#i am so far completely removed from everything I’m gonna be sick
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pissfizz · 7 months ago
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I’m going to lose my mind oh my god I am so scared for this quincenera wtf
#NOT MINE BTW I MISSED MY CHANCE LMAO#but Jesus Christ family I’ve never met before flying in from Panama…. god I’m so scared#I’ve already been dealing with some wack ass imposter syndrome ass shit cuz of how I was raised this is gonna make it SO MUCH worse#I DIDNT EVEN KNOW PANAMANIANS GOT QUINCES#i was raised with almost zero influence from any culture whatsoever I wasn’t even raised close to that side of the family#and like I’m mixed with white but I can’t even use that as an excuse cuz the cousin who’s quince it is is also mixed#and that side of the family is super tied to the culture and they speak Spanish and shit#i don’t even speak Spanish even if the family from Panama doesn’t think ima. total embarrassment what if most of them don’t speak english#when I’m surrounded by white people 24/7 I feel like a total outlier but the second I’m around anyone else latine I feel like that but WORSE#i don’t speak Spanish I don’t know anything about the culture I’m from the fucking pacific northwest and do digital art and watch anime#i am so far completely removed from everything I’m gonna be sick#my grandma is already so judgy about stuff my uncle was even WORSE and made fun of the stuff that was too white or too American about me#my cousins throwing the party are the least of my worries cuz at least their mixed and second/third Gen too#but oh my god the family I’ve never met before I’m so scared I’m so scared#i was already thinking like. can I even call myself latine bc of how I was raised and how far removed I am from everything. I’m mixed so -#-should I just associate myself more with the white side of my family. am I being fraudulent by identifying with that term just bc I have -#-the blood is that even enough maybe that kid had a point when he said I shouldn’t count as hispanic if I don’t know spanish#and thinking about showing up to my cousins quince as. me. it’s terrifying it’s awful I want to go I want to meet these people I want to -#-celebrate my cousin and be happy for her but GOD what if everyone hates us and just tolerates us cuz we’re related to them#i would say we’re the black sheep of the family but I feel like white is more fitting cuz I feel like we’re just slightly brown white people#god god god I’m so stresssd out by this#is this a weird thing to be worried about is this stupid is this selfish#and to make matters worse I DONT KNOW WHAT TO GET HER FOR A GIRT#vent
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deandoesthingstome · 2 years ago
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Night Moves
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Chapter 8
Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)
Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.
Word Count: 5226
Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, alcohol, general violence,  and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI. Edit: If you were here before, know that I removed drug use and drug addiction, as well as makeup sex. I had a plan and things changed, as they so often do.
Chapter Warnings: Worried and Out-of-His-Mind Walter, police procedure (sure), family check ins, some really questionable hospital procedure, fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving).
A/N: I am not a doctor or anything, but I will tell you I had a friend experience one of the scenarios I mention in this chapter, so it’s not completely made up. Also, while the mystery is solved, I’d still like Walter and Alex to have some fun, so there will likely be one more chapter.
Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.
Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.
Playlist:  Night Moves Songs 27-29 Direct Spotify Link
Masterlist
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They won’t let him into the ER, so Walter paces in the lounge for about 20 minutes before he walks back to the nurses station to see if there is any news.
“Sir, I completely understand how frustrated you must be, but please be assured this is the number one trauma hospital in the region and our top oral and maxillofacial surgeon was on call when her ambulance called in and he is with her right now. They’ve also called in a neurologist to begin taking scans and she will be back to treat her when she wakes up.”
“When will she wake up?” Walter can’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not dumb. A thirty minute ambulance ride and a twenty minute ER trip isn’t fixing what happened to her but he doesn’t know what else to do right now.
The nurse takes a deep breath and gives him her warmest smile, full of the same care and compassion she gives all patients.
“If you would like a private room to wait, I can see where they think they're going to put her when she’s out of surgery.”
Walter nods and while he’s sure she’d come back to the lounge to get him, he waits against the wall across from her desk, a little out of the way but not so far he would have to wait one minute longer to find a place he can just put his head in his hands and let the rage dissolve into tears. He’s clenching his jaw while he thinks of everything else he should have done this morning. 
Call out sick. Wait for Sy with her. Take her home and lock her up in his apartment.
He’s been in the private room for about thirty minutes when Rachel calls to see if he needs anything.
“Commander’s giving a press conference in a few hours if you want to watch,” she tells him.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, saying nothing more and not caring about the silence.
“Walter? Do you need someone to talk to?” She knows he does, but she also knows at this moment he’s lost and doesn’t know what to do. She waits while he considers, can practically hear the gears spinning in his head. “I need to be here for the news, but I can talk right now if you want?”
“I appreciate it, Rachel. I really do. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to say anything productive.” Walter slumps in the semi-comfortable chair next to the bed he wants to see Alex in sooner rather than later and holds his head in one hand while he presses the phone to his ear with the other.
“Call or text when you hear anything about her. Or if you decide you do want to talk.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” He hangs up and closes his eyes, but he can’t get the image of her face out of his head no matter what he does. He knows it’s not going to matter, whatever the outcome is as long as she is alive, he’s gonna figure it out. Figure out how to take care of her, how to nurse her back to health, how to make sure she’s never in danger again.
He can feel the moisture gather and since no one is around he lets it happen. Lets big tears spill down his cheeks while leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He can count on one hand the number of times in his life he felt this helpless, useless. It’s seriously messing with his head. Maybe he should call Rachel. 
He manages to hold out and by the time the urge to phone a friend has passed, an army of staff is wheeling a bed into the room. There’s Alex, hooked up to a million wires connected to bags of liquid and machines being rolled in with her. At least he assumes it’s Alex. Her face is completely covered in bandages and her eyes are still swollen shut.
“Detective Marshall?” a man in scrubs calls to him from the doorway to the room. “I’m Doctor Khan. May I have a word outside?”
“How is she?” Walter is up on his feet, eager to hear anything this person has to say. Until he steps outside.
“Are you next of kin? Any relation?”
It’s like a cold slap in the face and he has to take a few moments.
