to ruminate on it for a bit.

The others were sorting through the letters comparing it to Bess’ online database to make sure no other letters were missing.

When Bess made an emphatic full stop with the blue marker she’d been using, Nancy turned to her and asked her something she desperately needed clarified.

“So this ritual that requires my heart,” Nancy said, casually like she was asking what Bess wanted for dinner. “Do we think it is more… metaphorical or literal?”

She was fairly certain it was literal but she was thinking of her friends, of Ace, of Ryan, of Carson and everyone else who held a piece of her heart. How they could be in danger once again and it would be entirely her fault.

No, she reminded herself firmly with a voice in her head that sounded strikingly like Ace, not her fault.

“From what I can infer from the ritual instructions,” Bess replied. “Literal. She’s a creature of flesh born of blood so I don’t know if symbolism will work. She also needs to… do things with it. So she needs the physical thing.”

“Right,” Nancy agreed, only mostly reassured. She knew the others were listening in.

No one said anything.

“I could offer myself up as bait, then,” she suggested. “Draw her out of the shadows.”

“No,” Ace, Nick and George all managed to say at the same time. They looked to Bess incredulously.

“What? It’s not the worst idea in the world,” she defended. “We’ve done it before.”

“Thank you,” said Nancy.

“Absolutely not,” Nick said. “Need I remind you that you very nearly died those times? None of us are intentionally putting ourselves in harm’s way. Not with some entity we know nothing about—whether they have Nancy’s face or not, there’s no difference.”

“Well we’re going to have to figure out something,” Nancy argued. “I’m not going to just wait around for her to come at me with a pair of sharp tongs.”

“It has to be done at the site of her creation. So Icarus Hall I presume,” Bess explained, cutting in as she re-read the letter.

“Of course, where else?” George asked rhetorically.

“And your heart needs to be still beating when the ritual is performed so…”

“The smart thing to do would be to get you outside the town boundaries where she can’t reach you,” Ace said.

“You’re right, it would be the smart thing,” Nancy replied.

Ace looked at her.

She knew that he knew she was not going to take that option—probably that she was going to do the exact opposite. He took a very deep breath.

“Yeah, only,” Bess said, not picking up on the nuance. “Nancy might also be stuck in town while this other her exists—she may not be able to leave either. They’re separate people obviously but they’re tied to the same sort-of life force right? So that might not be viable.”

“Okay, but we’ve got to come up with a decent plan then,” Nick said. “We could always test that theory—a few moths never hurt anyone. But it needs to be a plan that doesn’t involve dangling Nancy in front of her evil twin like a prized piece of meat.”

“Agreed,” said George.

“So what now?” Bess asked.

Nancy inclined her head.

“We get to work.”

...

(Part 8: The Essence of a Bleeding Heart)

#for the longest time the other Nancy was ‘donut Nancy’ in my head #nace fic #nancy drew fic #fic #bleeding hearts

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Oh! To remember!" - Hubby!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

gifs from @thomasfckinshelby {here is the post}

Summary: You make Tommy a surprise by taking him to the countryside. It brings back memories of the two teenagers you used to be before the war happened.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I just want him to be happy, seriously + POLLY BEING A GRANDMOTHER???? Our Queen.

PS: I know I talked to you about a carpets story, it IS coming don't worry!

*Masterlist*

It was early in the morning when the rays of the sun fondled your face, making you open your eyes. Tommy was already up, putting on his tie and you almost jumped from bed to take it from his hands.

As you were still a bit dizzy from how early it was and how fast you got up, you stumbled on the carpet, but his rough hands caught your waist as a giggle escaped your lips.

His brows were raised, "So early in the morning, you got some' to do today, eh?" You could hear mockery in his tone and you hit his chest with the palm of one of your hands as the other was pulling on his undone tie.

As he leant forwards towards you, you teased his lips with the tip of your nose and finally gave him your lips after hearing a groan from his throat.

He perfectly knew what was happening today, you drew a black star a week from now in his agenda.

"Y/N!" Tommy called, and his desk lady pleaded with her eyes to not let her deal with him.

it wasn't as if he was a bad guy, no, he just appeared to be as cold as ice and as distant as he could be.

You were about to ignore his call along with the staring secretary but you saw her lips moving without any sound getting out "Please."

Okay, this time you will not let her be any more terrified by your husband.

It was a little game for you, to never fully talk to him, just like he did. Even though he had reasons not to talk so much and you didn't. You used to leave him pieces of evidence here and there so he would understand what you were up to.

No need to say that whenever you would sneak into his office to put a black star on his agenda, it was to his secretary he would later ask questions, and as she was oh so scared, she wouldn't give satisfying answers which made him become even more cold and distant.

You weren't working anywhere but staying Home all day long waiting for him to get back wasn't on the schedule. What you loved to do most was to organise all types of dinners and parties.

Tommy was most of the time tired but he never missed one, as he knew it was important for you.

Only, whenever he thought the party should be over, he would come closer to you and gently press his lips on your forehead, his fingers diving into your mane.

And just like that, you understood it was time to lead the people out of the mansion, so you could take care of your Shelby.

You closed the door in front of you, rolling your eyes to yourself and joined his office. Your head peeked through the door and you cleared your throat, leading Timmy to lift his gaze to you.

He patted the page, "Why is there a black star on Thursday?"

"Come 'ere" you answered, your index indicating to Tommy to come near you.

He got up without hesitation and walked towards you, making you enter his office completely and close the door behind you.

The connexion between you had always been more than mental or physical, it was a mix of both with something else, something you could never fully get, but you just knew of its presence.

Maybe it was your beings that were combining together, you were him and he was you.

Or was he more you than yourself?

Your back was flat on the door when you felt his hands on your hips. A smile instantly grew on your lips as his blue icy iris were staring into your soul that was hidden behind your iris.

A grumpy "Hm" escaped his lips as your foreheads touched. He closed his eyes for a second, the smell of your perfume filling his nostrils. He was elsewhere, in a dimension where only you and he existed. Somewhere he was safe and relieved of any pressure.

"A surprise, Tommy." You muttered only inches away from his lips.

His eyes opened softly and he raised a hand to your face, cupping one of your cheeks. You were staring at him as his thumb moved to rub your lips softly.

Nothing needed to be said in those moments, what your eyes were saying was more than enough. You understood him, and he understood you, it has been like that for so long, but the love bonding you never extinguished, and you couldn't imagine that someday it would.

"You'll just have to bring yourself, I'll take care of the rest. Only you and me." You pointed towards him, then towards you before flattening your hand on his shoulders in a tender way.

"Don't come back too late, huh?" You raised a brow as you tied his tie around his neck.

"If the answer doesn’t please you I’ll accidentally get choked. That’s the plan," He put his hand on yours to avoid you from even thinking of doing it.

You glared at him.

"I know your tricks now." He finished and you wanted to show him your tongue so badly, but you tried to stay solemn, your head high.

"I will not even comment on such calumny, Mr Shelby.”

You were so grateful he was still speaking to you fluently. He wasn’t like that with anyone but your children and you, which you found to be a blessing.

You knew he wasn’t living a life where he could be with his family as often as he would like and that his past deeply scarred him, but he almost was the same with you, still trying to joke and laugh even if his tone wasn’t following the movement, he tried. And that was all that mattered.

You had the love of your life and four beautiful children by your side, nothing would ever take that away from you. And even if you weren’t in business, by not trying to interfere, you were easing him more than you even knew.

(...)

“Beth! bring down your brothers and sisters, grandma Polly is here” You screamed toward the stairs as a maid brought the tea to the living room.

Polly looked at you with the type of stare only she, could give, ”you’re up to something, I can tell.”

You crossed your legs with a pleased smile, “Taking my Tommy to the countryside!” You said trying to remain calm, but she knew you too well.

“Well, I wonder why you’re not all over the place already, it’s not like you’re the good calm girl.” She smiled at you, “I’m sure he will be happy. But don’t think he’ll show ya.” She patted your knee with a side-eye look, her trembling voice filled with sarcasm.

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I know how Aberama loves having our children.” You teased and she giggled. “It’s me taking care of all of them.”

“I knew it! He, too, is a child!” You exclaimed, raising your hands in the air.

“What boy of this family isn’t?” Polly raised her eyebrows before your youngest boy ran into her, followed by the entire team. They were squeezing their grandma in their arms as if she would be gone in a blink of an eye.

You laughed so hard seeing how they were all around Polly that couldn’t even hug them all.

Your heart was full of love at this moment.

Your eldest daughter came sitting on the armchair of the sofa where you were sitting, dropping her head on your shoulder.

“It is said Aberama and grandma will bring us with them on the road, is it true?” Your fourteen years old girl knew how to make a deal, she exchanged a look with Polly and straightened her head, looking right at you.

“Are you sure it’s Polly’s idea, it sounds more like you’re taking her as a hostage, Beth?”

“It’s called bargain! You always talk about grandma Pol being a gypsy queen, I want to see her world!” Beth’s high pitched tone resonated in the room, even the cat woke up from its nap to see what was happening.

“No need to put yourself in such condition, of course, you can all go with them. It’s your family.” You took your little girl in your arms, holding her close as fondling her long hair.

(...)

It was already 5 and you began to pace up and down before the carriage. It was your horse exhaling noisily that made you look up to him and caress his forehead while murmuring things to him. Basically telling him your day.

You didn’t realize but Tom had arrived, and a smile automatically drew on his lips when he saw you talking to your horse. It was as if he rewind the time and you were back to 1911 in your father’s stable with your long muddy dress and hay all over your mane.

He got close quickly and you startled when feeling his rough black gloves grabbing your elbow. “Shit, Tommy.”

He cleared his throat while looking at the horizon. A smile grew at the corner of your lips seeing how handsome he was, his hat on his head with his large black coat, a cigarette in between his lips. This handsome husband, father and gangster was all yours.

“Come up there! We’re going,” you pointed at the sitting place.

(...)

It has been half an hour since you departed from the Arrow House and the silence between you two was peaceful. You knew Tommy will never admit it, but he somehow took a liking to your parties and dinners, because he wasn’t forced to do anything, to be anything.

He could just be the man smoking cigarettes at the back of the room or the one drinking silently while sitting from the beginning of the event to its end. He could be alone, while not quite being alone.

You noticed he needed to be alone to think about his business, and as soon as he started to go walk alone in the woods at night, you started to organise garden parties.

Thomas didn’t need to be fully alone, he just needed people not to disturb him. And with such huge parties that was what you offered him. He didn’t need to sleep all night long outside now.

He could just sit at a table in the garden and smoke while sipping on his whiskey.

You finally stop the horse in a huge field, right under an imposing tree. It was probably a hundred years old, his trunk as solid as a rock, or maybe even stronger...

Tommy got up in the carriage, looking both sides to see if he knew the place before he got down, feet on earth.

You turned to him, a smile on your face, “Do you remember?” Your voice was low. He looked down at you, a curious gleam animating his blue iris.

“There!” you told him, pointing at the tree.

You saw in his expression he indeed remembered this place, and it was enough to warm your heart. You got up and joined the back of the carriage, taking the plates you had cooked for the occasion.

When you got back, his eyes directly went into yours, as if he had been searching for you. “Yes?” You raised a brow.

“It’s your family’s field.” His deep voice made you shiver, or maybe it was the cold spring breeze?

The old farm was still present not too far from where you were, but there were no animals left.

Your eyes lifted to him in an instant, his face was serene, his mind elsewhere, surely in the tone of memories of another time. Where all you used to worry about was the size of your stables once you’ll be married to Tom.

You served him a dish of his favourite food before handing it to him which he gladly took after sitting comfortably at the feet of the huge tree, his back against the tree.

“Don’t forget the bread.” You let out pointing to the bag next to him.

You finally sit down next to him and lift your gaze to the branch of the tree. The wind was present, but not in an annoying way, in a reassuring way. It was as if he was the one singing memories of before the War to both of you.

You raised your hand to the sky and it quickly got reached by Tommy’s that rubbed his thumb onto your skin.

You authorized yourself to dive into his eyes only to find your Tommy. The same one that was seated under the same three years and years ago. The Tommy that always used to make jokes, the one that asked your father for your hand, the one that always helped your mother with her horses.

It was something you would never get tired of, horses. It was the one thing always keeping you close to the man he once was, not that you missed that man, but you cherished the fact you had such memories of him. He was so different now…

“Happy Birthday, Tommy.” You muttered outright while dropping the back of your head against his chest, looking at his face from under.

He inhales deeply before exhaling loudly. And it was you, that sealed your lips together, bearing your love to him.

#Hubby!Tommy shelby #husband tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

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

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

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

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

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

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

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

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

March: the arrival,

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

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

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He crossed his arms over his chest.

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

“Are you only with me for sex?”

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

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

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

“No, I’m putting my foot down.”

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

“Too,” he repeated firmly. “Too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is exactly what I want to hear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

“May I ask what for?”

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

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

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

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

“Ransom!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He abruptly threw you up over his shoulder.

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

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

“You’re such an ass! I have to—”

He silenced you by pulling off his T-shirt.

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

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

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

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

“You are not serious.”

“I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted. “You have money?”

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

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

He sighed. “Y/N, suck my cock.”

You shrugged. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right, I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

“I’m not joking.”

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

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

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

He smirked. “I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ride me,” he ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Say what?” you choked out.

“You know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” he said softly.

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

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

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

He shrugged his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “I promise, I will not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

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

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

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

“He’s in the kitchen,” Joni informed.

“Great, we can head that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lifted your eyebrows at Ransom.

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

You turned to her. “Are you—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meg, can we have a minute?”

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

“Um,” she started, shifting awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey—”

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

“She’s my mom—”

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

“That’s not why I had sex with you—”

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

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

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

“I didn’t lie—”

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

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go to the store.”

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

“Can we talk about this later?”

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

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

April: the parents’ bedroom,

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

Not the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Ransom?”

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

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

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

“Just a headache. Not a big deal.”

“Not trying to be an ass—”

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

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want to talk much either.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

“Yes, great cover. So convincing.”

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

You lifted your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

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

“You made me sleep without you—!”

“That was not what you think!”

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

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

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

He rolled his eyes. “Doubt that.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell?” you demanded.

“This fight is over.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

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

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

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

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“You went behind my back, Ransom.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

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

“This is your fucking home!”

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

“She apologized!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed.

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

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

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

He threw his arms up. “For what?!”

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

“She would have known that I told you.”

“And?!”

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

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

“No, you’re not!”

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

“You love me!”

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

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

“You are tearing them, you ass!”

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

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered.

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

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

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

“I changed the sheets this morning.”

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

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

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

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“None of your business.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

You blinked once, twice. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “Eww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

He pushed his third finger as slowly as he could.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yourself,” he told you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think you deserve it, baby?”

“Please make me come,” you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May: the anniversary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffed. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Ransom.”

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

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

“Right?”

“You talking about your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom,” you warned.

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

“Maybe she did.”

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

“She’s not blackmailing him.”

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

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

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

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

“What? Were you expecting something else?”

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

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

“No, it wouldn’t,” you argued.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am,” you declared.

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

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

“So, you’re saying I seduced you?”

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

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

“A bit,” you admitted.

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

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

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

June: the affair,

Until June rolled around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell happened?” Ransom demanded.

You glared at him. “Where were you?”

“I was out for a walk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August: the book,

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

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

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

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

Did he ever love you?

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

Did you let this happen?

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

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

What did that mean?

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

Nothing. Everything was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

“What? What do you need?”

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Are you out of your mind?!”

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

“I’m not cheating on you!”

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

He paused at that.

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

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

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

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

“You are crazy,” he asserted.

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

You dove forward, just inches from the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let it go!” you shrieked.

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

“Not anymore, cheater!”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you!”

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

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

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

“Because I hate my family,” he reminded.

“And clearly, you hate me!”

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

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

“I’m not cheating!”

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

“I am not cheating!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“I’m writing a book!” he hissed.

You froze. He was what?

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

“Get off me.”

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

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

A book?

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

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

You held the laptop out to him.

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

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

“I have to go get Jacob’s cake.”

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

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

October: Ransom’s birthday,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

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

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

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

“I know…I was going to.”

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

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

“Others? What are you talking about?”

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

“Okay…what’s the series about?”

“A woman.”

You narrowed your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“God, Ransom, I was really hurt.”

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

“Well, can I read some of it?”

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

“I saw dating apps, Ransom.”

“After we talked about my parents—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re getting closer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your cheek to prevent a smile.

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

You hummed.

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

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

“He loves her skin,” he asserted.

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

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

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

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

“You wrote that?” you breathed.

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

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

“Well, mine have sex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom, please—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed. “But she kills him?”

“Well, she’s a complex woman.”

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

He arched an eyebrow.

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

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

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

“Does she love him?” you wondered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “He thinks so.”

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

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

“But does he?” you pressed.

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

“Are you fucking serious!?”

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

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

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

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

November: thanksgiving,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glared.

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

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

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

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

“I have a charity picked,” Jacob informed.

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

“Can’t I pick my own?” he pressed.

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

“Yeah,” Walt echoed. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“And we’re back,” Richard muttered.

Donna’s head snapped in his direction.

“Okay,” you interjected. “Joni?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, mine is—”

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

“Linda, please,” Richard sighed.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, shut up!” Linda barked.

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

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

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

Linda’s mouth dropped.

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

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

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

You smiled at Ransom. “You are perfect.”

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

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

You glanced at Ransom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You asked if it was a good idea.”

“I think it is.”

“Then why did you ask me at all?”

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

“We are not getting Jacob a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate dogs.”

“Well, I hate you,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three? For what?”

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

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

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

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

“That is normal flour, Ransom.”

“No,” he argued. “No, it’s not.”

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

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

“You could have ordered them!”

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

“Ransom, make the pie crusts!”

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

“What does toss mean?”

“What?”

“It says to toss the ingredients.”

“Um, like, stir, I guess.”

“You guess or you know?”

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

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

You turned back, eyes wide. “Ransom!”

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

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

“I don’t like touching butter!”

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

“I’m not touching it,” he claimed.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to cut them?”

“And peel them.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“Ransom, I’m about to smack you.”

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

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

“And you’re going to cook alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not!”

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

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

“You’re ruining it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, just stay down,” Jacob said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stole my house!” she screeched.

“Linda!” Richard scolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He held his hand up to you. “Don’t.”

“But—”

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

“I…threw a cookie at her.”

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

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

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

“What did we gain, Ransom?”

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

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else?”

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

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

“That was exactly what I was thinking.”

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

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

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

“Is everyone okay?”

“They’ll live.”

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

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

“We kinda ruined Thanksgiving dinner.”

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

“All three?”

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

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

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

You laughed. “Your family is insane.”

“And clearly, you fit right in.”

“Clearly,” you muttered. Unfortunately.

Christmas Eve:

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

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

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

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

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

“Are your fucking hands broken?!”

“I’m holding the box!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t want them here!”

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

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

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

He glared. “I hate you.”

“I hate you!” you seethed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

“What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are such a fucking brat.”

