#cutie patootie soft squishy sweater daddy🥺

[tehejosietehe]

‘Tis The Damn Season

(sneak peak)

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Actress!Reader (high school sweethearts)

Warnings: cursing, angst, flashbacks, slight mention of death, drinking, cuddling (if that’s considered a warning?).

Word Count: 400+

Based on: ‘Tis the Damn Season by Taylor Swift

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with, while I was gone, I would’ve asked you.

“I can’t believe they make us do this every year.” Beth’s voice was a near whisper over the background music.

Every holiday season, your high school friend group liked to set up a holiday “get together.” It ideally consisted of a group of about thirty of you, a small number in the large class you graduated with. Over the years, the group diminished. Some moved away, some got married, had kids, some even died. You tried to come back, hell, you all promised the day of graduation that you’d try. But, about five years ago, you moved out to Los Angeles on a hunch that it would kickstart your acting career.

And that it did.

You remember the look on Ransom’s face when you told him you were moving.

“So.. Berkeley will let me transfer all of my credits so I can graduate on time,” you mumbled, limbs tangled with Ransom’s as you laid on the floor of the Thrombey estate, in front of a crackling fire that he’d, surprisingly, started all by himself.

The amber glow of the flames illuminating the hurt in his eyes, the blue hue radiating one of sadness, rather than the joy it normally did when he was around you. One sip from the glass of stolen bourbon, an exhale, and he was finally ready to speak.

“That’ll be good for you, peach.” His voice was sad. Was he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, sad? For you? “I have no doubt you’ll, uh.. you’ll do great.”

“Ran—.”

“I’ll help you pack.”

But, he didn’t. He didn’t even come to say goodbye the night before you left. He dodged your texts, your phone calls. He even ignored you banging on his front door at three in the morning, begging to talk before you left.

Why was he so upset? You weren’t together. He made that abundantly clear. The two of you had been fuck buddies since you were about fifteen. He never wanted to make it any more than that.

So when you first made eye contact with the sweater clad playboy on December 24th, you felt your heart drop. It had been five years. Five fucking years since he’d seen you. And god, you looked perfect. Your hair styled to perfection, skin glowing with a radiance only the California sun could provide. He’d seen you in movies, of course. He’d seen you dating some of the most eligible men in Hollywood. And he hated every moment of it.

header made by @firefly-graphics xx

Hope y’all enjoyed this lil preview of an upcoming one shot!

I already have Family Values starting and part one will be up either tonight or tomorrow soooo, be on the lookout for that!

As always thanks for reading and ily x

- Jo 🪐

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