“No. Just a friend. On the case.”
“Any idea how to get a hold of someone who can make some medical decisions for her?”
“What kind of decisions?” Ice is running through his veins now.
“We’ve had to induce a coma. The head trauma was drastic and this was the only way to stave off the effects of the concussion and prevent further trauma and possible relapse. Her jaw is wired shut, but will require additional surgery once we can wake her. We need someone to sign off.”
“You say she’s in a coma? So I can’t talk to her?”
“Oh, you can talk to her. As a matter of fact, it’s recommended that someone do, as often as possible, while she’s out. Studies have suggested it’s one of the best ways to keep the synapses vibrant, working. She won’t be able to respond, obviously, but subconsciously we believe she can hear and process these sounds. And if they are from someone she knows, trusts, it’s even better. But we can’t do anything more until we have the proper authority.”
“And I’m not that, am I?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“But I can be in the room with her?”
“For now, at least. We can allow it due to your position with the department, but if the family arrives and rescinds permission, there isn’t anything I can do about that. Do you have any way of getting in touch with them?”
“I’ll figure something out. Thanks doctor.”
Walter steps back into the room and waits for the final staff to finish whatever it is they are doing and leave before he drags the chair closer to her bed and sinks in next to her. He clasps her hand in both of his again, lifting her fingertips to his lips as he closes his eyes.
“Alex, I don’t know if you can hear me, but they said I should talk to you, so that’s what I’m going to do. I probably shouldn’t bring it up, but I’m so sorry, Alex. Sorry for this mess you are in. I’d trade places with you in an instant if I could.”
He opens his eyes and watches for any movement, any sign she has heard him, but there is nothing happening in the room except the mechanical whirr of the machine breathing for her, and the beeps from the monitors indicating it’s doing the job and her heart rate is steady, her blood pressure is good, her body temp is regulated. There are drips of who knows what every now and then into the saline running into her system.
“I’m gonna turn on the tv here, okay?” It’s rhetorical, he knows, but he’s just going to narrate to her until he can think of something else meaningful to say. “Commander’s going to make a statement about what happened soon, and I want to hear it if that’s okay. I don’t want to upset you. And I’m going to figure out how to get a hold of someone for you, okay? Unless you wanna wake up and solve that little problem for me, whaddya say?”
He knows it’s too much to hope for, but he wonders if she’ll sense the little bit of levity he can manage.
He presses the remote and scans the channels until he finds a local news station, leaving it on low until the main event.
“I’m going to text Rachel. See if she can get me some contact information at your apartment building. Oh, hey. Does your friend across the hall know anyone? What’s her name by the way?”
He taps out a few questions on his phone, gives Rachel the apartment numbers of Alex and her neighbor and asks if she can have someone call the manager to see if they can help at all. He sees the text bubbles and doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until he sees Rachel’s response and he lets it out. They are about to start, but she’s passing the task onto another officer and will get back to him as soon as she has any info. He taps out a quick, yet sincere thanks, then turns up the volume and sits back to watch the proceedings, taking Alex’s hand once again.
“They’re getting started. How about you watch this with me, okay?”
He sees the commander take the podium, camera lights flash, and a few questions are shouted out prematurely. The commander waits until there is silence, although the cameras are still clicking away.
“At approximately 3:35 this afternoon, local law enforcement in partnership with the county sheriff's office accessed private property just outside of town in an attempt to prevent an assault and possible murder.”
More lights flash, and more questions are shouted.
“In the course of the events,” the commander raises his voice, “the perpetrator was shot and killed after refusing to comply with commands to cease his attack. His victim was taken immediately to Abbott Northwestern Hospital, where a team of specialists has taken life-saving measures. We understand the victim to be in critical but stable condition at the moment. We will not be releasing any information about the victim until family can be reached.”
“Is it true the perpetrator was a member of the Minneapolis Police Department and will you tell us the name?” a reporter calls out, still not waiting for an official invitation to questions.
“We believe the perpetrator to be responsible for a number of unsolved missing persons cases over several years, as well as a rash of assaults on women in the downtown Minneapolis area over the prior three months. Evidence connecting the several assaults with one another as well as the possible missing persons and recent murder of Trixie McCabe has come to light, and our perp is being considered as the only suspect at this time.
“I’d like to commend Detective Walter Marshall for initiating the task force to look into these cases as well as Rachel Chase for her profiling assistance. At this time, the acting lead on the case, Detective Greeves, with assistance from Profiler Chase, will make an additional statement about the operation, the suspect, and our next steps.”
Walter is speechless. The commander said “acting” which implies “not permanent,” which in turn implies they’re going to let him continue with the case. He can’t even hear what Greeves has to say, he’s so stunned and it isn’t until he hears his phone ringing that he realizes the press conference is over.
“Marshall, here,” he answers, not bothering to look at the caller id.
“Dad?”
Walter takes a deep breath before he answers. “Yeah, baby. It’s me.”
“Are you okay? Why aren’t you on the case right now? Did you get hurt at the scene?” Faye’s panic is audible and her questions are coming a mile a minute giving Walter no time to answer. He has to calm her down.
“Faye, listen to me. I’ve answered the phone. I’m alright.” He waits for her to stop. “I’m not on the case because I’m with the victim right now. I need to find her family and get her some medical help. But I’m fine, Do you hear me?”
“Yeah.” He can tell she’s relaxing, taking deeper breaths, thinking of her next words. “I was so worried, Dad. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no! No Faye, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry you were frightened. I never want that for you.”
“I love you, Dad. Mom wants to talk to you, okay?” Faye asks.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Good night, Faye.”
“Oh, wait! Dad? Do you want to skip Sunday?”
Walter has to take a moment. Has it really been less than a week? Is he really just coming up on a breakfast date with Faye? 
“Can I let you know tomorrow?”
“Of course. Night Dad.”
Angie gets on the line and checks in with Walter too. Same basic questions. Just wants to know he’s alright. She doesn’t ask why he’s with a victim right now. He isn’t sure if he cares why she hasn’t.
Rachel calls almost immediately after he hangs up with his ex. 