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

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

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

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

“What the hell does that mean?”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know!” he admitted.

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

He laughed.

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

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

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

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

“The courthouse?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why call when you could Facetime?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. You!” you growled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Say yes.”

“No.”

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you.”

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

From outside, the dogs started to bark.

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

He pulled out and rushed from the bathroom.

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

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

“Ransom?”

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

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

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got me more puppies?” Linda inquired.

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

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

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

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

He turned to you with a sigh.

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

“It’s okay,” he assured.

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

“What?” Joni cut in.

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

“Wife?” Linda repeated.

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

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

Ransom rolled his eyes.

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

“Which one is ours?” you wondered.

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

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

“The pound, obviously.”

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

Once again, the room echoed with disgusted sounds.

“Which one’s mine?” Meg wondered.

“I couldn’t care less,” he admitted.

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

Ransom gave you an expectant look.

“I love you?” you tried.

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

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

chris tags:

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

ransom tags:

@la-cey

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

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babytortie · 3 years

Text

unexpected

unexpected. ❘ stanley uris x reader.

a/n: this was requested by anon - love ur recent stanley fic! was wondering if you’re cool with doing a smut for him? (aged up of course!) if you’re comfortable, could you make the reader more dominant in bed/stanley being more submissive? perhaps and enemies to lovers, hate sex type. other than that, any plot line is just fine.

* hope this lives up to your expectations! tyty for requesting this one.

summary: in which stanley and reader argue worse than richie runs his trashmouth. after burning some pent-up tension one day, the two take a turn for the better and become more than just enemies.

warnings: s m u t. some fluff at end. <3

contains: enemies to lovers, degrading, hair tugging, harsh kisses w/ slight blood, mild orgasm denial, praises, rough and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are 18+ in this one-shot.

~ 3.4k words.

you twirled a strand of hair between your fingers, a magazine placed on your lap, and beverly's head rested on your shoulder, looking at the pages with you.

it was the summer and the group was all back home on break from college. the loser's wanted to hang out and all eight of you were at bill's house right now. on various couch cushions and seats in the living room. his parents were away for the night and the seven brought clothes to stay at his just in case it got a bit late.

"oh, do you think he's hotter? or him?" bev asked, leaning in closer to point at the page. it was some magazine about the hottest actors of the year, achievement wise. though some hot men that were in it was currently grabbing beverly's, well, and your attention too. you glanced down at the page, slightly comparing both actors and voiced, "definitely him."

the guys overheard this and rolled their eyes. they were taking turns playing on bill’s newest nintendo sixty-four. on the floor below you, sat the four a few feet away, this was because they wanted to be scooted closer to the television. even though it was perfectly fine to put their backs against the couch. typical males.

you worried for their eyesight, especially richie’s, since right now he and bill were battling on some game you didn’t know the name of while being too close to the screen. eddie was on a chair next to the couch and sat by you, wheezing as he watched how close of a tie it was between them. mike and stanley were sitting on the floor with them on either side, cheering on who they wanted to win.

this was while ben sat on the other side of bev and read some book that just came out earlier this week. a quarter of ben’s focus was on his hand. it was resting on beverly’s thigh and drawing small, mindless shapes in content. the two were newly dating after pinning on each other for forever.

"i think we should play would you rather!" mike turned his head and suggested after hearing your conversation with the red head. bill had just died on the game causing richie to jump up and cheer while blowing out the other three's ear drums.

ben closed his book and sat up straighter. he took a glimpse over at beverly to see what her decision was. eddie hesitantly agreed when you and bev nodded. “s-sure!” bill got up and pulled stan with him.

one weekend about four years ago when the denbrough’s were home and bill had the group of losers over, they noticed how you all squished on the seats in the living room. surprising bill with an extra couch a month after this, they were able to successfully squeeze it into the room and push it against the other wall.

the four others started to pile on the other couch a few feet away from the three of you and eddie who still sat on the single chair next to you. beverly pulled her head up and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “be nice to stanley please.”

knowing it wasn’t funny, looking at her anyway with a confused expression, you lied. "stanley who?" she immediately turned her neck back at you, probably receiving some whiplash and raised an eyebrow to challenge you.

"i'm serious y/n." beverly laughed dryly. you sighed and replied a short agreeable response. “alright bev, as long as he doesn’t start it, then i won’t do anything.” after, you zipped your lips and threw an imaginary lock in the direction behind eddie.

she smiled at you in thanks and then you two turned towards the room, noticing everyone was ready. “b-being as it w-was mike’s id-dea, he can g-go first.” bill announced while glancing around the room.

mike nodded and turned to the one who still wore coke-bottle glasses years later. “richie, would you rather never wear underwear again or never wear socks again?”

ben and bill stifled a laugh, already knowing what his response was going to be. eddie rolled his eyes as richie answered, “underwear since i go commando sometimes anyway.”

you put your finger in your mouth, pretending that you were about to throw up and mike shook his head at richie. you turned to your right and left, seeing eddie’s and beverly’s disgusted faces.

”okay, eddie spaghetti.” he paused. the seven of you looked at eds, who had already put his hand over his face in annoyance. you and beverly laughed when the shorter boy muttered, “here we go.” richie smirked and continued. “would you rather, accidently send a nude to your boss or your parents? and by parents i mean your mom and i.”

he rolled his eyes, “absolutely not richie. my mom would never get with you and i would die of embarrassment if it were sonia. she’d probably kidnap and lock me in my old room, never to be seen again. probably boss.”

eddie turned to you after the group cackled of laughter, especially richie at the response he was given. the two of you currently shared a science class together in college and the asthmatic based some of his question off of this. "alright y/n, would u rather hook up with one of football players or with mr. jackson down at the science lab?”

you placed the palm of your hand on your cheek, into a thinking position and replied. "well, i kind of answered that question at last weekend’s party?" beverly jumped up at this and gasped. "no way! with which one?"

"i don’t kiss and tell." you smirked. the others gagged at that. “ah okay, i see. that’s where you went when we couldn’t find you again.” ben commented. stanley had been a bit quiet during the conversation and decided to speak up. adding to this, while looking at you pointedly. "you kind of just did tell and admitted at the fact that you sucked off some guy.”

you weren’t usually the type to get flustered during conversations like this. instead owning it as if you weren’t bothered. this helped you avoid any teasing or any richie’s usual jokes. "at least i'm getting some!" muttering in stanley’s direction.

"i swear if you guys argue for one more minute, i'm going to shoot myself. go y/n. it’s your turn." mike spoke up in between you and stanley, trying to get the game rolling again.

you smiled, feeling a little eager at the next question. you looked at the curly haired sitting across the room from you. the others groaned knowing you were about to pick on him in some kind of way. "uris. for the rest of your sex life, would you rather be the top or bottom?”

he blinked in your direction, probably wanting to smack you for the inappropriate question. “depends, is it with anyone specific?” you looked down sheepishly, then back up. is this a trick question? i mean sometimes you did find stanley a little bit too attractive. “do you want it to be?” deciding to quip back with equal attitude, you asked.

the group looked between the two of you while waiting for a response from uris. the tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. letting out a scoff in return, he looked at you in the eyes and glared. speaking in a low tone, you almost didn’t hear him. "uh, i don’t know.”

"what do you mean? you don’t know?" richie snickered.

bill, beverly, ben, and mike started to get the picture together. eddie figured it out just a second before them, when you burst out giggling. before you could stop from helping yourself, you let out a harsh jab. “oh shit, that explains why you’re always so uptight! maybe you should unbutton some of that polo? might help so you aren’t choking on all that innocence."

that only made matters worse, the last pin in place to set him off. stanley angrily spewed some words under his breath. only catching your name, you figured it was most likely something badly about you. quickly getting up from his spot, his curls bounced up and down when he rushed upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

the others watched him disappear from the top step sadly and looked back at you with the look. you had the decency to look a bit guilty, an awkward grimace on your face. "uh, why are you all looking at me like that?"

eddie leaned over to elbow you and gave his puppy dog eyes in pleading. you sighed but started getting up anyway. you laced your hands together in front of your stomach, nerves a bit jittery at being in a room alone with him. "well, to state my case we were all having that kind of discussion! if he wasn't such a prude..." you trailed off.

ben got up, patting your shoulder. "we all know this but stanley is sensitive about these kinds of things. go apologize while we're on break now and we’ll get some drinks going."

you nodded and turned back around, starting towards the stairs and walked up slowly. richie decided this was a good time to be the loud trashmouth that he is and shouted. "it was nice knowing you, y/n!"

shaking your head, you reached the last step and rounded the corner. hearing a slap noise, you assumed tozier was probably getting hit on the back of his head. a moment later a "beep beep" came from mike and you let out a small laugh in relief that they had your back against the loud mouth.

strolling down the hallway, you spotted the second guest bedroom door closed and decided to knock on it. stan heard a faint knock and got up from the bed to open it, seeing y/n he groaned. "oh, it's just you."

you ignored his disappointed comment and bit your lip. looking up and down to observe his new look. he must have just changed. wearing a regular light blue t-shirt and grey sweats. you shook your head and looked up to see his grin, catching you in the act of checking him out.

rolling your eyes in response, like he usually did and walking around him, you closed the bedroom door shut after stepping inside. you grabbed a handful of stanley’s shirt and pushed him against the back of the door. more like he allowed you to do this but you were definitely in control of the situation.

you leaned in towards him and swiped the back of your thumb over his bottom lip to test his reaction. when he didn’t swat your hand away, you went on the tip of your toes and brushed his lips against yours.

stanley gasped into your mouth and deciding to use this as an opportunity, you placed the tip of your tongue on the bottom of his lip. right before you could actually do this, he apparently read your mind and left his mouth open purposely. you wanted to slap him.

nonetheless, he allowed you total access. surprising him on purpose, you shoved your tongue in his mouth. wishfully thinking about how you wanted to somehow choke him with it. he grabbed both sides of your shoulders and scooted you closer, clashing his teeth with yours. not wanting to let up the control he tried to grab, you grasped the back of his neck tightly and felt light-headed. sensing wetness pooling between your thighs from enjoying this too much, you cursed to yourself.

a small moan escaped out from your lips and as if it was his fault, you nipped his bottom lip. you tried to quickly get rid the thought of ever giving into stanley uris. he hissed sharply, tasting slight blood from the nick. uris mumbled. "bitch."

this angered you more. pulling away from his lips, you put on a fake smile. moving in a bit closer to mess with the collar of his shirt, you tugged on it roughly, your face still close with his. "ready to not be a virgin anymore, virgin?" you retorted.

he smirked, "as long as i'm not one anymore, i don't care who it's with. even someone like you." he emphasized in a nasty tone. you pulled the shirt up over his head and uttered out. "shut the hell up." stan hummed happily after his shirt was pulled up to see that you were glaring from his reply. the two of you heard loud steps down the hall by the stairs, so you placed a finger over his mouth.

after a moment later, you heard what you assumed was someone in the bathroom, closing door the shut. letting out a breath not realizing you were holding it, stanley took this as a distraction to slip your finger into his mouth. you gasped, eyes widening, "what the hell!"

pulling your hand back, you spoke and stared in his eyes to let him know just how serious you were. "here's how it's going to go if you want to get laid, uris. we're doing this my way. don't play around anymore and definitely don’t talk too much so i can picture literally anyone other than you."

stanley looked into your eyes, searching for any hints of a lie from your remark. when he saw your eyes looking clearly back into his, he sighed in defeat. not letting it show, he grinned nastily. ”fine by me, y/l/n.”

"now, bird-boy are you sure you can handle this?" you stated more than questioned, an eyebrow quirked up. you held onto the top of his sweats with an eyebrow quirked up. he clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together so hard he hoped they wouldn't crack. "fuck you y/n."

“no, that’s what i’ll be doing to you.” disagreeing and putting your palm over him. “what do we have here?” you asked out loud, in general all snarky. he let out an annoyed noise when he felt you tease fingertips across his hard length. so, in retaliation, he grabbed your wrist and pushed the palm of your hand harder onto him.

you gasped at how big he was. you tried to cover the surprise, a ‘tsk, tsk’ falling from your lips. not letting go quickly enough stanley noticed this and smirked at you. frowning, you murmured. "ever heard of patience? such a bad boy."

uris let out a small, quiet groan from feeling your hands come off of him. which was something you caught and figured having teased him enough, you put your hands around the waistband of his pants. tugging them off along with his boxers. afterwards you pushed him down onto the bed and before he could do anything, you quickly made work of your shirt. pulling it over your head and unclipping your bra as well.

he put a hand through his curls, smoothing them out from the fall when he fell into the comforter. watching you, he could feel himself hardening painfully. he felt needy and done with the wait. pulling your wrist closer he pleaded. “come on, hurry. please y/n.”

”fine, you’ve waited long enough like a good little boy.” stanley flushed at your approving compliment and tried to hide it, looking down. you saw this when you moved to sit on top of him and smiled. grabbing his chin lightly, you tilted his head back up. while looking into his light brown eyes, you held his wrist and tugged his hand so it laid over on top your breast.

stanley’s breath hitched and you moved inwards toward his neck. your warm breath was touching his skin, feeling cheeks reddening more. uris felt, palmed, and squeezed a little as you sucked small hickeys on his neck. not to dark but enough to be just visible if one were close up.

kissing his cheek and tilting back up, he dropped his hand and you happened to see his cheeks and neck all red. the quick switch of his attitude still shocked you to the core. ”are you sorry for calling me a bad name, baby?” he ignored your comment like a brat and kissed the inside of your wrist. you melted a little in his touch before going back to the task at hand.

you slowly let out of his grasp to unbuckle the belt and unbutton your shorts. you shimmied out of them and wanting to hurry up, you just moved your panties to the side and out of the way. pumping him a few times, you started to align him to your center. before you moved down onto him, you placed your hand on his cheeks in a sweet gesture and silently asked for reassurance. he nodded and you slowly slid down into him, both of you letting out small moans. “feel so good.” you muttered.

stilled for a moment, you let yourself adjust to his length and him to the feel. your hips went back up and you moved in forward, kissing him again. it slowly turned into a sloppy make out when you slammed your hips back down again. his tongue shoved in your mouth when you gasped in pleasure. after you found a rhythm you babbled on and on about how stanley was doing so good for you.

"i need you to put your fingers on my clit and rub." you said softly but still in a demanding tone. directing his hand exactly where you wanted it, you nodded when he looked at you again. his fingers moved quickly, drawing out an orgasm that you felt nearing.

lacing your fingers through his curly hair. stanley let out a loud moan as you tugged the locks. "now for the sake of you being able to cum, i'm going to ask again. are you sorry my baby boy?" he really didn't want to have to see the satisfactory in your face if he apologized. though, after a small moment went by, he realized that you weren't joking.

he let out a small, almost incoherent whine. pleading you with his big hazel eyes, "i-i'm sorry y/n. so sorry, c-can i cum please?" stanley would have never thought he'd be the submissive type but he found himself melting at your praises, quite easily. he liked letting you have some control and for once being able to sit back.

you smirked at him and let go. patting his cheek in almost a mocking way. "awe such a good boy but i think you can wait another minute." his eyes widened and you placed your hands back up onto his chest, steadying your balance before moving your hips back up and down repeatedly and harshly against his. he moaned when you kept going back down on his cock. feeling his pelvis right up against your very sensitive bundle of nerves, you squirmed.

stanley smirked, feeling you tighten around him. knowing you were close was a relief. constantly feeling so good on him made him hard and straining inside of you. tears prickling in the back of his eyes and wanting to cum so badly was difficult. uris felt not wanting to disobey you was more important as he patiently waited. pushing harder on your clit is what caused you to unravel, tightening completely around him. "oh fuck! s-such a good boy. cum with me now."

he came so hard, the hardest ever. which wasn't much to go off on, from the obvious conversation before. feeling euphoria, you rode through your high and his, milking every last drop of cum. you started to feel shaky. before your hips gave out, you placed one last kiss on his slightly darkening hickey.

after you fell on the bed next to him, he pulled you close. you turned your head in his embrace, eyes widening. you knew without a doubt they looked like they were probably about to fall out of the sockets. assuming even bigger eyes then richie's usual ones due to his glasses.

uris pursed his lips, kissing the top of your forehead before he could overthink it. “we need to talk. y/n/n." you tried to open your mouth, but closed it again. stanley used your nickname, he has never used it before. you were in disbelief, frozen, and unable to say a word. he rescued you and spoke up again. "you know i don't hate you, right?"

you swallowed feeling like a brick was falling from your shoulders and nodded. "i don't hate you either stan. this is not what i was expecting though to make up." you giggled causing him to chime in. the awkwardness was finally settled but you paused and asked nervously. "do you think we're worse than eddie and richie?"

he shook his head, not even needing to think on it and responded sweetly. "no, we're okay now and i have a feeling that richie will tease eddie even after we're all dead."

you laughed together once more, agreeing with stan’s opinion which would probably be a proven fact one day. "that's true. poor eddie!" snuggling closer into his back and finally, truly feeling at peace.

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luminouspoes · 3 years

Note

For the ♛ prompts: 43 and/or 48, pretty please? 😊

prompt: “you’re lucky you’re cute”

warnings: fluff...lots and lots of fluff. no pronouns used for reader.

read on ao3 | drabble list

“There’s one thing I hate more than the First Order,” Poe murmurs as you both take in the scene before you: golden floors and walls, people dressed in gaudy outfits that you can’t begin to imagine how they got into, and the sound of slot machines running wild. “Places like this.”

You’re keen to agree as you tug self-consciously at your own outfit. It was a deep red suit and was the least flashy thing you could find to wear. It hugs you nicely, but you’d forgone the tie or ascot that was supposed to go with it and keep the top few buttons undone so you can breathe.

Meanwhile, beside you, Poe looks - well, not to borrow a page from Maz’s book, but he looks dashing. He’d dragged out the tux he’d worn to that party he’d crashed with Finn and Suralinda back while you were on Ryloth with the others. He looks good in it, but it’s also surreal to see him in something so fancy. You’ve known him for years, and seeing him out of a flight suit or his favored tunic and leather jackets is a mind-trip.

It’s not a bad different though, no....not at all -

You snap your gaze away from him, cheeks warm. It was an annoying different though. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but...all we gotta do is find the central terminal here, let me do my thing, and then we’re out.” You whisper back to him; another reason for your choice of outfit was the set of slicing tools you needed to hide. You couldn’t take BB-8 on the mission with you, he stood out too much and was too easily recognizable, but you weren’t one of the Resistance’s best hackers for nothing.

“Right,” Poe mutters, splaying his hand on the small of your back as you move through the crowd, “In and out.”

You try to focus on the fountain of champagne you pass, or the dazzling chandeliers or even the catchy song that the live band is playing, but instead all you can focus on is the warmth seeping in through the fabric of your suit as Poe continues to guide you along, not dropping his hand from your back.

It’s your own fault really. The only identification you and Connix had time to whip up for the mission was that of a married couple, so the closeness was necessary. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to lack personal space - Poe was a generally affectionate guy, and you enjoyed the attention - but there was something different about this. You were both away from the Resistance, looking like neither of you usually did, hiding behind guises that were married.

“Over there,” Poe’s voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning along the shell of your ear as he leans in to avoid being heard by anyone. You follow his line of sight and see a doorway just behind where the live band is playing. It isn’t guarded, but it’s going to be difficult to get in without being spotted by anyone - which would raise some questions.

Your gaze slides back over to Poe, eyes raking over his suit, and you remember your cover story. Or maybe it wouldn’t. You offer him your hand with a flourish, “Dance with me, love.”

Poe’s brow creases in confusion, so you shoot him a go with it expression, and he slowly takes your hand. You lead him to the dance floor, just in front of the stage the band is standing on, and turn to face him expectantly. When he doesn’t immediately move, you lean in and whisper, “You do know how to dance, right?”

He almost looks affronted, “Yes, I know how to dance, but -” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he finally settles his hands on your waist. He won’t meet your eyes, which is problematic for your plan, but you swear you see his cheeks darken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? “What is it that you’re thinking of because you’ve got that look on your face.”

You lean back in mock offense, “What look?”

His eyes finally meets yours and oh the way they make you melt: there’s so much softness in the way he’s regarding you, a light twinkling in those dark eyes that reminds you of starlight. “Like you’re about to drag me into trouble.”

“I do not drag you into trouble,” you protest as Poe finally relaxes a little and you begin to more than just sway to the music as the band revs up the tune. Within seconds, you’re circling each other, holding on by your fingertips, never breaking your gaze, “If anything, you drag me into trouble. It’s practically your thing. I don’t engage unless I’m provoked, y’know.”

You both step back into each other’s gravity. Poe’s eyelids are lowered as you stare up at him, chin up as you silently challenge him to argue the fact. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he tells you with a laugh. Your jaw goes slack but before you can say anything more, he’s twirling you away from him in time to the music.

When he pulls you back in, you’re not quite ready for it and you stumble into his chest. He catches you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. Maybe it’s because none of this feels real, but you fix him with a smirk, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you and I both know that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

“Are you saying I’m full of it?” You retort, smiling.

Poe shakes his head, looking heavenward. “What’re you thinking?”

You quickly relay your plan to Poe, chewing nervously on your bottom lip while he takes it in. After a long pause, he nods once, “Alright. If you’re sure about this.”

“I am,” you say, and something burns in the starlight in his eyes.

A few minutes later, the two of you are stumbling through the crowd, laughing and unable to keep each other’s hands off each other. His hand slips inside your jacket, pulling you flush as you walk back towards the door you need, and you begin to question if this really was a good idea because you’re finding it really hard to breathe and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest -

And then you’re out of view of the dance floor and Poe draws back immediately, leaving you feeling bereft. He looks breathless, but motions at the hallway in an ‘after you’ gesture. You nod shakily, heading off in the direction you assume the control terminal will be. Poe’s one step behind you the entire time, looking behind you every few seconds to make sure no one’s followed you.

The control room is at the end of the hall and the door’s locked. You whip out your set of tools from inside your coat and begin to work on fixing that. It’s so easy you don’t have to think about what you’re doing, muscle memory quickly taking over, and you can’t help but think back to what it was like to have Poe that close, to have been flirting easily with him on the dance floor…

The door slides open with a shick but you don’t put your tools away; you’ll need them to retrieve the data the Resistance needs. You step inside and are surprised to find the room empty. “One locked door is all these guys keep on this stuff?” Poe asks, entering behind you. “With all the credits they’re sitting on?”

You’re already set up at one of the terminals, searching for the records you need. “They probably weren’t expecting their records to get broken into, Poe. Most of their efforts would be centered on a vault...got it!” You quickly transfer the data into a chip and show it to Poe with a flourish, grinning widely. “What’d I say? In and out.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, offering his hand for you to take. “We’re not out of the woods yet, sweetheart. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Sweetheart?” You question as he leads you out of the room. He throws you a smile over his shoulder and counters with, “‘Love?’”

You start to reply but you crash into Poe’s back before you can, since he stops abruptly and you hear him mutter, “Dammit.” You can barely get a look around him to catch a glimpse at the approaching guard before he’s pushing you the opposite way, past the records room and further down into the twisting hallway.

Which, of course, leads to a dead end.

“Great,” you say, throwing your hands up. “Any other ideas?”

Poe looks around, but there aren’t any rooms around for you to hide inside. Then he goes still and slowly turns on his heel to face you, expression apologetic. “Just one, but you’re not gonna like it.”

You narrow your eyes, “What are you - oh,” you choke out when he very pointedly looks at your lips. You fix your mouth wordlessly a few times, but the growing noise of the guard’s footsteps snaps you out of your trance, “Do it.”

He crosses to you quickly, but as he moves into your space, Poe hesitates a little. Then, he’s cupping your jaw with one hand and the other is on your hip pulling you close, and his mouth meets yours.

You slide a hand around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He guides you backward til your back presses against a wall, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth. You respond by tugging lightly on his curls, which draws out a low hum from him that sends goosebumps along your arms. He squeezes your hip, fingertips meeting bare skin from where your button-up had ridden up from stretching up to meet him, as he aligns your bodies better together -

“Hey! This corridor’s off-limits, find somewhere else to do that.”

You break apart, but Poe doesn’t step back from you as he twists to nod at the guard, “Sorry, man. We’ll just finish this up back on our ship. C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is rough as he proffers you his hand. You take it, managing to fix the guard with what you hope is an apologetic smile.

As you dart around the corner, you hear the guard mutter something about lovebirds, but you do your best to ignore it, even though all you can focus on is how seconds ago, you were kissing your best friend - and how real it felt.

Without meeting his gaze, you say, “You were wrong, by the way. I did like it.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #myfic #ask box #nonnie nonnie #uhhhh i'm not use to writing fluff and i think this makes that obvious

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imagine-this-fandom · 3 years

Text

BNHA x Fem! Reader: The Rescue- Green Rabbit

The rescue intro: here

Inko started bustling about the store, gathering supplies, muttering excitedly as she went. You followed, confused, but intrigued. She seemed super focused on what she was doing. At some point during here mumbling and pacing, she had handed you izuku so she could grab a cage.

As she bustled about, you took this time to shower the adorable rabbit in your arms with affection. He seemed to love all the little touches, but he especially loved the strokes on his big fluffy ears. He was a relatively small rabbit, but what drew the eyes the most was his dark green fur. It almost looked like it had been dyed that color, maybe by a a previous owner. His eyes were also a dark green and he had speckles of black dots across his cheeks where his whiskers were, kind of like freckles, you noted. He seemed a little shy, but you could already see he was warming up to you a little. You smiled and ran your finger gently up and down the bridge of his nose while he relaxed in your arms.

Inko had stopped to face you while you were distracted and she had to take a moment. The two of you were so cute! She quickly snuck a photo before stepping into your field of vision with two bags holding the supplies you'd need.

"I see you're already starting to get to know each other. I knew I made the right choice!"

She beamed, nodding to the rabbit that had started to doze off in your arms.

"Wait, the pet for me, you meant Izuku here?"

You were a bit confused, but definitely pleasantly surprised. Who wouldn't want to take the sweet little guy home? Inko looked at you with a wide grin, nodding enthusiastically.

"He needs someone to look after him. He doesn't belong cooped up in a store."

You looked at the sleeping rabbit, fondness already starting to build up inside you. Sure this would be a change, but a welcome one to be sure. You were going to give this rabbit the best life you could!

"I'm happy to take him, Mrs. Midoriya. Thank you so much."

She grinned and gently took Izuku, placing him in a travel cage for you so that you could carry him home safely. After making sure you had everything, she said a quiet goodbye to the bunny and kissed the top of his head before handing off his carrier.

You were relieved to discover Izuku slept the whole walk home. Little man must have been tired! You gently set the carrier down and left it open while you got to work unpacking all the things that Mrs. Midoriya had packed for him. You were amused to discover a reoccurring theme with most of the supplies that were given. There was a lot of Allmight themed stuff. If it wasn't Allmight, it was themed to his suit colors. Guess Inko was a fan or something.

Setting things up went quickly, but the cage did give you some trouble. You elected to have the cage on the floor so Izuku had easy access to hop around. That being said, the cage instructions were confusing. Once you did finally have it set up, you were sweaty and tired, but triumphant. You gave a small whoop of victory before falling back from your sitting position and just resting on the floor to catch your breath. You closed your eye for a little bit, but were brought back to the present by a cold twitchy nose against your cheek. Opening your eyes, you saw that Izuku had woken up at some point and made his way over to you.

"Hey buddy, welcome to the world of the living. And also, welcome home. I know it's not that much to look at, but I hope you can enjoy it here."

You sat up and carefully scooped the bunny into your arms, cuddling the dark green bundle of fluff as you cooed to him about all the cool things Inko had given you for him.

"She even got you a little Allmight figurine to sit in your cage! Isn't that cool?"

He wiggled his nose in excitement, already excited to check it for accuracy, especially considering how big of a fan he was. You seemed to catch on to this quickly.

"You're a fan too, huh? Guess we're gonna get along."

You smiled and gently placed him in his cage, making sure he had everything he needed before heading to bed. He watched you settle down for a bit, pondering his new living situation and what would happen next.

*Time skip time*

While you were optimistic about the whole pet thing, you weren't expecting it go as well as it had been.

Izuku was an absolute angel. He was as well behaved as pets come. You made sure to spend time with him everyday, and coming home to hang out with him became the highlight of your day. He was always excited to see you and you could spend hours snuggling him. He seemed to appreciate the affection as well, hopping up to you whenever he decided pets were needed.

On the other hand, he was scary smart. Sometimes you entertained the thought that he could comprehend human words. Sometimes while you were reading with him in your lap, it seemed like he was reading the words on the page too, lost in concentration. You trained him to do tricks and he'd pick it up within an hour or two, just like that. He really liked you, and if doing the tricks made you happy, he was all for it.

Sometimes though, he would just kind of shut down. To you, it looked like he would stop moving and his nose would twitch in overdrive. Usually some new trick or obstacle triggered this frozen mode, so you were careful to make sure he wasn't anywhere he could hurt himself if he zoned out. He was really just analyzing, if he could speak, and endless torrent of words would be washing over you as he mumbled to himself with no end in sight, lost in thought. You found these moments strange, but after some research, you were reassured that it was just an oddity that made Izuku who he was. You decided it wasn't worth worrying about since it didn't seem to be hurting him.

He was always so well behaved while you were at work, that you just left his cage open during the day so he had free reign over the house. This led to him meeting you at the door after a particularly bad day at work. As the door opened, Izuku was quick to hop over, eager to see you again after the hours at work. He wasn't expecting you to walk past him with no greeting. You were beginning to concern him now. He watched you as you walked towards the couch, eyes glazed as thoughts swirled violently in your head. You sat down with a weariness he wasn't expecting and he made his way over to you quickly, determined to find out what was wrong.

You were brought out of your negative stupor by Izuku hopping up onto the couch beside you and putting a paw on your arm, eyes wide and nose twitching rapidly.

You gave a tired smile and pulled him into your arms, cradling him against your chest as you relaxed a little bit, his warm familiar body an escape from the awful day you had experienced.

He nuzzled against your cheek before tucking his head against where your neck met your shoulder, giving you the closest thing to a hug as he could manage. You let him settle there and started to hum quietly, gently running a finger down his back in a soothing repetitive motion.

"I'm sorry buddy, I didn't mean to worry you. It's just been a rough day is all." You tried to soothe the rabbit, sad that you had upset him with your behavior.

You sat back and closed your eyes, humming a lullaby tune as you focused on relaxing. You decided you were going to focus on Izuku. Nothing else mattered right now, just you and your bunny.

"People can be really mean Izuku. They're harsh and cruel and sometimes downright malicious. I hope you never have to meet one of those bad humans."

You groaned tiredly and stood, keeping Izuku pressed against you as you hummed quietly, rocking side to side. While it was your intention to calm him down, it was starting to work on you too.

After a little while of this, you put the now sleeping bunny away, tucking him into the bed you had gotten for him. You watched him for a moment longer before getting ready for bed. While this day was awful, you had never been more pleased that Izuku had come into your life. He always knew what to do to distract you and make you feel better. He reminded you that you weren't alone and that he would help support you in any way he could. He was in essence, your best friend, and you wouldn't forget that. And neither would he. If only you could see past the smart bunny and see the real him...

Izuku was a constant by your side after that day. He was always there to offer what support he could and ensure that you were doing well. He was determined to never let you get as upset as you had that day. He would be your hero and protect you, no matter what!

*Timeskip*

You smiled softly at your attentive pet and scooped him up to give him a kiss right between his fuzzy ears.

"Awww, don't be like that, hon. I'll be back soon. I just had to pick up an extra shift for a coworker, but I promise I'll come home right after, okay sweetheart?"

He reluctantly gave in, but he was in no way pleased with having less time with you. However, it's not like he could do anything once you had already committed. He decided he'd just support you as best as he could and enjoy the time when you came home that much more.

You set the green bunny on the floor after another quick squeeze before heading out the door. You hated leaving him, but you had promised to cover a shift for a coworker because they were having a family emergency. It shouldn't be too bad.

The shift actually went as you had hoped, and the guests were fairly well behaved. Even though you were dedicated to the task at hand, you couldn't help but be distracted. You felt awful that you had to leave Izuku alone after you had planned to binge Allmight videos with him. He actually had seemed really excited!

You were lost in your thoughts about how to make it up to your pet when you accidentally bumped into one of the guests, not noticing when he had started towards you. Luckily you were only holding a pitcher of water and had only splashed him as you ran into him.

You gasped in shock before looking at the dark, damp stain spreading over his shirt from where you had bumped into him.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" You looked around frantically, "I'll get some napkins!"

He stopped you, grabbing your wrist so you wouldn't run away.

"It's alright, it's just water. No harm done, cutie."

You looked up at him with wide eyes, red creeping over your cheeks as you met the eyes of one of the cutest guys you had ever seen. And he had just called you cutie. Brain was now malfunctioning.

"I-I'll get some napkins..."

You ducked out of his grip quickly and ran to the back, clutching the empty water pitcher to your chest as if you could keep your heart from escaping by putting an obstacle in its way. As you thought about what just happened, you put the pitcher down before groaning in frustrated embarrassment. Did that really just happen!?

After you had calmed down a bit, you went back to his table with a small stack of napkins to discover that he and his friends had paid and left. You set the napkins down, surprised that you were a little bit disappointed that he had left. That disappointment was gone the instant you noticed a slip of paper under the tip. In messy handwriting, was a phone number and the words.

"Go on a date with me and we'll call it even over the spill, cutie. ;)"

you quickly tucked the note away, an excited smile beginning to quirk your lips up. Today was actually going better than expected. you got back to work, flustered smile still in place as you thought about messaging him after work. You kept this excited air about you the rest of your shift and even had a small spring in your step on the way home. You were excited to tell Izuku all about it. You'd need your best friend there to support you when you gained the courage to talk to the mystery guy. You stopped at the store briefly to get apples as a treat for Izuku, wanting to make it up to him for taking an extra shift. Hopefully the sweet food would cheer him up.

As per your routine, Izuku met you at the door. He hopped around your ankles excitedly, tugging on your shoelaces to help you get them off faster.

You laughed and set the grocery bag down, taking off your shoes and then scooping up the green fur ball.

"Missed you too, honey bunny! Did you have a good day while I was out?"

Izuku nearly melted at the nickname. You were in a really good mood if you were using such sweet endearments! He nuzzled happily against your collarbone and then pressed a little nose kiss to your cheek. He puffed his fur out of happiness at the subsequent giggles that escaped your mouth at this gesture. He really loved that sound.

You settled on the couch with him, apples all but forgotten in your post greeting glee.

"Guess what?! I met someone today!" You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose up in embarrassment as you recalled what happened. If your eyes had been open, You'd have noticed the green rabbit freeze in shock at your words, ears going halfway back.

"He gave me his number after I totally made a fool of myself in front of him. Oh Izuku, you think I'm a klutz now, this was ten times worse! I spilled water all over his front! He was really nice about it though. When I came back to apologize again and help him clean up, he had already left. But... he left me his number and he asked for a date! Can you believe it?!"

You absentmindedly stroked the bunny while you recounted your shift to the stunned bunny. He was in freeze mode again, nose twitching a mile a minute as he processed what you said.

He would have frowned to himself if he could, not pleased with this turn of events. He wanted you to be happy, and he admitted to himself that he adored seeing you like this, but... He didn't like the fact that you were so excited about a guy. There was a little bit of him that was as green with jealousy as his fur. You were his friend, his (y/n), not this random guy who didn't even know you. He reasoned with himself that he shouldn't be so upset with you. It wasn't your fault you couldn't see the real him. The human him. But still, he couldn't help the zing of hurt that rushed through him when you told him about the encounter.

He was lost in thought, hyper analyzing every detail of the story you gave him, trying to judge this man who thought he was worthy of you. Meanwhile, you had started texting, your giggles bringing Izuku out of his destressed thoughts.

"He's really smooth, Izuku. Woah..." You wiggled excitedly in your seat as you texted back and forth with him, setting up the date he had asked for.

"We're going to the movies tomorrow after dinner at a restaurant nearby! Romantic, right?"

You laughed at the rabbit's less than enthusiastic response to your excitement.

"Awww, Izuku, it'll be okay. You still have my heart."

He couldn't stay upset at you, especially when you looked at him like that... He nudged his head under your hand and you happily obliged his request and pet him, fingers rubbing the tips of his velveteen ears.

"You stay right here and I'll get you some apples, okay honey? A peace offering for getting caught up with work and crushes. For the rest of today you get my full undivided attention!"

He watched you go prepare the treat, gaze soft as he followed your happy movements. This situation wasn't ideal, but he couldn't bare to do anything to sabotage this. You deserved to be happy and he wasn't going to stand in the way of that. But he was absolutely going to take advantage of your promise to hang out with him. He was determined to make every moment count and a small selfish part of him hoped that if you spent time with him, you wouldn't feel the need to go on the date after all. But he pushed that thought down and resolved to be the best bunny ever and support you in whatever you chose to do.

The night passed too quickly for Izuku's tastes. You had stayed up with him watching Allmight videos and munching on apple slices. You had Izuku tucked into your lap the entire evening as you gushed to him about the hero and cheered when he inevitably won. The rabbit wished that the situation was different. He'd give just about anything to be human right now. He'd cheer with you and get to tell you all about the different videos and what happened. He'd hold your hand when there were scary villains on screen and tell you their weaknesses, determined to reassure you that any villain could be beaten, and he would tell you about all the villains he had fought and won against. Oh if only he weren't a rabbit anymore. But alas, he enjoyed the time as much as he could, pushing thoughts of tomorrow from his mind as if that act alone could stop it from coming.

You fell asleep in the couch sometime around 1 AM. Izuku watched you fondly for a bit before hopping over to the remote and turning off the tv. He then dragged the blanket off the back of the couch and worked to painstakingly pull it over you, making sure it covered you completely before he was satisfied. He pressed his nose against your cheek in a goodnight kiss and settled against your neck, his own eyes drooping tiredly.