“Which one?” he thinks sardonically to himself.
“The neighbor, Mrs. Travers had a number. We’ve made contact with the family and someone will be there in the morning. You gonna stay until then? You need me to bring you anything?”
“Maybe a change of clothes? There should be something in my locker.”
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Three days later
“She’s awake,” Drew calls to Walter with cautious optimism, returning to the family lounge.
Walter stands up from his chair and steps forward to speak with Alex’s brother. He saw the commotion outside her room when he stopped by for one of his regular visits, so he set up shop in the lounge while the staff tended to her and shared results with Drew. He wants to grip him in a bear hug but thinks maybe it’s still too soon, too familiar. He hasn’t exactly been forthcoming about the nature of his relationship to Alex, not that he can’t see the wheels spinning in Drew’s head. But he really thinks it ought to be up to Alex to define it for him. So he extends a hand instead.
“That’s great, man. Is she...is she aware?” Walter drops the handshake and crosses his arms, putting up the armor subconsciously.
“She wants to talk to you,” Drew says.
“She’s talking?” Walter asks with surprise.
“Well, no. Not exactly. You’ll need this.” Drew hands Walter a tablet with a messaging app open and he sees the last chat is “Walter?”
He doesn’t waste anymore time. He skids into the room and drops to the side of her bed, careful to grab her hand and not her face the way he wants. He presses her palm to his lips and closes his eyes for a second while he heaves with relief. He almost doesn’t care she can probably see the tears forming, but he wipes them away anyway and gives her a cautious smile.
“Alex,” he calls, unsure how else to begin.
She gently pulls her hand from his grip and points at the tablet. Walter hands it to her and watches as she begins to tap out a new message.
“You're here.”
“Of course, I am. God Alex, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Walter apologizes.
“Not your fault. No way. He’s dead?”
‘Yes.” Walter watches her eyes close as she breathes a sigh through her nose. Only then does he realize her jaw is still completely shut and the bandages aren’t just for show. “How are you?”
“Tired. Sore. Angry. Confused. Any and all of the above?”
Walter laughs with relief because he can absolutely read the tone of her texts and he can tell she still has all the self-assured personality he discovered and admired about her in their short time together.
“Yeah, to be expected I suspect. Did they tell you everything that happened to you?”
“Not the part where I was kidnapped and beaten to within a few inches of my life, cause I think I figured that one out on my own. But yeah,” she types.
“I never knew they could induce a coma to counter the effects of physical trauma. That’s some sci-fi shit right there if I ever heard it.”
“They said it was maybe the only thing that saved my brain.”
Walter takes a deep breath and tries not to scrunch his face in anguish but Alex pulls the tablet back before he can reply.
“They said it was a gamble and my outcome is the best possible one. Minor memory loss, but mostly so I don’t recall exactly how many times that asshole hit me. And for some reason I can’t recall anything more than one night with you.”
Walter isn’t sure if she’s serious, but when he looks up from the tablet he thinks he sees a twinkle in her eyes.
“Well that would be because we did only have one night together,” he smiles, then furrows his brow and lowers his voice to a dare-to-hope whisper. “Were you wishing for more?”
She nods as enthusiastically as she can without setting off the pain receptors and Walter closes his eyes with relief again.
“Good. That’s really good. Me too, if I wasn’t clear, but just to be clear. Me too.”
They spend the next half hour hashing out some details of her ordeal. He tells her it was apparent from the wounds inflicted on Jonas that she fought back like a hellcat and how proud he is of her. She asks if he really was a cop and Walter has to admit he somehow didn’t see that one coming. They puzzle over the unsigned card that only says “I’m sorry” on a vase of flowers she’s been sent.
“They’re lilacs, right?” he asks, because other than apology roses, he’s never really taken the opportunity to gift flowers to a woman, so he isn’t quite up on all the varieties. He also isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t sent her the biggest get well bouquet he can find, but thinks it probably has to do with how much he was willing or not willing to share their relationship, if he could call it that, with her brother while she was out. But he knows he wants to remedy that with Alex soon. 
When she nods, he hazards a guess. “Could be from Lila.”
“???”
He considers how to approach it and chooses directness. 
“She was Jonas’ girlfriend.”
“That monster had a girlfriend???”
“Somehow, yeah. Real shy one, not sure how she built up the courage to bring us the evidence, except I think she didn’t really think it was his. I think she somehow thought it had either been hidden in their apartment before they moved in, or perhaps elves did it. Don’t really know. But she was a big help in finding you, I can tell you that much.”
Then she asks the question he has been dreading and really doesn’t want to answer, even though it’s over. He just can’t fathom how it all slipped through the cracks and he isn’t sure he wants to talk about it with her. But she asks.
“Was it just Trixie and me?”
Deep breath.
“No. He’d been roughing up women for about three months. At least we tied him to this recent spate of assaults for sure. ” He waits as she nods slowly, the realization sinking in that she likely knew others who were also part of this nightmare. “And he’d been killing for longer than that. That bus he took you to? He apparently liked to keep his victims there. He’d shave off their fingertips for a souvenir. Sometimes keep a piece of jewelry. But then he’d stash their bodies on the bus like he was going to drive them all to prom or something.”
Alex’s eyes are wide and she just shakes her head slowly for a moment.
“There’s more. We’re still looking at all the angles, and I’m just going to trust you won’t be speaking to reporters about this, okay?” he asks with a semi-severe look. When she points to her face, he chuckles a ‘Yeah’ and then gets serious. “Some of the bodies were pretty old. Older than would make sense to be included in his list of victims. We still have DNA testing and matching to complete, but forensics thinks at least one body, that of the “driver” if you will, was a male.”
Alex leaves her eyes wide and tries to plead for more info.
“We’ve got nothing solid to go on at the moment, but his father did disappear some time ago.”
“Holy shit.”
Their reunion is interrupted as a nurse enters the room to gather vitals and offer up the dose of pain medicine prescribed by the doctor when she finally woke up. 
Walter reads off the “don’t need it” chat from the tablet and the nurse insists.