The next morning was business as usual for the most part. You fixed Izuku his food of hay and fresh veggies before focusing on your own needs. You were determined that the date would go well. Even though you were hyper focused on your impending dinner date, you couldn't help but noticed that Izuku was off today. He was more reserved than usual and seemed to be pushing his food around more than eating it. You were obviously concerned. This wasn't like your sweet honey bunny. He never gave you much trouble, so you vowed to keep an eye on the little guy to make sure he was okay. You kept this in mind as the day progressed, but couldn't help but worry about him. He always perked right back up when you were giving him attention and affection, but he was droopy otherwise.

"Hey buddy... You feeling okay? "

You held him up, eyes level with his, searching for some sign from him.

"You've been acting funny all day... you're making me worried, honey. Do I need to take you to the vet?"

Izuku was ashamed of himself and leaned forward, touching his nose to yours in a silent apology. Sure he was upset you were going out, but he never meant to worry you! He hated seeing you so concerned, and the thought that he caused it tied his stomach in knots. This moping wasn't very hero like! He resolved then to do his best to act normal for your sake. After all, he was a hero, and he wasn't going to let you worry about him because of his own problems!

You scrunched up your nose happily at the contact and kissed the top of his head.

"There's my sweet boy! Love you lots!"

You hummed and carried him as you started to get ready before setting him on your bed so you could change. You laughed as he turned around once you had picked out a cute (f/c) sundress to wear.

"What a little gentleman!"

You shook your head in amusement and changed quickly before hopping onto the bed next to him.

"What do you think, Honey? Think he'll like it?"

Izuku just stared at you with wide eyes. He'd never seen that dress on you before. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit he thought it looked stunning on you. He dipped his head in a nod to answer your question. Any man would be stupid to not like that dress on you, he thought to himself.

"A charmer is what you are, Izuku." You gave a big grin and took him to the bathroom with you, setting him on the counter as you set about putting make up on. Telling your companion all about the text conversation you'd been having with the man. He learned many things from this. For example, the man was named Haru. Haru was a shameless flirt and seemed to take delight in sending you messages that caused a blush to form on your face as well as a flustered smile.

As much as Izuku wanted to ignore all these new pieces of information, he also desperately wanted to know more. Each new piece of information gave him a clearer image of the man who thought that he was good enough for Izuku's (y/n). He wasn't impressed, but he knew he couldn't let you know of his feelings. He had to be a good rabbit and support you. He didn't want to hold you back from something that made you happy, so he just watched and listened with a heavy heart.

You were buzzing with excitement as you got ready to leave the house, promising Izuku all the details and all the cuddles when you got home. As soon as you walked out the door, he deflated, no longer concerned with worrying you. He wrestled with his thoughts as he hopped in a pacing motion. He was torn. On one hand, he hoped it went really well so you could be happy.... But on the other hand, he kind of hoped it was just kind of meh so that he could have you back to himself. He was immediately ashamed of the latter thought, but he couldn't help but quietly yearn for the second option. He decided he would just take a nap to stop his mind from going back and forth. He was starting to get overwhelmed as he thought of all the ways the date could go. His stomach twisted at all the thoughts of how the date could go well....

He shook his head of these thoughts and the jealousy that accompanied them. He made his way to your bed and tucked himself on your pillow, instantly soothed by the scent of your shampoo on the pillowcase. He settled down to wait, closing his eyes and focusing on sleep so his mind didn't run away with him again.

He was successful for a few hours, but he awoke in the dark to a sound that instantly sent him on the alert. It was crying. It was you crying. He didn't hesitate when he saw your form in the doorway to your bedroom. He ran to the lamp on your bedside table and switched it on with a tap. The sight that met him absolutely broke his heart.

There were tears staining your face, makeup slightly smeared from the salty sadness. Your shoulders were shaking with quiet cries as you hugged your middle. You blinked in surprise when the lights came on, hoping to just get to bed and cry in the comfort of your covers. But Izuku wasn't going to let that happen. Your lips twitched into a wobbly smile for a second as you saw your little green rabbit waiting for you. What a smart boy to turn on the light. The way he looked so concerned wiped the short lived smile from your face as you sat on the bed next to him, strangled cries starting to escape.

In a flash, Izuku was in your arms, little paws on your cheeks as he desperately tried to comfort you. Unfortunately, this just made you cry harder, gasping sobs shaking your frame. You hugged him tight to you, burying your face against his side. He made chirping noises, frantically trying to console you. He had never cried in this form, but he could feel the tears welling as he heard the sounds escaping you and felt your shuddering against him. He thumped his foot, anxious to find a way to console you. he had never wanted to be human again more than this moment.

He would have taken you into his arms and held you close, cupped your cheeks and kissed every one of those tears away. He would make you feel safe and loved in his arms. He had never wanted anything more.

You sat and sobbed for a good hour, cries turning to hiccups before slowly fading to the occasional sniffle and silent tear. Holding Izuku and petting him had calmed you down. You fell asleep like that, holding izuku close to your chest as your breath slowly evened out. It didn't take long for Izuku to fall asleep as well.

If either of you had been conscious, you would have heard the pop sound that filled your room.

The morning came with no care for what had transpired last night. The sun's beams creeping over your bed until the light had filled your room with its warm glow. You started to wake up and the aftermath of the night before hit you slowly. You didn't want to move. Your head felt like it was full of cotton and your throat was dry and raw from crying. Even though you probably could do with some water, You were comfy where you were. Your pillow was warm and inviting and had such a soothing thumping rhythm to it. And there was such a comforting weight over your waist. These thoughts were slow, but they slowly started to raise signs of urgency in your mind as you woke up more and more. You became aware of a warm breeze on your forehead that came at regular intervals. That wasn't normal.

You pried your eyes open slowly, trying to process what was in front of you. Your mind jolted into wakefulness when you realized what you were looking at. You were currently staring at the chest of a man. A man who had his arm around your waist and his chin tucked against your head as you slept.

You jolted backwards with a force of panic that sent you tumbling out of bed with a clatter as your legs got tangled in the sheets. You let out a yelp as you hit the floor that woke him up.

Izuku looked down at you from the bed, concern shining in his dark eyes. While you just gaped at him in shock.

"Are you okay? That looked like a hard fall.."

You blinked. You were taken aback by the gentle and caring voice that came from the man. Due to your new perspective, you were able to take in more of him than the glimpse of collar bone and neck that you had so gracefully yote yourself away from. He had scars crisscrossing his hands and arms. He had Dark green fluffy unkempt hair. You couldn't help but note how cute his freckles were before your eyes drifted and you came to the embarrassing revelation that he was naked.

A blush covered your face and you slammed your eyes shut and looked away.

"(y/n) are you okay? " He repeated the question, his tone soft in order to keep you calm.

Your eyes popped open and you gaped at him once more.

"Who are you, how do you know my name?!"

He gave a small chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, it's not going to sound very believable, but it's me, Izuku." He seemed to get shy for a second before looking at you with eyes that were so filled with fondness it stole your breath for a second.

"You know, your honey bunny?" He blushed at his own words, and looked at you shyly, gauging your reaction.

It took a moment to process for you. Your pet rabbit... was now a man. A very attractive man. Now that he said it, your mind couldn't help but jump to the similarities. And he mentioned your nickname, which you had never shared with anybody. You bit your lip before shakily getting up and sitting next to him on the bed as he watched you carefully. You gently cupped his cheeks, peering closely at him as you mentally confirmed his story. A smile started to spread across your face.

"It really is you... But, how?"

He leaned into your hands, closing his eyes at your gentle touch, putting his own hands over yours to keep them in place.

"It was a battle with some sort of shapeshift quirk user. I was with a group of other heroes on a mission to recover a dangerous quirk enhancing drug. The villain panicked and unleashed a cloud that was boosted by the drug. We were caught in it and it transformed us into animals."

You listened to his story with increasing concern. This man, Izuku....he had a life before he was your rabbit.

"When the fog cleared, the villain was gone and all the heroes involved were in some sort of animal state. There was a really big cover up to keep us safe and not panic the citizens, so we were a secret while they tried to reverse the effect on us. To be honest, I had kind of lost hope."

He gave you a beautiful smile as his eyes locked on yours.

"But you... You set me free somehow."

His expression turned thoughtful and he started mumbling to himself. Something about the will to be human being the strongest it's ever been and something about willpower and its affect on quirks. You quickly recognized this as the frozen state he would get into as a rabbit.

"Silly man, always overthinking." You grinned and turned his attention back to you with a quick peck to his lips.

He froze for real this time as he processed what just happened. A big grin spread over his face before he leaned forward, placing a shy kiss on your lips in return for the one you had given him.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against your own, eyes dancing with happiness.

"I've wanted to do that for a while, (y/n). I hope you know that I'm going to be here for you, okay? I'll be your hero and never make you cry."

You smiled widely and kissed him again, giving him all the confirmation he needed that you felt the same.

#izuku x reader #izuku #bnha midoriya #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #deku #deku x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #deku midoriya #reader insert #x reader

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voidcat · 3 years

Text

— Seijoh 4 & dom!reader

a/n: this is legit my first time writing nsfw so yea b kind pls. I was getting tired of sub!reader stuff and I’m not the most sexual person but yea have a lil dom!reader w the boys,,, as a treat,, I’d also like you all to know that Nicole enabled this... thanks for supporting the sad horn knee hours wife<3

mostly gender neutral reader but i just realized i used nicknames “miss/mistress” few times so yea

Hanamaki Takahiro:

Oh boy is he excited!.. the moment this slips out of your mouth, he is fuming, vibrating from where he’s sitting and can’t wait to get home.

He is always open to try new things. Back in the day you two tried a thing or two but you were unsure how he’d act so you downplayed often... but now that knowing you’re a dom, the things you can do with the trust you share, shit, did it get hot in here?

On random days, he’ll just go “hey babe what do you think of this?” And show you a page of strap ons, for you to choose. some days he’ll practically beg to be pegged. he loves your demanour when you’re in charge, the air within you when you’re the one in control is, comforting but each night a new adventure and he just can’t get enough of it, of you.

Probably the two of you start with a basic list of things to try and see what he is into. When it comes to spanking, you warn beforehand again and say you’ll do it only once. Holding back yourself and smacking him as lightly as you can, you watch his face for any changes. The moment your hand makes contact with his skin, he lets out a “yelp!” and you stop right there, growing worried. Instead of a face in pain, teeth clenched and brows furrowed; he has the most satisfied and flushed face, eyes half closed and glossy and mouth slightly open. “Do it again babe, but harder this time? Please?”

He probably gets on your nerves on purpose & loves it when you call him a brat or your good boy. Some days he’ll just call you to hang out at his place and when you arrive, you find him spread on the bed, touching himself, his eyes on your figure, staring right into your eyes “hope I haven’t disobeyed or crossed any lines Miss” (he’ll be pissing you off on purpose during your movie nights and let you teach him a lesson right on the couch, the counter or the table...)

Def calls you praises and names (especially titles, telling you over and over how much he loves and enjoys you, how he loves to be drowned in your presence, begging you for anything, even the tiniest bit of a kiss.

He likes to shower together after a long night and wash each other’s hair, gently massaging your scalp and placing kisses all over your shoulders and the top of your head; whereas you gently kiss the places you’ve bitten and bruised, smothering his face with kisses.

Oikawa Tooru

This boy here, loves to act tough and all but let’s face it, he is a switch. It’s a typical Never Have I Ever game and at one point bedroom talk enters the game. He takes notes of the things you drink to, curious and you swear you catch a spark of excitement when you make it plainly obvious you’re a dom. Although that spark leaves as fast as it has appeared and you brush it off as a play of light.

That night when you return home, he practically jumps at you, a little rougher than usual and you’re sure why. Letting him pin you to the wall, hands roaming your body greedily, you let him live out the fantasy. The kisses now rough, one minute his lips on yours, the next on your neck, shoulders, collarbones... desperate to sink his teeth in and leave some marks. You think to yourself, that’s enough.

Next thing Oikawa knows, he is the one pinned to the wall, his wrists pinned above his head. With your unoccupied hand, you graze your finger lightly on his figure, jaw, neck and chest. “Someone is feisty.” he won’t tell at first but definitely got a thing for being marked and marking, and honestly? you don’t need him to tell you that.

orgasm denial!!! lots of it!! first two times you take pity on him and let him but the third time? the smug bastard is so sure you will let him come again but surprise!, as soon as you come, you leave him high and dry. he tries solving the issue by himself (which only makes things worse) after like 5 days of no orgasm on his part, he finally gets the clue, is on his... better behaviour; once you allow him to come, the days long of wait is worth the pleasure but he learns not to test you like this again. (however, this won’t stop him from disobeying you few more times just to get you to be rougher)

public teasing!! pda is already a given but you guys use remote controlled toys some days (usually you have the remote and he is the one who does his best to keep quiet) the driving and being near the edge of his climax is painful but he manages to hold himself until you two return home (or find a safe place to take care of it) and the endless wait and your cruel play with the toy’s settings is worth the wait. oikawa shivers every single time.

besides these, he likes to dress up and put on make up. and he is quite picky when it comes to lingerie the two of you wear, he checks the fabric qualities and colors beforehand, after all you only deserve the best of the best. he’ll be picking palettes to compliment your features best, loves using highlighter and always picks a dark shade of lipstick for each other; just to see how many times you’ll have to reapply until you’re both covered in its colors.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Ok so I know he has the brute facade going and everyone thinks he’s a dom but hear me out: actually quite soft switch/sub-leaning iwachan

Its a night out w the gang and during a drinking game oikawa makes a snark at you being such a dom in the streets AND in bed. to this blood rushes to Iwa’s cheeks and not many pay attention to it, bc he gets blushy easily plus he has been drinking too. but his mind? Oh he’s for sure imagining scenarios on what you could do to him.

Orgasm denial isn’t much of a thing because he’s very obedient. he’ll do his best to please you and follow your each and every word, watch your lips to hear your next words. for him, your word is law at this point... it’s almost impossible to deny him or those puppy eyes and those sweaty arms anything. He will call you ma’am, mistress, your highness, my goddess... whatever you wish and do not wish for. He loves praising you and ramble about how perfect and holy, etheral and magnificent you are.

lowkey into being tyed up, handcuffed and/or bondage. absolutely loves seeing you in full control. some days you won’t even bother to get undressed while he’s squirming under your touch fully stripped, begging for the tiniest bit of release. sometimes you’ll do the smallest gesture of taking control and he’ll be drooling, not even joking, this man LOVES IT when u take the ropes into ur hands (both metaphorically and literally) loves to lose control and wait for you to do whatever your heart desires, he wants to be what you desire.

(lowkey got a “corruption kink” too) when you two decide to shake things up a bit one day, you bring up some games, activities and kinks (mostly stuff he has only heard of) and, and he’s hard on the spot. lowkey into you wearing leather and gagging him up, his hands tied. he doesn’t mind blindfolds but watching you is so breathtaking, he even does his best to blink as little as possible. he loves it when you ride him to the point of orgasming for the 6th time that day, he’s ready to do anything for you, be your good boy and please you til world’s end.

very very good at oral too, his arms arent the only muscles he’s good at using, he loves your taste, your fingers in his mouth, his fingers in your mouth and in you. feeling your warmth however you want is enough to be content.

not something you do often but having sex in front of the mirror, seeing you in different angles drives him crazy, watching you covered in sweat, shining, panting, telling him how good you are is enough to make him drunk. but still he prefers to be chest to chest, you in his lap, riding him as he holds you to his chest, feeling your skin against his, burning with each move, rubbing against each other.

Matsukawa Issei

of all his relationships and hookups, Issei always encountered subs. few times his partners were doms, they were still submessive to him so when he finds out realizes you’re a dom, needless to say, he’s intrigued...

it kinda starts off with sex in front of a mirror one night, your back pressed against his chest, you’re riding him as his face buried in yourneck and his hands howering over you and suddenly, you grab his hands and out them at his sides, hold his chin and make him look at the mirror: “now watch hoe good i’ll be fucking you and your brains out until you won’t get a coherent sentence out.” you whisper in a low voice and do you deliver as you’ve said? but he got tricks up his sleeve too...

Most of the time, it’s rough and the fire play as well as powerplay takes most of the time. There’s always a battle for dominance, which leaves you both covered in marks and bruises. To say neither of you like it, would be unfair, especially when he disobeys you or flirts with other people beforehand, stepping on your nerves on purpose. (the quiet moans he lets out as you bite his neck, his collarbones, his earlobe, chest and thighs is an indicator if you ever need one.)

And thighs! Lots of thigh biting, massages, rubbing with fingers, or just squeezing the others head inbetween thighs is a given during oral and any foreplay that involved pecks and love bites in that area.

And as it is rough, you two always take your time, having a gentleness to jt in your own way. Be it a soft kiss out of nowhere, a certain way of bucking your hips or thrusting his hips into you. And as things are rough, it’s also when you get to let it all out, be yourself, unstrained.

Some days you’ll drop by his current job, or he’ll stop by at your place, and if he sees you in a headspace that’s too distracted, bothered or irritated by something, or just down; he’ll pick you up, wrapping your legs around him, pressing to you and nibbling on your neck and literally fuck your frustrations out. Those times he lets you take the ropes into your hands but if you’re not up for even that, he’ll take the charge on the spot, and leave clear marks to keep your mind off things for days. And in return, you’ll leave claw marks on his back, tug at his hair and press him to yourself until all you can feel is him; some days you’ll flip the both of you out of nowhere and press his head against your chest, hold his hands behind his back and guide him with your body, his muffled breathes tingling your chest, the nape of your neck and your lips; until your skins red, lips bleeding and gentle purples decorating all over you.

(and he’s a sucker for it. some days he’ll go in town to get something for you to use on him and drop at your place without a card or a name. If asked, he always denies, claiming he’d not get you things to make it easier to control him but the sight of you holding a whip and he can feel the blood rushing already, tugging at his belt and your tshirt. He hopes it’ll be just like that one time you pressed against his dick with high heels, making him beg to come.)

tags: @myelocin @atsumu-brainrot

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shield-sheafson · 4 years

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Chapters: ¼ Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown Additional Tags: Found Family, Fluff, Light Angst, Homelessness, Cass knows like 8 words rip, slight crime, Jason Todd and Cassandra Cain meet earlier, Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are Siblings, but not blood siblings in this just two kids who adopted each other, street siblings au Summary:

Professional street urchin Jason Todd is struck by an uneasy feeling and suspects someone is following him. That someone is former child assassin Cassandra Cain, who, with nowhere else to go, is taking a leap of faith.

—

This is my take on the Street Siblings AU by @a-sketchy-character! I told them earlier that I’d write something for it, so here I am owning up! Of course, you can read their comic based on this au @streetsiblings. Of course, @greytoiletpaper also wrote one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100699/chapters/66175306) and Experimental_Muse wrote this one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037882). Go check them out! Since this is such a popular concept, I hope I do a good job.

—

Jason pops another M&M into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue instead of chewing it. He has no idea why someone would throw away a perfectly good bag of candy, but he’s not going to think too hard about it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he can feel the strength coming back into his limbs. He feels less sleepy, too.

He tucks the empty bag into the pocket of his frayed jeans, already regretting finishing them. Now that he’s eaten something, what else is he going to do with his day? He hasn’t found any cigarettes, which is a pain, since it’s so cold that his nose feels numb and he could really use some warm smoke to fill up his aching lungs.

Maybe he’ll go to the library. He’s still too small to kick out for loitering, right? Just as he turns to leave the alley, Jason feels a shiver run up his spine. He whips around, raising his fists defensively. Nobody’s there. This doesn’t calm him down. Jason squints as he peers into the dark, wet alley, looking for any sign of movement.

“Hey,” he says in the deepest, roughest voice he can muster. “Think good and hard about what you’re about to do, buddy.”

What is the invisible person about to do? Jason isn’t sure, but he wants them to think good and hard about it. He hears a scuffle and nearly jumps out of his skin only to realize that it’s just a rat migrating from beneath the dumpster to a pile of cardboard boxes.

“What are you playing?” Jason asks. This voice is making his throat hurt. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Nobody answers. Jason weighs his options and decides that the best choice is to make a run for it. He nearly slips on a patch of slush in his haste to get out of the alley. Even when he’s a safe two blocks away he still has an uneasy feeling.

—

A couple of hours later, Jason has shaken off that gross feeling and has settled down outside the 7-11. He used to go here a lot– when his mom was around, it was where they got their groceries. Sometimes she’d splurge and they would split a can of Yoohoo. Even though he doesn’t have any money to go in with, something about the worn bricks and the smoky smell is comforting.

A gaunt man with dark circles under his eyes and a scraggly gray beard joins him, sitting gingerly on the damp ground.

“Afternoon,” he says cordially.

“It’s dark out,” Jason says. He’s not sure what time it actually is. Days and nights tend to blur together. They’re basically the same, though nights tend to be more dangerous.

“Damned if it isn’t,” the man says. “What’s a kid doing out this late?”

“Anywhere else I’m supposed to be?” Jason asks, scowling.

“Just askin’, just askin’,” the man says, raising his palms. “I’d just get somewhere safe if I was you. Some guy’s been– what?”

“What?” Jason repeats after him. “What’s going on?”

“Just thought I… It’s not safe for kids out there lately, is all I’m sayin’.”

Jason sighs and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, dragging down the edge of his hoodie. “Is it that big a deal?” It’s never really safe out there, but he’s always gotten by fine. “You’re not a kid, so you’re fine.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a little empathy,” the man says.

Jason rolls his eyes and walks off to find another place to lurk.

—

It happens the next day, too. Jason has the unpleasant feeling of eyes on his back when he covertly removes a woman’s wallet from her purse and he’s certain someone is about to yell “Stop! Thief!” but nobody does.

When he walks proudly out of McDonald’s with a bag of french fries bought will ill-gotten money, he expects someone to ask for one. Of course, he would have said “no,” but it’s almost disappointing when there’s nobody to answer. He’s not disappointed enough to be really put-off, though. He still stuffs his face wholeheartedly.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid.

—

Jason has been sleeping rough lately. The condemned buildings are already full of squatters, and he knows better than to accept “help” from people who offer couches to young boys. With nowhere inside to sleep, he’s been hiding from the sleet in a cardboard shelter he built in an out-of-view area between buildings and lined with newspaper.

Of course, it’s not usually safe to build a fire when your whole house is so flammable, but he’s risking it tonight. He has a pile of yet more cardboard and newspaper on the other side of the alley, but it’s damp and he’s having a rough time getting it to set alight.

“Come on,” he mutters as he clicks the lighter yet again. It’s a nice one (his mother had liked it a lot) but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Jason curses under his breath as the edge of the funnies page smolders and blackens without actually catching fire. Garfield stares at him judgmentally. That’s when he hears it.

A light “thump,” soft but unmistakable. Jason’s head snaps up. He’s afraid to turn and look. At best, it’s another bum looking to share his fire. At worst, it’s…

“What are you looking at?” he says harshly, still not turning his head. “Go find somewhere else.”

The presence at his back doesn’t go away. He feels frozen in place– he’ll admit it, he’s afraid. He knows someone has been following him. He doesn’t know who or why. He hasn’t had a moment where it’s not on his mind, and now his mysterious pursuer is right behind him. His only option is to protect himself.

Jason very slowly reaches into his pocket for the worn switchblade he’s carried since he was nine. His hand trembles as he wraps his fingers around the cold handle.

A hand is laid on his shoulder. He shoots up, pulling the knife out of his pocket and spinning around to face the person behind him.

Before he’s able to do anything a small, strong hand wraps around his wrist, stopping the freed knife in its path. His arm is yanked forward and a palm is shoved under his chin, forcing his face up. He just stands that way for a second, too shocked to move. His opponent doesn’t try to do anything else; they just keep him stuck with his chin pushed up and his arm stretched out, knife useless.

Slowly, cautiously, the hand under his chin lowers, though the grip on his wrist is still tight. He gets a good look at the person who’s apparently decided to hold him hostage.

They’re a kid. They’re (she’s) a little girl, much shorter than him, with big, serious eyes and a mouth covered by a heavy scarf.

“You’re really small,” he says through the hand that’s still partly covering his mouth. “What the fuck.”

She assesses him, eyes darting from his face to his free hand to his battered shoes. Slowly, she loosens her grip and lets go of his chin, releasing him. She takes a step back, body tense and ready to attack or dart away at any second.

Jason clicks his blade back into its case and slides the knife back into his pocket, not looking away from the girl’s face. She has dirty black hair that hangs in her eyes and thick brows. Her nose is delicate and rounded. If she hadn’t just had him in a painful hold, he would have assumed she was harmless.

“Why have you been following me around?” he asks. She doesn’t answer. “What do you want from me?” Again, no answer. Jason sighs (a puff of mist from his mouth). “I’m Jason.” He holds out his hand. Hesitantly, she grips it. Her hand is cold and thin. She still doesn’t say anything.

The girl lets go of his hand and points to the lighter on the ground. It glints at him in greeting.

“What?” Jason asks.

The girl squats on the ground and retrieves the lighter. She hands it to him and points at the pile of cardboard and newspaper.

“Wanna make a fire?” he asks. “There’s garbage in there, so it’ll stink.”

She doesn’t nod. She just points again expectantly.

“'Kay,” Jason says. “Can you talk at all?”

The girl doesn’t respond. Jason shrugs and crouches by his fire heap. The girl plops back on her bottom and crosses her legs.

It takes a while to get it to light. It’s a little embarrassing failing again and again with someone there to watch. Finally, one of the dryer pieces of paper goes alight and spreads to one of the bigger pieces of cardboard.

“See? It does work!” Jason says. Does he sound defensive? “It usually works fine,” he adds. This doesn’t make him any less embarrassed. He puts the lighter in his pocket with the switchblade and holds his hands out, taking in the heat. The girl pulls down her scarf. In the flickering light, he can see she’s smiling at him. She holds out her hands too, and they sit in silence for some time.

—

Jason realizes he’s awake before his eyes open. He’s aware again that his nose and fingers are cold and the back of his hair is wet from the damp concrete. His eyes flicker open and he sees that it’s daytime, pale gray and foggy. He rolls over, realizing with some consternation that he’s not even in his box hut. Anybody could have come and gotten him while he was asleep. He’s lucky they didn’t. He shouldn’t be so– what.

Someone is a few feet away from him, sitting up with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, looking at him thoughtfully.

Jason scrambles backward, scraping his hands on the rough concrete. He bumps his head on the brick wall behind him. It seems that the bricks knock some sense into him because suddenly the events of last night come back to him and he feels like an idiot.

“What are you doing?” he asks, rubbing his head.

The girl scoots over to him and pats his shoulder. Ah. She’s still not talking. Jason sits up straight. He pats her shoulder back. She smiles.

“So, do you just want to hang around here?” Jason asks, even though he knows she won’t answer. “In this alley?”

The girl just looks at him. This is starting to get frustrating.

“Just– just stay, I guess,” Jason says, standing. He points at the ground. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go get something to eat.”

He backs out of the alleyway, raising his palms as though he’s trying to calm a wild animal. He turns around when he’s certain that she’s staying. He puts his hands in his pockets and releases a breath of relief. Something about that girl makes him nervous. What’s her game? Is she just stupid? He wraps his fingers around the lighter and somehow feels a little more secure.

Jason settles outside a coffee shop and crosses his legs. Dozens of people walk right past him, ignoring his grubby face as they head to work.

“Hey, miss,” Jason says, making eye contact with a woman in a blue pantsuit. An almost fearful look falls on her face as she realizes she’s been wrangled into an interaction with him. “Got a dollar?”

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I don’t carry change.” She scurries off, nearly slipping in her high heels on the icy sidewalk.

“'Scuse me,” Jason says to the lady with the corgi on a leash. “That’s a cute dog you have there.”

“Thank you,” the lady says apprehensively. She walks a little faster.

“Wait!” Jason says. “Can I pet him?”

“S-sure,” the lady says. She turns and walks the dog up to Jason. It smiles stupidly at him. Jason stretches his hand out and it sniffs him with its wet nose. Jason rubs it between the ears. Even though this is for selfish reasons, he appreciates its attention.

“Can you spare seventy cents?” Jason asks. “For a bottle of water?”

The lady, with nowhere to escape to, reaches into her purse, takes out a dollar, and drops it into Jason’s open hand. Jason thanks her sweetly. When she walks away, he can’t hide his shit-eating grin.

Jason manages to gather up seven dollars before the coffee shop’s manager comes out and says “scram.” Jason smiles appeasingly as he leaves. He knows better than to get in a fight with someone without holes in their shoes.

At the convenience store, Jason buys an energy drink and a hot dog, like usual. Then he remembers someone is waiting for him and adds a plastic-wrapped breakfast sandwich. He’s wondering whether the stupid girl is a coffee person when the cashier starts giving him suspicious looks, so he grabs another Red Bull and pays quickly.

It’s kind of nice shopping for someone else. Even if it’s a little sad to think about the last time he was shopping for two. He whistles quietly as he walks through the glass door when– oops.

“Watch where you’re going!” he snaps.

The girl steps back and smiles apologetically.

“Oh… It’s you.” The door swings shut behind Jason. “I’d ask you to stop following me, but I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

The girl tilts her head. Maybe she does understand? Whatever.

He gestures for her to follow him. The convenience store people don’t like it when he hangs out right by the door. It creeps out the customers.

There aren’t as many people on the sidewalk anymore; they’ve all gone on with their days. Jason notices that the girl skips a little on her shorter legs to keep up with him. She isn’t wearing socks, he realizes. That can’t be good in this weather.

They stop to sit on the front steps of the law office. Jason pulls the food out of his plastic grocery bag and hands the sandwich to the girl. She takes it gratefully. He takes out his hot dog and realizes that the jostling while he was walking has deconstructed it. He shrugs.

“I’m guessing you’re new around here,” Jason says. “You’re not supposed to just latch on to people.”

The girl starts tearing greedily into her sandwich.

“I do pretty well on my own. I’m not gonna babysit you, you know.”

She nods. Again, Jason isn’t sure she’s taking in what he’s saying.

“Seriously. You can’t hang out with me. I’m busy.”

She smiles. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I like being alone.”

The sandwich is gone. She points to his hot dog.

“I mean, I guess,” he says, handing it to her. She looks at it for a second. A guilty expression falls on her face and she hands it back. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Cassandra,” she says.

“Wait, you can talk?”

“Jason,” she says, patting his shoulder.

The snow is dirty, but the sun glints off it prettily. Jason hates to admit it, but he’s in a pretty good mood right now.

#batman #dcu #jason todd #cassandra cain #street siblings au #dc #me writing

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rebelhan · 4 years

Text

nights like these

pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (no y/n)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: 18+, explicit sex, unprotected sex, cursing, angst (if you squint), thigh riding (if you squint), oral f receiving, barely any plot...

a/n: A long week with no new leads has you and Javier falling back into familiar patterns. This is my first post on this blog and also my first time writing for Javi!

masterlist

It’s nights like these when he needs you the most. When the sun has set hours ago and the embassy is empty save for the three of you, the warm glow of the desk lamps, and the dwindling bottle of whiskey passed around your desks. The words on the page were swimming in front of his eyes even before Javier took a single sip of alcohol, the strain from days on end of staring at files catching up to him.

A glance at the clock tells him he should call it a night, but his eyes fall to Steve across from him. One hand seems to be permanently fixed in his blond hair in frustration and his eyes squint down at the photographs as if he can will them to give him an answer. Javier turns to your desk and your eyes are moving back and forth across the page with a speed he didn’t think you could muster this late at night, but the empty whiskey glass held idly in one hand tells him that you’re feeling the fatigue, too.

Nights like this are when you are furthest from catching Pablo Escobar. It’s the end of a week with no field action, flicking through file after file after file, listening to every communication, even at the lowest levels of the cartel, desperate for some kind of lead.

Though there are nights when it’s the chase that keeps the three of you at the office this late. Where you feel so close that there isn’t time to waste on sleep because a win is at the tip of your fingers and all you need is to reach out. The adrenaline of having these criminals within your grasp fueling you through the night. Not this time though. This time it’s the fear that every waking moment you spend not working on this, Escobar slips further and further away.

But even that fear isn’t enough to stop the exhaustion as the small hand of the clock slides past one. Javier clears his throat as he looks back down at his file and the small sound is enough to interrupt the silence and break Steve’s concentration.

“Shit. I gotta get home to Connie,” he says, finally registering the late hour. Steve’s chair scrapes the ground as he stands up and gulps down the rest of the whiskey in his glass. You glance up at him and nod in farewell as he grabs his keys from the desk and his jacket from the back of the chair and drapes it over one arm. He claps a hand on Javier’s shoulder as he leaves. “You guys should head home, too.”

You grab the bottle of amber liquid from where it sits on Javier’s desk and he follows the movement as you tip a generous amount into your empty glass. He takes that as a sign that you’re sticking around for a while. Neither of you have someone you need to get home to anyway. There isn’t much for either of you outside of this work, and sad as it seems, it makes putting in the long hours a lot easier.

Despite being the only two people in the embassy at such a late hour, the silence is warm rather than eerie. Minutes pass by, punctuated by the sound of your pen scratching your notebook, Javier turning a page on the lengthy dossier he’s squinting at, the liquid sloshing around in the glass that doesn’t leave your hand.

You move to bring the glass to your lips and the motion distracts Javier for a moment. Your face is cast in a yellow light from the lamp illuminating your desk, the shadows behind you seeming darker, or maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him, but Javier swears you’re glowing. He’d say he was zoned out if you asked, but really he’s intently studying the features of your face as your eyes are trained on your notebook and your glass is still pressed to your lips, as if you got distracted from drinking by something you read. His eyes follow your hand as you tip the glass and take a sip, tracing the planes of your neck as you swallow the liquid, glancing back up to watch your tongue dart out and swipe across your lips for the lingering taste. Then all at once, he looks back down, forcefully turning a page, though he’s not sure he really understood what was written on the previous one.

He knew this pattern all too well. You guys get stuck in a rut, Escobar evading you for a while. The two of you stay late after Steve goes home. You both drive home separately, but he catches you at your door, across from his. He invites you over, desperate to take his mind off of feeling like a failure. He fucks you. It’s rough, messy, quick, but it’s enough to distract him. He doesn’t feel guilty at first, not until you’re tugging on your clothes in the middle of the night and he watches you slip out the door without looking back. He feels worse the next day when he sees you again, though you never bring it up. He knows he’s using you to ease his emotional burdens, but he imagines you wouldn’t say yes on these nights if you weren’t doing the same. It’s an unspoken agreement that it’s just stress relief, but he’s determined not to follow the pattern tonight. Especially not when the lamplight reflected on your face is tugging at his heart and that is something entirely new that he isn’t quite ready to think about.

The sound of your empty glass hitting the desk pulls him out of his thoughts and a glance at the clock tells him that he’s spent the better part of the last hour thinking about you instead of reading his file. Your chair scrapes the ground as you stand up before gathering your things. Javier watches your face as you pause for a moment, eyes scanning the surface of your desk, searching for something. Something seems to click as you shut your eyes and groan, rubbing a hand over your tired face.

“Fuck.”

You meet Javier’s eyes and he raises an eyebrow. “Steve drove me here this morning. My engine needed to be replaced after getting shot at last week.” A fact both you and Steve seemed to have forgotten as he was leaving. You huff in frustration. “I can wait until you’re ready to head out,” you say.

For a moment, Javier contemplates his earlier decision. He told himself he wasn’t going to fall into bed with you tonight. But the moment the words slip out of his mouth, he knows where the night is headed. “I’m ready to go now.”

It only takes a minute for him to get his things together. You wait in the doorway of the office for him and he shuts off the lamps on your desks before following you out. The hallway is dark, save for the light of the moon filtering in through the windows, guiding you towards the exit. Javier’s hand falls to your lower back as he pushes open the door to the outside. It feels like it’s burning straight through your shirt and imprinting your skin against the cold of the night. It remains there while you cross the parking lot until you reach his car and he has to step around to the driver’s side.

The ride to your apartment building is silent. Neither of you have the mental capacity to hold a conversation after such a fruitless week. The radio plays a quiet tune from whatever station Javier had been listening to when he drove to work that morning. You train your eyes on the familiar landmarks outside your window, pointedly avoiding looking at Javier. His car is filled with the scent of him, so strong, so intoxicating, that you feel like a single glance at his face would tip you over the edge. By the time he parks in your building, you are overwhelmed by his presence. Rationally, you know that it’s the stress of the week catching up to you and your body anticipating what it has come to expect after such weeks, but that thought does nothing to slow the thumping of your heart.

This time Javier doesn’t need to ask. You don’t part with him to stand at your door and perform the charade of fumbling with your keys, waiting for him to call your name as an invitation. Instead, you’re right behind him as he unlocks his door. If he’s surprised by the change, he makes no indication, holding the door open for you and closing it behind you.

As soon as you hear the telltale click of the lock, you waste no time, tugging him down by the collar of his shirt and slotting your lips against his. He makes a sound that comes from deep in his chest and lights a fire in your belly. He nips gently at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you. With a quick motion, he turns you and pushes you against the door, one hand cradling your head to soften the impact, the other holding tight to your waist as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his grasp.

Javier’s knee presses insistently between your thighs against your clothed center and the contact has electricity jolting up your spine. Your breath is short and ragged as he drags his lips along the column of your throat, stopping to tug your flesh between his teeth and lick over the bruised skin. One of your hands finds purchase in his hair, another on his shoulder, giving you leverage to grind against his thigh as he continues his assault on your neck.