“For one, we want to stay ahead of the pain in these first few days while you’re still recovering and are under close supervision. And for two, this is gonna knock you out so you can keep getting the rest you need to fully recuperate. You think laying around in bed being waited on hand and foot is a cush job? You’ve got hard work ahead of you.”
Walter chuckles at the comment and turns to Alex. 
“She’s right. I should let you sleep.”
He barely gets the two sentences out before she’s tapping away at the tablet again.
“You’ll come back though, right?”
He can’t believe she feels like she even needs to ask, but he replies with his heart wide open, “Yeah, yeah. Of course! I’ve gotta get back to the precinct, but I’ll be back this evening and I’ll stay as long as they let me.”
“Good. I wanna introduce you to Drew. Properly.”
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Two weeks later
“Is that my car?” Alex taps out on her phone as Walter pulls into the parking lot of her apartment building. She’s passed all the tests the hospital deemed necessary before they would release her, and while her head is still a mess of wires and bandages, the rest of her is operating just fine. He still wants to carry her, protect her, but she won’t let him, opening the door and climbing down from the cab of the truck as soon as she hands him the phone to read.
He growls and hops out as quickly as he can once he realizes what she’s done, grabbing her bag from the back seat and meeting her around the front of the truck. He passes her the phone then gently takes her elbow to remind her he’s there whenever she needs him.
“Yeah, Sy finished it up and dropped it off for you.”
She leans her shoulder into his chest in a silent thanks as they enter the building and wait for the elevator. Walter won’t let her climb the stairs and she is almost grateful except it’s one more reminder that she isn’t fully self-sufficient yet, and probably won’t be for a while. 
She starts physical therapy soon to help with the dizziness and balance issues she’s been having as a result of the concussion. Walking up and down a hallway a few times to escape the hospital was one thing. Three flights of stairs isn’t happening.
Mrs. Travers is waiting at her door when they step out of the elevator, hands clasped in gratitude that Alex is back.
“Oh honey! I’m so glad you are home. I made you some cookies and gave them to that nice young man staying in your apartment.”
On cue, Drew opens the door.
“There he is now. Did you save Alex some cookies, young man?”
“I put them in the freezer for when she can chew again, if that’s okay?” Drew answers patiently.
“Well, yes. Of course. Or I can just make more I suppose.” She turns to Walter. “Now, you just watch yourself, you. I don’t want you getting Alex into any more trouble.”
Walter takes a deep breath because he knows from his conversations with Alex that Mrs. Travers has a bit of a faulty memory and there is no need to try to explain to her that it wasn’t his fault Alex wound up in her predicament, no matter how he still feels about it. Alex won’t let him take any blame.
“Of course not, ma’am. We’re keeping her safe and sound here for you. Cross my heart.”
“Very good.” With that she steps into her apartment while Walter and Alex enter across the hall and everyone but Alex says see you soon while the doors close.
Walter settles Alex on the couch while Drew offers her a glass of water with a long straw. He and Walter talk a bit about the discharge and recovery schedule, with Alex typing notes and comments every now and then.
“Alright, well. I’ll get out of your hair and over to the hotel. I’ll be back tomorrow, Alex. Okay?” Drew waits for her to tap out ok and i love you and thnx for everything before he turns to grab his own overnight bag and leaves.
She turns the phone toward Walter when he comes back from seeing Drew out and shows him the next message.
“Need a bath badly. A real one. Those sponge baths were for shit.”
“On it.”
Walter gets the water running at the right temperature, then returns to the living room to lead Alex into the bathroom. 
She can’t type while he’s undressing her and helping her into the tub, sinking as far into the warm water as she can without getting the head bandages wet. Can’t type while he’s soaking a washcloth and lathering it up, rubbing it along her legs, her arms, her torso, her back when she leans forward at his urging. Can’t type when he dips the cloth into the water to rinse off the soap, then holds it over her body and squeezes to let the water wash the suds away. Definitely can’t type when he “drops” the cloth between her legs and plunges his arm in after it.
Walter can see the way her eyes light up as he pretends to feel around for the washcloth with his fingers nudging her folds gently. He gives a little smirk and eyebrow raise in question, to which Alex sighs and nods and closes her eyes.
Walter would think the water would wash away any natural moisture, but she’s slick and ready for him when he finally slides a finger inside her while he gently presses her chest with his free hand so she settles against the back of the tub. He drags his hand over a breast, rolling the nipple, gently pinching, squeezing a little harder when she arches into it.
He’s also pressed another finger inside her and he swallows hard, relishing the feel of her soft, warm center and all its nooks and crannies. He closes his eyes with a wish that he could put his mouth on hers while he works to make her feel as good as he can under the circumstances.
Walter opens his eyes when he feels her hand on his cheek and the droplets of water dripping from her arm that fall on his neck. Alex’s eyes are soft and pleading, needy even, fluttering closed each time he brushes against her spot, teasing her and drawing out the pleasure.
He leans toward her and whispers with a low growl, “I’m gonna make you come with my fingers and then I’m gonna get you out of this tub and into your bed and I’m gonna do the same thing with my mouth.”
The way she whimpers “mmhm” finishes the job of getting him hard, but he barely cares how he’s gonna get off. He only wants to see her glowing for him. It’s all he cares about right now.
Her breath is hitching and her moans are as loud as they can be through closed lips and he watches her close her eyes while he stretches his fingers deep inside her, twisting and curling and caressing her spongy center while his thumb rubs against her sensitive clit. He can feel Alex clench around his fingers, feel her core temperature rise ever so slightly when the waves of her pleasure start to take over. Walter barely registers the splashes of water that have hit the floor and his jeans.
When she comes down, he helps her up. Opens the drain and grabs a fluffy towel from the bar, wrapping her in it and his arms. He helps her step out of the tub, aware that she’s more lightheaded than usual and grateful she realizes it, too. She would normally be protesting his assistance, but her moans right now are all residual rapture. He can’t wait to hear more.
She lets him lift her, her knees and back cradled into his arms as he carries her into the bedroom and gently deposits her on the bed. Walter pulls his shirt off and is about to unbutton his jeans when she covers his hands with hers and moves him out of her way.