A particularly sharp bite at your pulse point has your head tipping back against the door and his name falling from your lips in a breathy moan. “Javi.” He shudders at the utterance. His grip on your waist tightens impossibly and you feel his shoulders tense under your palm. He pulls back to meet your eyes. His expression is unreadable to you, unusually so, but you think nothing of it, distracted by the sight of his swollen lips. He shifts, flexing his thigh against you, his eyes never leaving yours, and when his name escapes your lungs this time, he presses his face back into the crook of your neck, the groan he lets out muffled against your skin.

Javier pulls back, and your hand falls from him, only for his grip to encircle your wrist and tug you impatiently towards his bedroom. He pushes you backwards towards his bed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You pull the article of clothing off and toss it aside. He stops when the backs of your knees knock against the frame of his bed, reaching a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra and slide the straps down your arms. His lips find yours again as his thumbs brush over your hardened buds. You suddenly become conscious of the fact that he hasn’t shed a single piece of clothing and you fumble with the buttons of his shirt, unsuccessful in your attempt to remove it as his lips move down your neck again distracting you from the task.

He pushes you onto the bed and you land with a bounce, pulling yourself up the mattress while he unbuttons his shirt. His eyes catch yours again and there is that unfamiliar look that you can’t quite place. If you didn’t know this to be what it was, a quick fuck to distract from work, you’d think the look was something almost tender, but you knew better than to let your mind wander down that road and even consider the possibility.

When his shirt falls away, Javier finds his place above you, hands on either side of you. He lowers his head to your chest, pressing his lips to the flesh there. He moves along your sternum, leaving a trail of kisses down your torso until he’s impeded by your jeans. With a flick of his hand, the button is undone and he tugs at the material in a silent request. You raise your hips and he shimmies your jeans and panties down together, leaving you laying bare in front of him.

It’s certainly not the first time you’ve been laid out in front of him, but the sight of Javier on his knees between your legs goes straight to your core. His eyes drag slowly down your body like he wants to memorize every detail of the sight and you hold your breath until he leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh. The air releases from your lungs in a shaky sigh.

Each bite to the skin of your thighs has your breath catching in your throat and leaving your mouth in a quiet whimper as his tongue soothes the reddening skin. His lips get closer and closer to your center and you can feel your arousal coating your thighs as he stays just shy of where you want him. With each nip at your skin, the sounds leaving your mouth rise in pitch, but Javier seems content to take his time. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, it registers that this is far slower than the two of you usually take it. It’s like he’s not looking for relief, instead he’s savoring it. The thought is fleeting though and you lose your grasp of it when Javier presses his lips just above your clit.

Your thighs tense in anticipation. On instinct, one of your hands moves to grip his hair and the other clings to his sheets.

“Javi, please.”

“Patience, hermosa,” he mutters against your skin, but he relents, finally, finally, pulling your knees to sit over his shoulders. The endearment is new, but you can’t find it in you to hold on to that thought, your mind foggy with arousal. He places one hand flat on your lower stomach and grips your thigh with the other, hard enough that you’re sure deep purple imprints of his fingers will litter your skin in the morning. He lays his tongue flat against your core, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit and collecting your arousal. Your hips buck against the hand that holds you down and it takes every bit of control left in you not to pull his head down against your core.

He draws another moan of his name out of you when he suckles your clit between his lips, alternating his tongue between swirling around and flicking the bundle of nerves. Your heels press into his back, an unconscious desperate attempt to pull him closer. The hand on your thigh finds its way between your legs and you feel his fingers at your entrance. He pushes two digits past your entrance and scissors them. This time when he sucks particularly hard on your clit and curls his fingers, you can’t stop your back from arching, pressing your core further against his face. The moan he lets out is obscene, like he’s enjoying this more than you are. The sound vibrates against you and pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He adds a third finger and his assault on your clit is relentless. With a few more pumps, you explode, the waves of pleasure radiating through every inch of your body. Your toes curl at his back and he lets you ride out the orgasm against his mouth and chin, his tongue still moving against you until it’s suddenly all too much and you push him away.

When he sits back, he slides his fingers out of you and your walls clench around the emptiness. His chin shines with your release. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you come down from the high. He meets your eyes as he places his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean. The action is enough to have another wave of arousal coursing through you. You pull him into a bruising kiss and you taste yourself when you slide your tongue past his lips. His erection is painfully hard against your thigh and your fingers reach for him, undoing the zipper of his jeans. He takes the hint and moves back to remove the material along with his boxers.

As he leans back down, you take the opportunity to flip him onto his back so you’re straddling his thighs. You spit into your hand and grip his hard length. He lets out a hiss at the contact and you pump your hand up and down. His hands grip your thighs bruisingly as clipped grunts escape his lips. You brush your thumb over the head, spreading his arousal, and stroke him until his hand catches your wrist, stopping you abruptly.

His eyes are pleading. “I need to be inside you.”

You raise your hips and position yourself above him. With a shaky breath, you lower yourself onto him. The delicious stretch has your head falling back. Javier lets out a slow groan as the feeling of you surrounds him. A guttural “fuck” leaves him as you bottom out. His hands leave your thighs and grope at the soft flesh of your hips as you begin to rock back and forth on him. The rhythm you set isn’t enough for him, and it’s not long before he’s raising your hips with his hands, meeting your thrusts with his own. The pleasure builds slowly inside you with each thrust.

As the pace quickens, he stops you, shifting onto his knees so you sit in his lap, one hand on your back to hold you close. The new angle gives him more control and he slams your hips against his over and over again, biting at the skin of your collarbone. The sound of your skin slapping against his is so salacious, you might have been embarrassed if he wasn’t hitting a spot inside of you so perfect that the feeling cleared your mind of any other thought besides the way he stretched you out.

He snakes a hand between your bodies and his thumb finds your clit. A couple quick circles has you clenching around him. You tip over the edge for the second time that night, your vision going blank for a moment as every muscle in your body tenses. Your head falls back and you cry out as he continues to thrust into you through your orgasm, his face pressed to your chest. His thrusts falter and he spills into you with your name groaned against your skin followed by a string of curses. He keeps moving slowly until he’s soft inside you and the feeling is too much.

He doesn’t slip out of you then, like you expect. Instead he holds you in his lap, panting deeply. His head is cradled in your arms and your chest heaves, matching his. You let yourself enjoy the haze of pleasure until you feel him pressing kisses to your chest. Your heart drops to your stomach in a feeling you can’t quite name and you stiffen for a moment. He keeps moving his lips against you as if he doesn’t notice and you force yourself to relax in his arms, though now you can’t ignore the thought that’s flashing red in your brain. This is new. And much softer than what the unspoken agreement between the two of you entailed.

He finally lays back and you roll off him, feeling an emptiness where he once was. You let yourself pause for a couple seconds to try and pull yourself back together. It’s not enough time to process what just happened, but you know you just need to get your clothes and get to the apartment across the hall and you can deal with everything soon enough. But as you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed, ready to begin the search for your clothes that are no doubt spread around the room, Javier’s hand yet again encircles your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. You turn your head to catch his gaze. You’re met with that unfamiliar look in his eyes, again.

“Stay,” he says. It’s a request, spoken quietly into the dark room, and you know that if you agree, you’re throwing away the delicate balance that the two of you have woven. Whatever this is will cease to simply be relief from a terrible work week, and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. And neither does Javier, but he knows he can’t stand to see you leave his apartment without a glance back on another night like this.

Wordlessly, you move back onto the bed and you lay your head on his shoulder, the hand he holds placed gently on his chest. There’s a silent understanding that this is what you both need right now, even if neither of you can admit it, the fallout tomorrow morning be damned.

-------

thanks for reading! feedback is appreciated

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña smut #narcos #narcos fic #narcos smut #honestly idk what this is it is my first time writing smut sklfjdf #im too embarrased to like heavily proofread so take that as u will lol #nlt

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

“On the Edge”verse - Stern and Barclay act out a scene where Stern, trying to hide that he’s a Sylph, shows up in Barclay’s, a famous cryptozoologist who is trying to find and document the werewolf, room late at night to intimidate him into leaving town. He tells Barclay that he is an FBI agent undercover at the lodge and that having any kind of reporter could jeopardize his mission. Barclay tells him to fuck off and things get heated, Stern accidentally gets revealed as the werewolf and tries another method of intimidation. NSFW, please

Here you go! For folks who want to know, On the Edge is my reverse AU. You can read this as a standalone as long as you know that Barclay is a human cook and amateur cryptid hunter and Stern is a Sylph. Barclay is trans, and has had top surgery and phallo.

“What would you’ve done if I made it back and shared that footage I got of you?” Barclay asks from his favorite spot in the world; laid out on his boyfriends furry torso, watching him try to do a crossword puzzle without tearing the pages on his claws.

“After Mama read me the riot act, I would have tried to get it back from you before you could put it online.”

“You realize it woulda looked hella suspicious if the Lodge Manager was suddenly trying to get me to turn over my camera. Or, like, snooping in my room.”

“Hmmm” Joseph sets the puzzle book and pen aside, scratching Barclay’s back lightly through his shirt, “I would have come up with a cover story. I’m not bad at those.”

“Babe, I love you, but you’re one of the worst actors I’ve ever met.”

“That’s in roleplay. Cover stories are different; I’m me, but in a different context. I could have pretended to be an FBI Agent, for instance.”

“Oh fuck that’s hot.” Barclay groans.

“Yeah? In that case, big guy, I have an idea...”

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

Joseph adjusts his tie, smooths down his lapels, and knocks on the door. A click-thunk of the deadbolt and it swings open, revealing his favorite Lodge resident. Barclay is a lumberjack pin-up come to life, complete with short beard and a fondness for plaid. He’s gentle to a fault, an amazing cook, and taller than Stern (when he’s human, of course). His size features frequently in the unhelpful part of Sterns brain dedicated to fantasizing about his future mate.

“Hey, you’re up kinda late.” Barclay smiles at him. His auburn hair is tied back, his thick, blue bathrobe tied tight, and for a moment Stern is tongue-tied.

When he collects himself, he crowds the other man back into the room, “It’s because something important has come up.”

“Do you have a sec before you get into it? I have something I gotta show you. You know how I’ve been on the trail of those werewolf sightings? I finally got lucky and got footage of it. An honest to god werewolf, Joseph, can you believe it.”

“Yes” he says, grimly, “that’s why I’m here. I, um, haven’t been honest with you. I’m not just the manager here at Amnesty. I’m an FBI agent with the department of Unexplained Phenomenon, and I’ve been investigating the strange goings-on in Kepler for years.”

“But...but that’s great! We can work together, with my footage and your resources, we could finally prove the existence of cryptids.” Barclay grabs his arms, beaming.

Joseph shrugs them off, “No, it’s not good at all. Barclay, I’ve dedicated my life to this mission. Any kind of publicity could put it all at risk, and that is not something I will allow. Which is why” he holds out his hand, “you’re going to give me the footage.”

Barclay balks, “Like hell I am. You wanna talk about life’s work? Half my profession thinks I’m crazy, and I’ve spent years wandering around every fucking backwater town, chasing every half-baked, wild-ass lead in hopes of finding the truth. This footage is it, it’s everything I’ve worked for, and no one is taking it from me.”

“If you don’t hand it over, I’ll charge you with interference in goverment business.”

“Fucking try it.” Barclay brings them toe to toe, glaring down at him, “the man in black shit’s never scared me.”

“It should. I know you’ve heard theories about what we do to people who know too much, and some of them are true.”

“I thought you were better than this, Joseph. I thought you were on my side.”

“I could be, if you cooperate. I don’t want to do this, any of this, but my mission is to valuable to let you post that video.”

Brown eyes dart towards the cookie-cutter dresser, the same one in each room of the lodge. Atop this one is a SIM card. Joseph is just a little faster than Barclay, grabbing the card the instant before the taller man grabs him.

“Get your hands off me!’

“Give me back my fucking stuff!”

Joseph pushes off the dresser, nearly sending them both to the floor, “No, I have it, it’s goverment property now!”

A laugh that Barclay just manages to cover with a growl, “That’s not how that works, asshole!”

“Face facts Barclay, the footage is mine, and I’m going to get rid of it.”

Barclay grabs his wrist, twisting it to try and free the card, “Over my dead fucking body!”

Joseph shoves him away, discovers two things at once: Barclay has the card, and his enchanted bracelet is on the floor. The suit rips as reality shifts, black fabric hanging, tattered, as the tie snaps and drops onto the rug.

“Hah!” Barclay’s eyes are on the plastic square in his palm. It’s not until he hears the growl that he glances up, “fuck!”

“Over your dead body?” Joseph bares his teeth, “that can be arranged.”

Barclay stumbles backwards, too focused on the werewolf stalking towards him to watch his step. His knees catch the edge of the bed and he falls onto it with a yelp. Keeps crawling, as if the headboard and wall will just dissolve when he hits them, rather than trap him. Or maybe he’s planning to hide under the cover. Joseph doesn’t really care, his plan allows for plenty of contingencies.

“You, you’re the one. The wolf in the video.”

“That’s right.” He reaches out, plucks the card from Barclays fingers. Waits until he’s watching to snap it in half and toss the pieces into the trash, “hmm, that was much easier. Maybe I should have started with this plan. I avoided it due to the downsides.”

“Like?” Barclay is gradually flattening against the headboard.

“Like the fact that if you know the whole truth about me, I can’t let you leave.”

“Joseph, please-”

“I didn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave me much choice.”

“I’m gonna call for help, someone’ll hear me-”

“Everyone at the Lodge knows the truth about me, knows I’m getting that footage tonight. They won’t come to help you, not matter what they hear through the walls.” He snarls, grabbing Barclay’s ankles and yanking him flat on his back. Fear spikes though the air, sharp and acid in his nose. The sweeter scent of arousal floats behind it. He ignores that part; it must be coming from another room.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Barclay pulls a pillow protectively across his chest, “Wait! T-there’s a duplicate if the video. I burned it to another drive just in case. If, if you kill me, it’ll always be out there, waiting for someone to find it.”

Joseph cocks his head, “That does put us at an impasse.”

“If you promise not to hurt me, I’ll give it to you AHgod” He whimpers as Joseph crawls up his body, nudging the robe open with his snout as he scents the arousal once more. It’s undoubtedly coming from the man under him.

He drags his tongue up Barclay’s throat, grips his chin to force him to keep it exposed as he snuffles and licks at it, “That’s fair. And I have a further, um, incentive for you. You” he growls low in Barclay’s ear, chuckles when he squirms, “monsterfucker.”

“Do you mean you’ll, uh” his voice creeps up an octave, “fuck me? Like, fuck me fuck me?”

“Yes, needy boy, it does.”

“Drive’s in the bottom of my suitcase, in the trick bottom of the black pair of boots.”

Joseph laughs, “That didn’t take long. I’ll deal with it later.” He flips Barclay onto his stomach with ease, “right now I have a handsome human to handle.”

“Yes, fuck, please handle me babe, please. Wanted you to touch me for months.” Barclay flails his robe off.

“Yeah?” Joseph ghosts his claws up and down the human’s sides, “does the werewolf thing add to that desire?”

“Yes” the blush spreads up his back, “I just, I want you so bad Joseph, in any form, every form.”

“Was that what you were thinking of when you put this in?” Joseph presses his thumb down on the blue, silicone plug nestled in Barclays’ ass.

“Look, jerking off to you is an important part of my nightly routine.”

“I do love a man with a schedule.” He squeezes his ass in both hands, admiring the pinpricks of red from his claws. Barclay whimpers, pushes his hips up as Joseph goes for another handful.

“I see someone likes to be submissive.”

“Fuck yeah, wanna be held down, roughed up, wanna do what I’m told.”

“Oh? Does this fit the bill?” Joseph blankets himself over the human, letting him feel how he dwarfs him.

“Uhhuh, fuck, fuck that’s so fucking hot.”

The werewolf noses the base of his neck, draws his lips back to bite it. It doesn’t break the skin, but it clearly communicates that Barclay cannot get away unless Joseph allows it. It’s rude, an inelegant sign of dominance over a partner, but Barclay has not been well-behaved tonight. And from the sounds spilling out of his chest, he likes the threat of teeth on tender skin.

Joseph rolls his hips, grinding until his cock perks up. As soon as it bumps him, Barclay reaches off the side of the bed, retrieving a bottle of lube from the bedside table.

“Glad you have a large bottle. We’re going to need it.” He works the plug out, hums approvingly when he finds it on the larger end. Dumps a handful of lube onto his cock, trying not to think of how much laundry this will all generate.

“On your knees and raise your hips. Good boy.” He works the tip in, Barclay moaning the entire time.

“More, I want more, please” the human pushes back, cried out in delight when he gains another inch. Joseph is keenly aware that his tongue is starting to loll out as he watches Barclay spread wider and wider on his cock. It’s been years since he fucked a human this way, and the tight warmth has him panting in no time.

“So, should I, ahfuck, expect your next book to include a chapter on the mating habits of werewolves?” Joseph teases, pulling Barclay’s hair free of it’s tie so he can bury is face in it, scenting him in new ways.

“Y-yeah but it’s, it’s gonnaFUCK, be like a fucking sentence, max, because the other is too busy getting his brains fucked out to research.”

“Why not do both at once?” He grips the human tight, hauls him upright and turns them ninety degrees to face the mirror on the closet door. Barclay takes one look at the clawed hands grabbing his chest and waist and tips his head back to moan loud enough that Joseph’s ears perk up. The fact he just slid another inch down his cock may also be a factor.

“Now” Joseph skates a hand down his tan, hairy belly, stops to tease his cock once before continuing lower, tilting the human so he can clearly see the cock thrusting into him, “you’ll notice that you’re hitting the protoknot. In many instances of sex, it’s the stopping point.”

“Don’t wanna stop, wanna take it” Barclay paws at Josephs arms and thighs.

“I thought you might say that. I suggest bracing your hands on mine so you’re upper body isn’t thrown about.” He plants his hands on Barclays hips, waits for the human to follow the suggestion. Slowly, he puts more and more downward pressure on that sturdy yet oh-so-fragile frame. At the same time, he pushes his hips up, wiggling them back and forth, side to side, so the knot works in incrementally. Barclay gasps and grunts, holding him so tight that he feels his fingernails through the fur on his hands.

He gives a sharp growl and a final thrust, and bottoms out.

“AHnnnngod”

“I agree.” He dips his head, nipping and mouthing at Barclay’s shoulders. Then he grins, “if you want a sense of scale, look down.”

Barclay does, whimpering when he sees the outline of Josephs’ cock inside him.

“For such a sweet little mate, you can take an awful lot.” He starts on a slow tempo, Barclay reaching down to touch his lower belly.

“Holy shit, that’s wild. I wonder if--uh, b-babe? What’s happening.”

Joseph kisses his cheek, “Remember how I called it a protoknot?”

“It’s gonna get bigger?” There’s a fine line between excitement and hysteria, and Barclays’ voice is riding it.