Alex keeps her eyes trained on him while she pops the button and drags the zipper down slowly, easing it over his solid bulk. She watches the relief wash over him when the warmth of her palm finds its way into his briefs and around the flesh of his cock. She is pleased he’s letting her stroke him like this.
Walter fights the urge to close his eyes and relish her touch but he wants to watch. She squeezes him just right, but her hand isn’t sliding as easily as he’d like so he grabs her wrist and pulls her palm to his mouth quickly before she can even begin to think he wants her to stop.
He tongues her hand, a little like he wants to do to her pussy, leaving a swath of spit she now realizes she can use to keep jerking him off. He just shakes his head slowly at the way he lucked into this woman who wants him so badly.
He doesn’t want to come before he gets her one more time, so he peels her hand away again and eases her back before kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants all the way down. He steps out of them as he climbs onto the bed and positions himself between her legs. Walter watches as Alex drapes her hands over her chest and drags one hand down as if to show him where he needs to be.
He catches her fingers with his tongue and gladly lets her rub her own pearl while he laps at her open sex. Every now and then he nudges her fingers with his nose and moves her out of the way so he can suck her clit and press the tip of his tongue against her. When he does, Alex pushes her own fingers deep inside and pumps slowly while she waits for him to drag his tongue back down into her pussy.
When she comes her knees clamp hard around his head and he holds them in place, savoring every drop and scooping some of her essence onto his fingers so he can reach down between his belly and the sheets and finish himself off while she finally comes back down.
He’s memorized the recovery schedule the doctor provided and he can’t wait to make up all the kisses they’re missing when it's safe but in the meantime, he’s gonna be content to crawl up next to her and wrap her in his arms and fall asleep in a post-orgasmic daze. He’ll let her chat how fucked out she feels tomorrow.
Taglist: (If you asked for a tag and it’s not here, Tumblr likely isn’t letting me tag you. Ask if you want me to try again.)
Chapter 9
Anything: @kittenofdoomage @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit​ (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @anotherwinchesterfangirl​ @sebbytrash​ @feelmyroarrrr​)
NM: @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @kingliam2019​ @henryownsme​ @littlefreya​  @marantha​ @angelcavill66​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @liveoncoffeeandflowersss​ @greensleeves888​ @dinoswierdmom​ @geralts-yenn​ @wabi-sabi1090​ @bourbonwithice​ (@used-to-be-bourbonwithice @identity2212 these don’t work for me, sorry!)
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jkstompers · 4 years ago
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passing notes | jjk
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pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader
summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 
genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!
warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’
word count: 9k
author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (T▽T) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah
additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)
okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)
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it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 
he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 
jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 
so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 
meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 
[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭
[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖
[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 
[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really
[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺
[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie
[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 
[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 
[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 
[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 
the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 
you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 
“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 
your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 
it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 
you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 
maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 
you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 
you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 
when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 
feeling okay? 
you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 
jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 
yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 
this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 
you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 
i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 
you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 
jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 
i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 
check: ◯  yes ◯ no 
jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 
so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 
⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 
the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 
you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 
you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 
he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 
you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 
jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 
“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 
“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 
“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 
he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 
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jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 
he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 
a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 
the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 
[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 
[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late
[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up
[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 
[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 
[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha
[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3
jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 
the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 
“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  
you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 
he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 
“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 
“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 
“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 
“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 
you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 
he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 
jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 
with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 
“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 
it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 
“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 
this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 
the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 
with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 
jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 
“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 
“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 
“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 
to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 
you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 
the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 
“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 
jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 
the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 
you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 
“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 
at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 
you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 
“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 
but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 
it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 
“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 
he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 
the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 
you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 
you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 
when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 
jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 
he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 
you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 
jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 
neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 
when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 
you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 
jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).
he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 
“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 
his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 
the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 
it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 
“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“
“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“
“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 
he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 
you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”
a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 
to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 
“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 
you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 
“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 
“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 
he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.
but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 
“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 
you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 
he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 
“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.
“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 
you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 
“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.
“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 
he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”
you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up
you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 
jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 
he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 
you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 
jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 
“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 
“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 
you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 
“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 
“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  
“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 
“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  
you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 
your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 
“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 
“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 
it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 
“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 
jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 
he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 
“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 
“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 
“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 
“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 
he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 
you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 
lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 
“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 
you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 
 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 
you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 
“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 
you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 
he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 
“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”
“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 
you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 
“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 
his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 
you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 
jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 
you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 
jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 
“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 
“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 
you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 
“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 
he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 
he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 
you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 
you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 
[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 
[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 
[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you
[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 
[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay
[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂
[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie
[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 
[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 
[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 
[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 
[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 
[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 
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。゚(゚^O^゚)゚。 tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland
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atticsandwitch · 3 years ago
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Obey me characters with an MC who does reckless things because they're afraid of being a burden.
Self indulgent, comfort, angst Less headcannons, more drabbles.
First, in a group chat without MC: House of Lamentation (7) Satan: I just found MC in the kitchen, trying to open a can with a chef knife. Mammon: WHAT Mammon: Why would they wanna do something like that?? Asmo: (Wide eyed emoji) Belphie: Yea, that's stupid even for Mammon Mammon: HEY! Satan: They couldn't find the can opener, and they said they didn't want to bother anyone. Levi: That's actually kind of cute. Levi: It's just like the main character of this anime I just started watching who acts really tough and independent, but deep down is afraid to ask for help and just wants to be loved! Satan: That's not all Lucifer: it's not? Satan: Solomon saw MC yesterday climbing the bookshelves in the RAD library. Satan: Apparently they'd reached the sixth shelf before he could levitate them and the book they needed back to the ground. Beel: Are all humans like this? Lucifer: No. It seems we've found a particularly troublesome one. Levi: Actually I saw them do something similar earlier this week. Asmo: Oh no. Asmo: I bet Mammon's having a heart attack rn Mammon: (sweaty nervous emoji) Levi: They were standing on the counter trying to reach something on the top of the cabinets waaaay in the back. Belphie: That's not that bad Levi: They were also standing on an upside down pot because they were still too short. Levi: and they were wearing heels. Lucifer: Everyone, make sure to keep an eye on MC as often as possible
Lucifer
Sighs out loud reading the group chat
"And here I thought I would just have to protect MC from demon attacks"
He decides to have a talk with you once he gets a little time, and not just about safety. He has a whole lecture planned out about climbing the book cases at RAD.
Unfortunately he's swamped with paperwork and bills to go through, so he doesn't have the chance to talk to you right away.
The next day, however, you're all invited to the Demon Lord's Castle for another overnight retreat, or event of some sort.
Everyone is having fun and causing a ruckus, as usual, and at some point during the evening the group loses you.
You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, but the palace is so huge you get lost even with directions. At a certain point you know you can find your way back and ask for help, but you can't bring yourself to, and decide to press on to try to find it yourself.
Eventually you find yourself standing in front of an ornate mirror with no reflection. You stop and ponder it for a moment, and as you're about to step away you hear a whisper. You can't make out what it says, but it compels you to step closer. In a corner of the reflected room you notice what looks like a puppet made of bone, with blackened eyes.
"~MC~..." An ethereal whisper, "...c...l...oser..." and in a blink of your eye it's closer to you, and you've stepped closer without realizing it.
Your heart is racing, but you can't stop yourself from reaching out to the mirror. Is it really a mirror...? Another blink and the bone puppet is closer. It tilts it's head at you, and outstretches an arm.
You try to pull back, but realize you can't, you're now mirroring the actions of the puppet as it steps closer, and closer.
Suddenly your vision goes black and you're pulled backwards by the waist, away from the mirror.
After a moment, Lucifer removes his gloved hand from over your eyes, and spins you to face him. He looks worried, frightened almost, but soon regains his composure.
"I thought you were going to the bathroom, MC" He says
It takes you a second to form words again, "I... I was.... I got lost" You had to really think hard about it for a moment.
Lucifer sighs, "You know the castle can be dangerous. If you weren't sure where to go, why not ask someone to show you?"
You were feeling particularly vulnerable after what had just happened, and so decided to be deeply honest, "I'm afraid of being a burden..." you mumble.
He's surprised by the admission, but pulls you close.
"Of all the burdens I've had to shoulder in this life, I promise that you are not one of them, MC" He whispers into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
Mammon
Immediately goes to find you after he finishes reading the group chat.
He finds you doing something dangerous with a knife again, and grabs your wrist to stop you.
"Oi, human!" He only calls you that when he's angry, which is rare, "What do ya think yer doin'?"
"I'm just-" he cuts you off
"I don' wanna hear it!"
"Then why did you ask?" you're stare at him. Mammon's face reddens and he realizes he's still holding your wrist, so he gently takes the knife out of your hand and sets it down.
"I mean- What's goin' on with ya lately? Everyone says yer doin' a buncha dangerous stuff!" He put his hands on his hips and only resumes eye contact as he finishes his sentence.
"What do you-?"
"Like climbin' bookshelves, and whatever this is-!" He gestures to the knife and you look away. You're silent for a while; too long for Mammon to take, "C'mon, MC, talk to me" His voice finally softens, arms dropping to his sides. You finally meet his eyes, and the look of concern on his face is heartbreaking.
"I like doing things myself..." you can tell he's not buying it, "I... I just don't want to be a burden..." You admit quietly, voice wavering somewhat.
His eyes go wide, "...MC..." he says softly. Mammon pulls you in for a tight hug, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, and the other hand resting on the back of your head, and holds you like he'd do anything in the world to protect you, which he would.
"Listen up, 'cuz Mammon's gonna give you some free advice" you hear a sniffle, and realize he's crying.
His human was hurting like this, and he never even noticed. What kinda demon am I? He thought, but he knew this wasn't about him right now, so he held you tighter.
"You will never be a burden to me...Ya got that?"
Leviathan
Thinks its pretty adorable that you actually seem to be a little tsundere.
Because of this, and his social anxiety, he doesn't confront you about it right away. Not until the jellyfish incident anyway.
One night you're hanging out with Levi in his room, when you notice that one of his jelly fish decorations had fallen to the ground. So, you decide to string it back up for him.
You looked around, Levi absorbed in his game, and tried to judge the distance between the edge of the bed-tub and the ceiling. That should do it! you think, and climb the edge of the bed-tub. The edge was difficult to balance on, but you knew you'd be careful, and you could almost reach.
Levi turned around just in time to see you, arms stretched too far over your head and on your tip toes on the edge of the tub, and watched as you lose balance completely. He saw it, you were going to fall backwards toward the other side of the tub and crack your head!
Now, he may not be as fast as Mammon, but he is still a demon after all, and just as you felt the jolt of the fall as your foot slipped, you felt arms around your middle, pulling you forcefully forward.
Leviathan had jumped to your rescue, unconsciously changing into his demon form, discarding his controller unceremoniously to the floor, and in his panic underestimated his own strength.
The two of you ended up both landing on the floor, you on top of a very red Leviathan.
"Wh-wh-what were you doing normie?! You were about to fall and crack your skull on the tub!"
You guiltily hold up the jellyfish, "I was just trying to fix it"
"Well get a ladder next time!" It's taking everything in Levi to ignore the position your both in, because its' just like that time in- nevermind, this is more important.
"All you had to do was say something! I was sitting right there!" He still hasn't let you go. He sees the look on your face change into something he can't quite get a read on, but whatever it is, is also full of sadness. "You could have died just then, MC. Why wouldn't you just ask for some help?" His voice is softer, "I was right there" and softer still, almost desperate.
"I..." He could tell whatever you were about to say was difficult for you, "I'm just so afraid of being a burden"
He's heartbroken, "You're my best friend, my player two, my Henry th-the- the person I love" He goes red again and quickly continues as if to bury the words beneath more words, "You're a lot of things, MC, but you're not a burden"
Asmodeous
Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. But he can't help it.