“Yes. This is a reward, but it’s also insurance against you running off an revealing my existence. Keeping you stuck on my cock all night is an excellent way to keep you from acting on any second thoughts. Mmmmm, oh that’s good” he speeds up, the human bouncing in his lap, “I cannot wait to fill you up. It’s going to take all night and it’s going to be great, you’ll be covered in my marks, stuffed full of my cum, no one will doubt you’re mine.”

Barclay snickers, “Getting territorial on me, blue eyes?”

In reply, Joseph sinks his teeth into his shoulder, the thought of anyone else daring to touch his human, his Barclay, his mate, his love, driving his hips faster and faster until he spills into him, leaving no doubt as to who his ass belongs to.

“FUCKfuck, babe, baby, ohgod” Barclay wriggles, then throws his head back as Joseph closes his fingers around his cock. Turning his face leaves it half-buried in black fur, his breath warm on Josephs upper chest, “yes, that feels so good, please don’t stop, wanna cum, wanna cum on your cock.”

Joseph kisses his head, “You will, good boy, I promise.” He works him over with loving efficiency, growing more protective and affectionate with every moan and whine that Barclay tries to muffle in his chest. When the human cums he bears down and tightens, which Joseph’s body takes as a cue. He cums again as he strokes Barclay through his climax, letting out a satisfied growl at the fact he can already feel his cum starting to pool around the head of his cock.

“You’re so small” He coos, caressing every part of the human he can reach, “you’re already straining to take it. I wonder what state you’ll be in tomorrow morning.”

Barclay raises a clawed hand to his lips, kissing it before rubbing his cheek into the palm, “Only one way to find out.”

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

“Barclay? Are you with me, big guy?” Human fingers card the hair from his face as warm lips kiss his forehead and nose.

“Uh huh. When did I finally conk out?”

“Around three in the morning. I was able to pull out about a half hour later. I toweled off the worst of the mess, but you’ll probably still want a bath.”

He opens his eyes; Joseph, in his X-Files pajamas, smiles at him and then nestles down into his arms, “I already started coffee, and I got you those granola bars you like so you’re not going into your shift too hungry.”

“Thanks, babe.”

”Are you sore?”

“Sitting might be a challenge today, but it was worth it.”

“Need anything?”

He tips his boyfriend’s chin up to kiss him, “Nope. Got what I need right here.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #taz amnesty #reader requests #reverse AU

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years

Text

Mine Now

Summary: You’d been in the gang for a while now, and you’re sure that a certain blue-eyed cowboy has some feelings for you.

@verai-marcel‘s high honor/low honor writings intrigue me, so I wanted to take a page from her book and try it myself!

Tags and warnings: Violence, alcohol, smut, body worship, rough sex, overstimulation, slight dom/sub undertones

“Y/N.”

Settled on a crate just outside your tent, you peered up from the book you were reading. Arthur, one of your favorite people, stalked up to you, stopping just a couple of feet away.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Ah, just some novel I grabbed last time we were in Valentine.” you responded.

“’Sit any good?”

You shrugged half-heartedly in response. “It’s okay,” you sighed, though it kept you from being bored all day. “Did you need something?”

He shifted in place, his eyes leaving yours to stare at the ground for a moment. He was silent at first, slowly lifting his head to meet you gaze again. “I got tip of a stagecoach headin’ towards Flatneck Station, holdin’ somethin’ good. ‘Sposed to be transferred to a train goin’ west. Gonna try and get it ‘for then. You in?” he asked.

Curiosity piqued, you put your book down. “Sure. Anyone else coming along?”

He shook his head. “Nah, jus’ you and me,” he paused. “That ain’t a problem, is it?”

“Of course not,” you answered immediately and stood up, smiling at him. “Just gimme a few minutes to get ready.”

He nodded, returning with a small smile of his own. “Ya know where to find me, then.”

Within ten minutes, you had gathered your supplies and mounted your horse. You rode with Arthur, side by side, loping down a dirt path in the forest. Arthur asking you to do missions with him wasn’t new; however, this was the first time you and him went alone together.

It’d been almost a year since you’d joined the infamous Van der Linde gang, being picked up by an enthusiastic Dutch after you tried to pickpocket him. You remember him entering a saloon with such a swagger that screamed rich. You were at the bar, scouting the crowd for some drunken fools that could unknowingly leave with lighter pockets that night.

You always got away with it, and you almost did that time. Hadn’t been for that same man riding alongside you that caught your action in the first place. You tried to scamper away, attempting to lose them by disappearing into the crowd. You’d managed to get outside, though ultimately cornered by two men shortly after. You however held your ground, defending yourself of your thievery by trying to smooth talk your way out of it.

Neither of them were convinced, though Dutch seemed intrigued by you. After a few minutes of talking, he offered you a place in his gang. And you, having nothing but the clothes on your back, agreed.

Life before the gang wasn’t easy. You’d been on your own since you were sixteen; your mother had died when you were very young. Your father, a somewhat poor farmer, had always tried his best to keep you fed and happy. He unfortunately had an accident while chopping wood, and despite your best efforts, his wound turned gangrenous without money for proper medicine. And without any known family nearby, there was not much you could do.

Originally you’d gotten a job delivering groceries for a shopkeeper. The job wasn’t glamorous and the pay wasn’t the best, it still meant three hot meals and a bed to sleep in. After a few years, the shopkeeper had passed in his sleep, and the shop was sold back to the town, leaving you once again with nothing.

You did a few odd jobs here and there, even had your hand at being a deluxe bathgirl. It didn’t last long due to the sheer amount of perverts that would come your way. Eventually, you’d come across a small group of thieves who taught you their ways. Rather than robbing people at gunpoint, they taught you to have nimble fingers and how to be sneaky. It was a decent setup, until one got a little too greedy and found himself on the noose just a day later. The others scattered, leaving you to fend for yourself once again.

You’d been on your own for a couple of months until Dutch and Arthur found you.

For the first time in a while, being a part of this gang felt like having a family again. A diverse band of outlaws that each welcomed you with open arms.

With your quick hands, you soon learned how to expertly wield a gun. Arthur was the one who taught you, and even gave you your first; a Cattleman revolver that sat holstered on your hip. With your newly found skills to parallel your current ones, you soon became a valued member of the group. Whether it was robbing stagecoaches in the cover of night, or dressing up all fancy and slipping your hands into the coat pockets of unsuspecting coal giants, you were one of the first people to be asked. And you always accepted.

Every single mission was alongside Arthur. Even when on the rare occasion you weren’t chosen for one, Arthur would ask for you to come along anyway.

Admittedly, something about him intrigued you. He was usually quiet, though held an air of authority to him that most of the others respected. You didn’t know too much about him, only prying out bits and pieces when you talked. The times when he was drunk he’d spill a little more, but other than that, a lot of his life was a mystery to you. Even when you’d ask, he’d shrug and mumble something vague. He was a little bolder when it came to confronting people, a show of his strength that was reserved for the direr of occasions.

That still didn’t stop him from sitting next to you at the campfire on most nights, or wishing you a good night when you went to bed. He was always the first one to speak to you in the mornings as well.

Every time, you’d feel your heart flutter a little faster.

You couldn’t help but to feel something for him. He was older, something you appreciated since anyone your age had a one-track mind, especially in the situations you’d found yourself in on more than one occasion.

He was also handsome. The way those blue eyes stared at you, sometimes you feel as if you could melt on the spot.

“Hey, Y/N,” his voice snapped you from your thoughts. “We’re almost there.”

You nodded silently and focused on the road ahead. The forest was thinning out into an expanse of a field ahead. You spotted the stagecoach, though the station still a little too far to see. This was good, meaning you were still early enough to intercept it before the train. Arthur slowed his horse to a trot and you did the same.

“What do you wanna do?” you asked, looking at him.

“Your call this time.” He said, tilting his head toward you.

You blinked in surprise. You’d never called the shots before. “Er, why?” you asked.

He shrugged. “You been with us for a while. I wanna see how you do things. You alright with that?”

Well, this was new. “Okay…” you began, observing the stagecoach. It was fairly small; with two horses and one guy steering. That didn’t account for who was inside, but you’ve handled more with ease. There was also a lockbox on the back, which most likely held the loot. “We’ll make it easy. You distract, I’ll get into that lockbox.”

“Alright,” Arthur said. “We got a plan then.”

You smiled at his approval. Even though you’ve had your fair share of kills, you would prefer to leave without bloodshed if you could help it.

He sped up, galloping into the forest to go wide around, briefly disappearing within the trees. You kept behind, far enough so no one would be alerted of your presence. Within a few minutes, Arthur had effectively stopped the coach. Hiding behind the thicket, you hopped off your horse and carefully snuck forward, taking care not to rustle any bushes.

As you got closer, you heard Arthur speaking to the driver. You kept your eyes forward, careful not to kick any rocks or step on any sticks along the road.

“…don’t mean to bother ya, just need a little bit of direction…” Arthur’s voice sounded. Though you were focused on the box, your ears were trained to listen for any issues. So far it was a normal conversation.

You’d reached the back of the carriage, and you pulled out your lock picking kit. Keeping yourself steady, you began to work at the lock. You heard Arthur trying to prolong the conversation, and you quickened your pace. Within a few short moments, you heard the satisfying click of the lock releasing. You let out a silent breath of relief and flipped the lid up, and was graced with the sight of a few fat stacks of bills.

You grinned and grabbed them all, stuffing them into your satchel.

“Hey!”

You froze, eyes widening as you looked up. One of the passengers had poked his head out, and was glaring at you.

Shit.

You only had time to roll out of the way when shots were fired at you, and you fumbled with your revolver, pulling it out of the holster before throwing yourself behind a nearby boulder for cover. Arthur shouted something, and more gunfire was heard, along with thundering hoofbeats.

You peered over, quickly taking a view of the fight. The driver was dead, though the passengers – four of them – came running out of the coach, guns out. Arthur circled around on his horse, firing at them.

You took your chance, taking a deep breath and aimed. It were as if time slowed down while you hyper-focused on your shots, pulling the trigger flawlessly and effectively nailing each in the head in a split second with crimson splatter. It was a little trick Arthur had taught you, and has proved to come in handy in dire situations.

The others were out of your vision, though swears filled the air along with multiple gunshots. Leaving your cover of the boulder, you hurriedly pinned yourself to the carriage, peering around to the other side. The two men were firing into the woods, though you couldn’t see Arthur.

While they were distracted, you aimed and quickly fired, leaving a hole in the skull of one as he lifelessly flopped forward into the grass. The other turned around in shock, yet had no time to react when another gunshot rang out. The bullet had flown through his eye socket, the surprise still plastered on his face as he joined his comrade on the ground.

Heart pounding, you stepped out into the open, squinting to see Arthur still on his horse, trotting out of the cover of the woods. “Arthur!” you sighed in relief.

“Y/N?” Arthur called out, coming up to your side. You could see concern plain on his face. “You alright?” he hopped off his horse, stepping somewhat close to you, his eyes traveling up and down to look for any damage. He held his hand out as if to place it on your shoulder, but kept those few inches of distance.

“Yeah,” you responded breathlessly, holstering your gun and brushing off the dirt and leaves sticking to your clothes from your brief meeting with nature. “That was close.”

The relief he expressed was visible. He put his hand down. “Yeah it was,” he glanced over at the now five dead bodies littering the path. “So much for the sneaky approach.”

“Well, we got out alive,” you pointed out with a smile. “And without a scratch.”

He nodded in agreement, and gestured to your bag. “How much ya get?”

You pulled the money from your satchel, taking a few moments to count them out. “Three thousand.” You announced.

Arthur’s eyebrows raised in surprise, soon replaced with a triumphant grin. “Glad to see that lead weren’t a dud.”

“Hell yeah,” you agreed, splitting the money three ways. You gave him his share, tucking away the rest: some for you, and some for the camp. “Let’s get back, shall we?” you added and whistled for your horse.

---

“Whoa, that’s a nice cut!”

“Good job guys!”

“Damn, Arthur, Y/N. You really got a good one!”

The praises that befell you two when you returned from camp were endless, the air filled with whoops and cheers. It’d been a bit of a dry spell as of late; robberies gone wrong or false leads. This put a damper on the camp, and this news had brightened everyone’s spirits.

As some of the boys gathered around to congratulate you, you couldn’t help but to notice Arthur had stepped back from the crowd. His head was tilted to hide his eyes underneath his hat, though you noticed a slight frown set on his lips.

You were soon distracted when Karen came up, pressing a bottle of beer into everyone’s hands for a celebration.

It’d been late afternoon when you got back, and it darkened to night as the liquid celebrations ensued. After a while, you were a few beers in and sporting a decent buzz. You chatted with the others, your lips a little looser under the influence of the alcohol.

At some point you’d glanced toward the campfire. Arthur was sitting there, along with a couple of others. All of them were drinking, though the latter were chatting amongst one another whilst Arthur remained quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

What was he thinking about? You, perhaps? You knew he felt something for you, he must have. Why else would he ask you to accompany him for that robbery, alone? But the poor boy is probably too shy to come out with it. Maybe you could give him a push…

You swaggered over, giving an airy greeting to the boys. Glancing down at Arthur, he offered a small smile though said nothing. A thought crossed your mind, and before you could think on it further, you acted on it. Standing in front of him, you bent down and sat directly on his lap.

You felt him freeze underneath you. “Y/N-”

“Hey Morgan, got your good luck charm there?” Bill teased with a laugh.

“Seems more than a good luck charm.” Javier added.

You giggled and wrapped an arm around Arthur’s neck, taking a swig from your drink before turning your head to look at him. Even in the orange glow of the fire, you could see the surprise plain on his face.

You also noticed he didn’t rebut Bill or Javier.

“Should we leave you two alone?” Lenny chimed in.

“Ah, it’s all harmless!” you shot back with a smile. “Arthur don’t mind.” As you said that, you turned your head to look at him again, noting his eyes were bright, intense. His hands hesitantly rested on your hips, and you shifted yourself closer in encouragement.

The others chuckled like schoolgirls, though you didn’t care. Arthur’s still surprised gaze was on you, though gave no intention that he was uncomfortable. In fact, you’re pretty sure he subtly pulled you even closer.

Maybe now he’ll get the message.

“Actually, I’m going back to my tent for a bit.” you announced, untangling yourself from Arthur to stand back up. You could have sworn his hands lingered on your hips before you were up completely. Turning your head and giving him a subtle wink, you sauntered toward your tent at the edge of camp.

---

High Honor

You pushed back the flap of your tent, your heart pounding as you walked in. Beer had taken the edge off, yet you weren’t drunk enough to feel shameless about what had happened. It surely seemed like a good idea at the moment.

You hoped you were right. You sat on the edge of your cot and waited, hoping he understood you. A few minutes had passed and nothing had happened.

You were sure you’d made a fool of yourself, and Arthur will probably never talk to you again, or scold you for even attempting such a bold move. How stupid you were to think he thought of you more than just a fellow gang member. It will certainly be an awkward discussion in the morning with the others.

Your thoughts were soon derailed when the sound of footsteps drawing close to your tent caught your attention. You blinked, seeing a familiar silhouette step up, standing on the other side of the canvas. Could it be?

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Arthur’s voice sounded.

Oh, shit. Was he going to yell at you now? “Go ahead.” You answered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

The flap opened again, and Arthur stepped inside. His gaze was once again hidden by his hat. His posture didn’t indicate anger. In fact, he seemed to be nervous. It reminded you of how he approached you earlier that day.

The silence between you was deafening. You weren’t exactly sure what to say to him, and it appeared that he didn’t either.

You took a deep breath, decidedly initiating the conversation. “Uh, s-sorry about that. I’m kinda tipsy.” You admitted, hoping that he’d accept the behavior from your inebriation.

He slowly looked at you. “No need to be. I, uh, I actually…” his eyes darted downward again, trailing off as if he couldn’t find the words. He seemed more nervous than you at the moment.

You blinked, standing up slowly. “You…”

He gave a soft sigh. “I actually…liked that.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

Eyes widening, you responded with a quick exhale. “What? Really?”

He continued to fidget in place, the anxiety coming off him in waves as he tried to muster up his next words. You waited patiently, although you knew what he was going to say. “Y/N, I…well, I like you. I like you a lot.”

The weight that sat in your stomach lifted so much it felt as if you could fly right then and there. “Really?” you gasped.

He nodded, looking at you fully once again. “I have for a while. Hell, I’ve liked ya since you joined us.”

“And you never said anything?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to earlier, but I got kinda nervous. Wasn’t sure if you liked me back. Wouldn’t blame ya if you didn’t.”

You frowned at his response. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, I ain’t the prettiest to look at. I ain’t the youngest either. Wouldn’t think you’d waste your time with someone like me, when you could be with anyone else.”

Your stomach churned at his words. You never knew he had such a low opinion about himself. You reached out and entwined your fingers with his. “Well, Arthur Morgan. Listen to me when I say, I like you too.”

He glanced down at your hands. His lips parted as if to say something, yet no words were formed. It took him a good minute for he asked, “Why?”

You stepped closer to him, closing the space between you two. Releasing his hands, one of yours went to gently cup his cheek. His stubble was rough against the soft skin your palm. “Because you respect me. You see me for a person and not just a thief or some girl with a pretty face. And you’re a lot more mature than any guy my age.”

He chuckled at that last bit. “‘Spose I got that goin’ for me.”

“And you’re damn good looking too,” you added, reaching up to take his hat off, revealing his face in full. “Don’t know why you’d think differently.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a kiss. He once again stiffened in surprise, but soon eased into your touch. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, holding you close as your lips moved quietly against his.

A long moment passed before he pulled back for air. His gaze was soft and loving, all for you. A rush of heat spread through your cheeks. The two of you were holding back feelings for far too long.

You kissed again, exhibiting much more passion now. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to him. The heat of his body radiated against yours, and you pressed even closer. The space closed between you elicited a soft groan from him, a sweet melody that sent a fire elsewhere within your body.

A presence made itself known against your thigh. Before you could make sense of it, Arthur stepped back, releasing you and turning himself away in embarrassment. “Sorry…” he murmured. “I should get goin’…”

“No.” You whispered, reaching out and grabbed his hand again. “Stay, it’s okay.”

He blinked in confusion. “You sure?”

You nodded silently, tugging him back toward you. “If that’s how you feel about me, then act on it.” In the dimness of your tent, you could see the bulge that rested behind his jeans. How far could this go? Your free hand twitched forward, slowly, your eyes never leaving his. He didn’t stop you, or move away. Laying gently along his hardness, you palmed him slowly. You were rewarded with a soft groan, the uneasiness melting from his being.

“I ain’t been with a woman in a long time,” he shyly admitted to you, his hips slightly pitching forward vainly searching for more friction. “I may not be what you expect.”

“You’re perfect either way,” you assured him, running your hands up his torso to rest on his chest. He made a small noise of disbelief, and you gently shushed him. “Let me prove it.”

He was silent this time, watching you as you nimbly began to unbutton his shirt. One by one, revealing the expanse of his pecs. Once completely undone, you pushed the fabric aside to reveal more. Your hands began to explore him, admiring hard muscles underneath scarred skin. Every ridge and plane didn’t go untouched. Your fingertips roved every part of him before finally resting at his waist, hovering above his pants.