One night you get home particularly late, and none of the brothers have seen you. They were about to send out a search party when you finally came home.
When he finds out you walked home alone again, and were so late because you got lost, that's when he finally decides to confront you.
"You walked home alone again? And took WHICH street?! MC don't you know how dangerous it is for a human in the Devildom, especially one with no real magical powers? Not to mention in that area!"
How were you supposed to know? You were lost. He knows these things, but doesn't give you a chance to point them out.
"Beel saw you leave right after classes. If you were so lost why didn't you call one of us?" he asks. The worry and exasperation is plain in his voice.
"I..." you start, "I didn't want to bother anyone that's all" but he can tell there's more to it than that.
"Why are you so worried about bothering us? Don't you know we care about you?" He asks, concern slowly turning to sadness.
"I just don't want to be a burden..."
His eyes go wider than before, which you didn't think was possible. "What in the three realms would give you the idea that you're a burden? MC, you're so precious to me, and if anything were to ever happen, I-"
He begins welling up with tears and pulls you into a tight hug.
"MC, I was worried sick. We all were. Please... Come to me when you need help... I love you"
Satan
He walked in and found you trying to use a chef knife to open a can, brought you the can opener, and ultimately left; not entirely sure what to make of the situation yet.
The next time he saw you, you were climbing on top of an unsteady looking stack of books to reach something in the House's library.
Were those one of his stacks? Had you stacked them yourself? It didn't matter. What mattered was that the books all began slipping out from under you.
He rushed over, and caught you with ease as you fell, but your momentum ended up knocking you both to the ground.
He sighs, "What am I going to do with you?"
"Sorry, " you let out an embarrassed laugh, "Are you okay?"
"Yea, and you?" he asks. You nod, and he helps you up. To his confusion you immediately begin stacking the books back up.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, suspicious. It looks like you're about to try to climb the stack again.
"There's a book I need" He was right.
This must be how Lucifer feels. He sighs again, and grabs your hand to stop you.
"You can't keep doing stuff like this, MC. It's dangerous" He looks serious, but his cheeks are a little pink, "I'm worried about you. Why won't you ask for help?"
"I..." You start, but hesitate, averting your eyes.
"Tell me the truth, MC" Satan almost pleads, a sad look in his eyes.
"I don't want to be a burden... that's all..." You say, so quietly it's almost a sigh.
Suddenly it all made sense; the way you tried to hide when you were upset, how you always carried just a little too much, the way you always offered to help, even if there was little work to do... Why hadn't he put the pieces together before now?
"Then, I need you to do something for me" He says, after thinking a moment. He steps closer, "I need you to start asking for help,"
He pulls you close, and hugs you tightly, "I know it'll be difficult, but that's why I'll always be there for you"
He pulls away slightly, still holding you, to look into your eyes. His face is very red now, "I'll do whatever it takes to show you that you're not a burden," Kindness and determination burn in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.
Beelzebub
He was walking down the hall when he spots you down at the other end near an open window.
The wind blew something out of your hand, so you leaned out the window to try to grab it. This is when Beel got worried, his instincts kicked in and he picked up his pace.
Your homework got caught by the wind, but stopped by some of the vines clinging to the House of Lamentation, so you leaned out the window but it was just out of reach. You knew you could get it if you could reach just a little further, so you lean out a little more... Just a little more...
Unfortunately that's when you lost balance, and felt yourself tip forward. You'd be out the window in no time flat, and then you'd be flattened on the ground.
Thankfully Beel was able to grab you by the waist and hoist you back inside to safety.
You thank him, and explain the situation but he still looks confused.
"Why wouldn't you just come get one of us? We could've easily gotten it down for you" he asks.
"I thought I'd be able to reach" you try, with an embarrassed and unconvincing smile.
"Tell me the truth, MC. Why are you so afraid to ask for help?"
"I don't want to be a burden..." You say softly, sadness written plainly on your face and in your voice.
"Oh" You look up and the sad, sympathetic look Beel gives you makes you want to cry. "I know the feeling"
"You do?" You ask, tears beginning to spill over
"You think I don't know how many problems my stomach causes for everyone?" He gives you a slightly more serious look, "But that doesn't matter" And now a reassuring, although still slightly sad smile, "Because the people who love and care about you will never think of you as a burden. And trust me, MC, there are plenty of people who love and care about you"
"Like who?" You didn't want to ask, part of your brain knew the answer, but you just had to silence those negative voices.
Beel blushed, "Like me" he says, then silently wipes the tears from your face and pulls you into the softest, safest hug you've ever felt.
Belphegor
He wasn't worried at all initially. Sure humans are fragile compared to demons, but they're not that fragile. Plus you've survived this long on your own and now you've got demons, angels, a prince, and a sorcerer all looking out for you. Not to mention the way brothers' tend to exaggerate.
He was laying outside under a large tree, intending to try out a new nap spot, when he saw you leaning out of the window.
He smiled and was about to wave when he realized something was wrong. You were leaning too far out of the window. You were going to-
He jolted upright like he'd been hit by lightning as he watched you lose your balance
He already knew there was no way he'd be able to make it to you in time, even with demonic speed.
Thankfully Beel was there. Belphie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he saw Beel pull you back inside and got up to go make sure you're alright.
He realizes his brothers were right to be worried, and he's angry about it.
You're on your way back to your room by the time he catches up with you, but he can see that your eyes are red from crying, and his anger evaporates. He asks you what's wrong, and you explain everything.
Why you almost fell out the window, your conversation with Beel, and how you're afraid of being a burden.
"Well, Beel's right, you could never be a burden to any of us" He says, so don't even worry about it" he says, giving you an easy smile, despite how sad he felt for his human.
"That's... Easier said than done..." You reply, unconvinced.
"That's why I'll always be by your side, MC. I won't even give you the chance to worry about it!"
He pulls you into a hug and strokes your hair, starting the waterworks all over again. He'll hold you until you've calmed down again, and then pull you up to the attic where you two can make a pillow fort and nap.
He'll probably also start a tickle fight just to hear you laugh again.
Btw, who made you feel this way, MC, he just wants to murder torture talk.