Reaching up, you whispered in his ear to lay down. Without questioning, he did so, his eyes never leaving you. He looked so beautiful and vulnerable in this position. Carefully, you straddled him, leaning over to give him a gentle kiss. “You’re beautiful,” Your murmured against his lips, moving down to kiss every scar you’d found before. “Every part of you.”

“Darlin’…” he sighed, rubbing his fingers through your hair. You smiled at this, knowing your words were beginning to take effect.

Kissing below his navel, you made quick work of his belt and buttons. Pushing aside the restraints, his length was revealed to you, standing straight and waiting. He certainly had a bit of girth to him, and your mouth watered at the thought of having it inside you.

You wrapped your hand gingerly around him, hearing another soft sigh passing his lips. You kneeled in between his legs, pumping your hand once. His eyes fluttered.

“Arthur,” you said gently. “Look at me.”

He focused onto you, his hands taking place on your waist.

“What a beautiful sight, you are,” you murmured, pumping your hand at a slow and steady rhythm. “Don’t you think?”

“…Y-yes.” he stuttered hesitantly, eliciting a low groan.

“And you’re perfect the way you are, right?”

“Right…” he moaned, keeping his eyes on you.

“Good boy.” you purred, leaning down to sweetly kiss him. He deepened it, his tongue exploring your mouth heatedly as your hand sped up. You could feel his fingers playing with the fabric of your pants, tugging your shirt free from them. His rough hands found their way underneath, though let a muffled hiss of annoyance to find your chemise was blocking him.

You giggled, sitting up to shrug your shirt off. Your chemise was soon to follow, exposing your upper half to him. He wasted no time in reaching for you.

“You feel so soft, so nice…” he murmured, one hand sliding up your midline, stopping between your breasts as the other gripped one, kneading it within his palm. The sensation felt great, sending a flash of fire straight down to your core.

“You feel nice too,” you added, your hand returning to his length to solidify your statement. “Can’t wait you have you inside me…” the more you played with him, the greater the heat made its presence, pooling as moisture in your undergarments.

He hissed out a swear. “Shit, Y/N. I want you…”

Oh how you wanted him too. But you wanted to prolong this moment, make it memorable between the two of you. Most importantly, you wanted Arthur to feel good about himself. “Touch me, Arthur,” you breathed. “Prove me how good of a man you are.”

He sat up slowly, never breaking his held gaze. He continued to massage your breasts as his other hand slinked down, unbuttoning your pants.

His calloused fingers parted your lower lips, finding his target with ease. A moan escaped your mouth as he danced slow circles upon your bundle of nerves. Your hands rested on his shoulders, partially for balance, almost melting from his touch.

You praised him, your breathless compliments were like music to his ears. You could see that smile growing, his touch becoming more fervent the more you spoke. Pleasure coursed through your veins, and your back arched, pressing your breasts to his chest. A noise of appreciation escaped his throat, and he leaned down to kiss your soft flesh. He nibbled lightly along the crook of your neck, across your collarbone, and along your nipples. A gasp uttered from you, shivering as his lips and teeth toyed with the sensitive nubs.

Peak on the rise, you ran your fingers through Arthur’s hair. “You’re so good, Arthur...” you purred to him. “I’m close. Keep going.”

He peeked up at you, and slipped a finger in. Feverishly working your inner walls, he brought into a smooth, deep kiss. Arms around his neck, you gladly accepted it, hot breaths mixing and your moans muffled. Ecstasy pulsed like fire in your veins, filling you up to your very center. It was coming, and quick. You broke the kiss, reaching your orgasm as you sang out a moan. Your hips shuddered, grinding languidly against his palm as you rode out the last waves of it.

Your heart raced and your face flushed, you gazed lustfully at Arthur. He pulled his hand out, marveling how soaked his fingers had become.

“Is that to your likin’, sweetheart?” He asked, giving you a look of expectant curiosity while his voice radiated need for approval.

“Mmm, I think so,” you gave a soft giggle, idly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger. “No man has made me come to my orgasm the way you just did.”

You swore you’d never seen a man blush so hard.

“And I want you to do it again…” you whispered, getting up to pull his pants off the rest of the way, exposing him completely to you. Your own pants were to follow, though taking your time to shimmy them down your hips. Arthur watched, eyes wide, reflecting a hunger that lurked beneath the surface. Bringing yourself to straddle his hips, you hovered yourself over him. “By taking me completely.”

His lips parted slightly, though his words died in his throat when you’d rubbed your folds across the pinkened head, coating him with your slick. His hands found their way to your hips again, though from the shudder that rippled through his chest, he staved off the urge to force you onto him. “Fuck…” was all he said in a strained voice.

Slowly at first, you began the descent that allowed him to stretch your inner walls. Inch by inch, filling your core, biting your lip and wincing a little as you adjusted to his size. He watched you in awe, taking him whole as you seated yourself completely on his lap.

And then, you started to move.

The slight pain from before had disappeared completely, the friction absolutely amazing. You gripped on his shoulders, using the added leverage to roll your hips on him. A slow place, though lovely all the same. His grip tightened, not enough to hurt. He let out a small groan, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. Another swear escaped his lips.

“Y/N…Jesus, you feel…so amazin’.” He rumbled, kissing your shoulder.

You could only moan in response, increasing your movement against him. He began to lightly thrust into you, keeping in sync with your motions. His deep, guttural moans vibrated pleasantly. His teeth ravaged your skin again, knowing you’ll have marks later on.

His hands moved to your back, bringing you even closer to him. Pressed together, he drove himself further upward into you, dragging along your sweet spot. You trembled in his arms, tilting your head up to let out a moan, keeping your voice steady to not alert the entire camp of your pleasure.

“You sound beautiful, sweetheart.” Arthur marveled, tilting his own head up to kiss along your neck. His stubble tickled you pleasantly, all the while he continued to subtly push himself toward your pleasure.

“So do you,” you mewled. “You’re d-doing marvelous.” Caressing his face, you kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and finally on his lips. Fingers slinked through his sandy hair, with every loving and gentle touch he groaned in appreciation.

Briefly breaking his lips away, his arms wrapped around you. Strong and warm, he lifted you off his lap and laid you on your cot. The feeling of emptiness was short, him sliding back in with one smooth motion. His eyes never left yours as he placed his hands on either side of you.

He thrust slowly, deeply, kissing you again to staunch your whine. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, allowing an even deeper angle for him.

He moved faster, harder, rocking your body to the very center. Your second was on the rise, advancing too quickly for you to even fully comprehend. Your voice heightened to alert him, your nails dragging along his solid back.

Arthur pulled back a few inches, giving you a stare so intense that it almost made you blush. “You close?” and when you nodded, he quickened his pace.

The explosion radiated from your core, ascending into you moaning out his name. As the fire ebbed from your belly, your shaking legs fell limp as his hips started to shudder.

“Shit, I’m close too.” He groaned, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower with abandon. You could only cling to him as he chased his own peak. In seconds he pulled out of you, rubbing himself between your folds before releasing his spend across your belly with a guttural moan.

With both of you panting, Arthur met your eyes once again. His face was flushed, though his eyes were bright and soft. It was quiet, no words were exchanged for that first moment of post-copulation bliss.

You spoke first after catching your breath. “That felt amazing, Arthur.”

He smiled shyly, leaning down to plant a sweet, gentle kiss on your lips. “It did.” He straightened up, taking in the sight of your sweaty, fatigued body with a look of marvel. He’d reached for his bandana and wiped away the mess he’d left on your stomach. This faintly surprised you at how much of a gentleman he was. His gaze swept over your cot. “Uh, may I?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to you.

You smiled up at him, scooting over to create more room. “You may.”

He took the space next to you, though there wasn’t much room on your cot. He pulled your blanket on top of the two of you before he wrapped his arms around your torso.

You pressed yourself closer to him, snuggling into the crook of his body. He felt warm and slightly slick with sweat, though you didn’t mind.

A wide yawn escaped Arthur’s mouth. “Can’t believe we just did that…” he mumbled, nuzzling the back of your neck.

You turned your head to look at him. “Why?”

“Bein’ able to lay with someone as amazin’ as you, I only dreamed of it,” he explained, the lull in his voice accompanied his drowsiness. “Didn’t think you’d have feelings for me as well.”

Arthur,” you cooed, laying a tender hand upon his cheek. “I think I just proved to you how you make me feel. That ain’t gonna change.”

He hummed in response, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I’d hope not. Cause after this, I’d like to call you mine. If that’s okay.”

You smiled widely at him, turning to kiss him once again. “Of course it’s okay.”

---

Low Honor

Your heart leapt to your throat the moment you’d stepped into your tent. Had you really just done that? It was a bold move, even by your standards. Despite the shame that loomed, an active giddiness took a hold of you.

You paced in your tent, unable to calm yourself down. Blood thundered in your ears, every second felt like an eternity. Arthur had to have gotten the message at that point. If he didn’t take your hint, then you couldn’t imagine the endless testing you’d get for weeks from the boys afterward. Even worse, you were afraid Arthur may never even speak to you again.

Despite the pounding of your heart, you heard footsteps stalking up to your tent.

The flap fell open, revealing Arthur as he slid inside. Your eyes widened, and he stopped before you, his hands gripping his belt in a domineering way that could have made you weak at the knees.

“You mind tellin’ me what the hell did that was about, Y/N?” He asked in a low voice.

Was he angry? Your mind flipped back and forth between rational thought and a cheeky response. The alcohol had tossed better intuition out the window. “Your lap looked cold, thought I’d warm it up.” You responded simply, folding your arms.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “That so? Why would you think that?”

“I think you know, Arthur.”

His eyes caught yours, a firm gaze that you held evenly. He then swept his gaze over you, his tongue darting out between his lips as if looking at a delicious meal. “Do I? Then tell me.” He challenged.

God, that voice. “I think you like me.” you said simply.

He stepped closer to you, stopping within inches. “S’that whatcha think, huh?”

You nodded silently, forcing yourself to keep still. His entire being instilled a fear in you while simultaneously igniting a thrill that sent fire through your veins.

The hunger in his eyes intensified. “Can’t say you’re wrong,” he chuckled slightly. He reached towards your face, tucking a stray lock behind your ear before running his fingers through your hair. You were surprised by this gentle action, though you didn’t object it. “You have no idea what the hell you do to me, woman.” He growled in an almost animalistic way.

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t, as he gripped the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss.

You stiffened at first, unsure how to take this. His other hand held you in place by your jaw, although not tight enough hurt. You relaxed after a moment, melting to him as his tongue prodded its way past your lips. You tasted the liquor he’d been drinking, as well as a faint tang of tobacco.

Moving his hand from your head, he placed it on the small of your back. “Been wantin’ ya for a while,” he said in between kisses. “Since that day you tried to rob Dutch.”

You felt your face flush in surprise. “Really?” you whispered against his mouth.

“Wanted to take ya then and there.” He growled to you, pressing his hips against yours. The warm line beneath his jeans made itself known against your mound.

You gave a slight gasp, not expecting to feel that. You however stood in your place. “Wh-why didn’t you?” you stammered, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Decided to step back n’ watch,” he continued. “See how ya fit in with the gang.” He moved his hands to hold your hips, locking you against his body. “But seein others try to be sweet on ya, made me jealous. Surprised ya didn’t go for anyone else.”

“No one really stuck out to me, not like you.” you admitted.

A growl emitted from his chest, no doubt pleased with your words. “Wanted to say somethin’ earlier at the robbery, but it didn’t feel like the right time. Couldn’t help but to be jealous again, when everyone was surroundin’ you. I wanted to pull you out n’ take you to my tent.”

Your face grew hot again. “Arthur-”

He cut you off with another kiss, even rougher than the first. He pressed his weight to you, making you back up until the back of your legs hit your cot. “But now I got you here,” He whispered. “Been waitin’ a long time for this.”

Leaning onto you, his weight forcing you to sit and lie back. His mouth attached to your neck, sucking and nipping your skin. You shuddered from the sensation, letting out a small moan. He reached for your shirt, nimbly unbuttoning it before peeling it off, then pushing the fabric of your chemise aside to expose your breasts. He wasted no time in tweaking your nipples, rolling them in between his fingers. You bit your lip, shuddering underneath him.

“God…” you mewled, feeling a warmth pool between your legs.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asked, his mouth resting on your pulse point.

“Y-yes,” You answered with a wavering voice. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, gripping one breast to caress it with his tongue. He swirled around your nipple, sucked on it, stimulating you in ways you’d never dreamed of. His other hand slinked down the front of your body, making quick work of sliding into your pants.

“Wet already?” his fingers found your center immediately.

You whined in response, shuddering as he toyed with you. Mere minutes had passed by before he slipped a finger in, and then another, slightly stretching you out as he vainly sought your climax. Your hands clawed at his shoulder, his back, anything to hang on to, your body feeling almost limp to his touch. “Arthur!” you gasped, unable to form any other words.

“Go on, princess. Let me feel it.”

Your peak hit quick, expelling a rush of liquid into the palm of his hand. You cried out weakly, your entire body trembling from the sudden onset of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” he reached up to pet your head before standing up straight and pulling you back to your feet. He pressed on your shoulders, making you kneel on the ground. You peered up at him curiously, wondering what was next. Appreciating him from this angle gave you a rush.

He began to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants. Pulling his hard cock from its restraints, he prodded your lips with the tip. “Go on.”

Oh. You’d only heard of this maneuver, though had never seen it in action or attempted it yourself. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to try. You opened your mouth slightly, easing the tip slowly inside. Your tongue swirled around it carefully, turning your eyes upward for a reaction.

He let out a soft moan, his hand returning to your head. You took a little more of him in your mouth, inch by inch until you were almost at his root. He was wide, taking up more room than you’d thought. His hips twitched slightly, a small movement to indicate for you to continue.

And you did, slowly bobbing your head along his length.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Arthur rumbled, petting your head once again. “Make that pretty lil’ mouth work.”

You hummed around him, adding vibration against his sensitive shaft. His hand added some pressure to the back of your head, prompting you to go faster. His groans sent a thrill through you, pooling once again in your already soaked undergarments. Daring to go further, you reached up and fondled his balls.

He uttered a small gasp, his hips bucking forward slightly. “Darlin’,” he hissed. “You gonna make me cum before I’m ready.”

You giggled lowly, giving him one more good rub before focusing on his length once again. He bucked further, and you felt him hit the back of your throat. You fought the urge to gag around him, closing your eyes and allowing him to fuck your throat.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Arthur cooed, reaching down to caress your cheek. “You’re so pretty from this angle.”

You made a noise of appreciation, surprisingly enjoying the praise. You held yourself still, letting him have his way for a moment, thrusting quickly into your mouth over and over again. It lasted for longer than you’d anticipated, before he pulled himself out completely, his breathing slightly uneven.

He leaned down to kiss you tenderly, wet and sloppy from your spit. Pulling back to give you a smirk, “Can’t get carried away,” he murmured. “But your mouth is somethin’ else.”

“Glad I can please, then.” You said sweetly.

His smirk widened, and stood up straight once again. “I ain’t done yet though. Get on the cot.” He commanded. You did so without question, sitting on the edge. He grabbed the waistline of your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear, leaving you bare for him. “On your back.”

You lay down, peering at him expectantly. He stood in between your legs, hooking his arms around your thighs. Stepping closer, he prodded your entrance with his cock. Sliding it through your folds a few times, covering himself with your moisture and sending a shiver up your spine.

With one thrust, he sheathed himself smoothly and quickly, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gave a whimper of pain. “A-ah, fuck!”

“Take it, sweetheart,” Arthur growled in encouragement. He released one of your legs to dip to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “You’ll like the pain.” He began to thrust.

You bit your lip, tensing from the pain-pleasure that gripped hold of your body. The more he moved within you, the better it began to feel. You breathed slowly, letting your muscles relax as sweet ecstasy began to overtake you.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he drawled, increasing his ministrations upon your sensitive nub while his thrusts grew faster and harder. “Beautiful, takin’ my cock like that.”

You moaned loudly in response, your fingers slipping along your cot, failing to find purchase for anything to hold onto. He fucked you hard and fast, the glorious friction allowing the heat to build up quick in your core.

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, and your wanton whining filled the tent. He was relentless with you; his fingers dancing against your bundle of nerves without a break. You get your second peak building quickly, your voice raising an octave in warning.

“Go ‘head.” He granted, his own voice breathless, somehow rubbing you even faster than before.

The coil sprung deep within you, emitting a moan that soon turned into a squeal, realizing Arthur hadn’t removed his hand. You squirmed in his iron grip, trying to get away from his touch. He held you even tighter at that.

“Cum again,” he ordered. “I love the way you look when you do.”

You cried from the overstimulation, failing to escape his fingers. He continued regardless of your efforts. “Arthur, p-please!” You begged, absolutely writhing now. Though at this point, you weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or continue.

He pounded harder within you, managing to hit that spot that made your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. The buildup happened fast, wrenching out another one explosively cascading within you, a mewl escaping your mouth.

He grinned down at you, drowning your sounds of pleasure with a deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, but he pulled away. You whined in protest, wanting the closeness.

He chuckled, pulling out to flip you onto your hands and knees. Finding your entrance again, he didn’t hesitate to pound you from behind with much more intensity than before.

Your back arched, gasping at the new angle. It felt great, your already tired muscles trembling beneath him. You called out his name rather loudly, only to have him shove his bandana in your mouth. He leaned over, his thick torso pressing down on you.

“Ain’t nobody need to know what a filthy whore you are, ‘cept me,” He growled in your ear, his tone like fire in your veins. “Ain’t that right, princess?”

You made a muffled moan, unable to do anything else as he mercilessly fucked you, pounding himself in such a feral way. “I’m close,” he huffed to you. “I’m gonna…fill you up.”

You didn’t even have a moment to comprehend his words. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

With one last powerful thrust, he pressed his hips to yours, eliciting a low groan as he released his spend deep within you. He rolled himself against you shallowly, milking himself of every drop before he pulled out, slowly, feeling you shudder as he did so.

Without the support of him, you collapsed onto your cot, removing the bandana from your mouth. You felt yourself shaking, sweat covering nearly every surface of your body. As tired and used as you felt, a sense of euphoria began to trickle through your veins. You rolled onto your back, silently watching as Arthur cleaned himself off before tucking himself back into his jeans. Despite the flushed look on his face, one couldn’t tell what he’d just done.

He took a deep breath and met your gaze. A smile of satisfaction crossed his face, reaching out to run his hand up your midline to caress your cheek. “Beautiful, princess. You did so well for me.”

Heat crept into your face, shyly averting his gaze. How could this man be so romantic after fucking you like that?

“Ah ah, look at me, darlin’,” he softly chided, removing his hand to place both on your hips again, gentle this time, prompting you to stand. You did so silently, letting him wrap his arms around you. As you leaned willingly into his embrace, your body trembling from head to toe, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, “You’re mine now.”

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #high honor Arthur #low honor Arthur

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