Diavolo
Lucifer has shared his concerns, as he often does, so Diavolo is aware of your reckless nature. He finds it somewhat amusing, but mostly concerning.
It's during one of the events that he finally witnesses it for himself.
He always found it sweet how you tried to help everyone, and you were doing it again. You were running around helping all of the brothers with everything. He doesn't know how those seven managed without you before you came to the Devildom, and the way they rely on you is more than a little amusing.
This time you were helping Asmo with decorations, but he seemed to have disappeared somewhere, no doubt to fix his makeup, or to take a break to avoid sweating too much.
When Diavolo walked in his eyes went wide. You were using progressively taller stacks of chairs to climb the tallest stack in the room in order to hang decorations on the ceiling, and your arms were so full of supplies that there was no way you could balance properly on the already unsteady stacks.
He'd already made it to the base of the stacks when the one you were on started to wobble.
"MC!" he called out in a panic, but this seemed to startle you, and the jolt caused you, the stack of chairs, and all your decorations to come crashing down.
Diavolo caught you effortlessly, and shielded you from any flying chairs in the process.
"Mc, are you okay?" He asks, eyes still wide, "what in the Devildom were you thinking?"
"Sorry, I was just trying to help" you say
He feels anger towards the brothers creeping in the back of his mind. That they would leave you alone, with so much work, and still none of them are to be found after such a loud crash; it's unacceptable. But he pushes those thoughts back for now.
"That was dangerous, even for a demon. You could have been seriously injured just now," The look of concern on his face tugs at your heart.
"Sorry" you mumble again, "You can put me down, now... I should start cleaning up"
"Forgive me for being selfish," He smiles a little, "But I don't think I want to put you down just yet. The clean up can wait"
Your face reddens. You're not sure what to say to that, but you can't deny that it feels good to be held like this in his strong arms.
He looks briefly around at the mess of scattered chairs and decorations that you had intended to hang and clean up by yourself, "Tell me, MC," He looks back to you, "You seem to have a hard time asking for help, why is that?"
You're surprised by the directness of the question, and look away. He notices, and feels a bit guilty, but knows that if things continue the way they are, you will definitely get hurt one day.
"I guess it's because... I'm afraid of being a burden" you answer honestly. You feel that you owe him that much.
"I see..." He hums, then smiles happily, "Then perhaps I should carry you around until you admit that you are not a burden!"
"WHAT?" the look on your face makes him laugh heartily.
"Just kidding!" He chuckles, "...Maybe"
"Diavolo that's- I-"
"You are extraordinary, MC," There's a serious look on his face now, "In fact I could describe you in a million different ways, but the word 'burden' would never be among them"
He begins walking out of the room, still carrying you in his arms.
"What are you doing? What about the decorations?"
"I think I'd like to keep you to myself for the day, if that's alright with you, my dear" Diavolo smiles down at you.
As you two walk down the hall, away from the ballroom you hear the brothers' voices as they enter, "Whoa? What the heck happened in here?" Mammon exclaims.
Barbatos
He had invited you for tea, and you offered to help Barbatos make and serve it.
You try to carry too much, and in your rush drop the entire tray, shattering the beautiful tea set and all of the plates of desserts.
"I'm so sorry!" You immediately bend down and begin tying to pick up the pieces, "I'll replace it-" You stop as you realize that you're not sure you could even afford to replace a royal tea set.
"Allow me to help" Barbatos says, bending down.
"No, no, it's fine! I can get it!" You look up and give him an unconvincing smile, and while you're not paying attention to what you're doing, you slice your hand open on one of the sharp pieces of porcelain.
Barbatos pulls a roll of gauze and bandages out of one of his pockets, "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?" he says, but you're still picking up pieces with your other hand.
"I can do it, I just-..."
"It's only a tea set," As Barbatos stills your frantic hands, he notices your tears.
"I'm sorry," You finally say after a long moment of silence, during which he begins bandaging your injured hand, "I tried to help, but I was still only a burden after all..." Barbatos is surprised by this admission, to say the least.
"You should know that It makes me very happy to be able help and take care of people. I especially enjoy the way your face lights up with a tinge of surprise whenever I do something for you that you are not expecting..." He pauses in thought, and looks as though he's realized something that makes him sad, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. He finishes bandaging your hand, and places his on the side of your face.
"MC, It is a pleasure, and genuinely brings me joy to be able to do things for you. Please allow me to help you more often."
He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dries your tears.
He leads you to sit in a comfortable chair, "Please, rest until you feel better, and allow me to take complete care of you today"
He makes some tea and food for you both to share and makes sure you don't have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, leaving the broken tea set completely forgotten on the floor in the other room for the time being.
He always has kind words for you whenever you see each other, and while he enjoys your help in the kitchen, he always makes sure not to let you do too much, and he never lets you clean up.
He takes extra care of you from now on, and Diavolo finds it absolutely adorable, though he may be a tiny bit jealous.
Solomon
You might've actually given this man a heart attack.
He would've thought it was funny if it hadn't looked like the bookshelf was about to come crashing down on top of you.
"Don't worry! I'm used to climbing things; I'm careful!" You try to convince him, "That does not, in fact, make me feel any better, MC"
He dedicates time to teaching you a levitation spell or two, depending on your magical abilities, so you don't have to climb things any more.
As he's teaching you he decides to ask you about the book shelf incident.
"Something's been on my mind lately" He says, turning to you as you practice. You ask him what it is as you turn your attention to his face and notice that he looks troubled. "The other day, in the library. You knew I was there, sitting nearby... Why didn't you just ask for my help?"
"Oh, I just thought I could get the book myself" That wasn't the answer he was looking for, so he presses on.
"But surely it would've been easier to use a ladder, then. wouldn't it?"
"Well... I- uh- wasn't sure where they were" you sounded a little embarrassed, and turned your attention back to the spell.
Solomon looks a little saddened, "Hmm..." he pauses. You didn't want his help and you didn't even want to ask him a simple question? "MC, is there a reason you didn't want to ask me for help?" Watching you, he saw that the question gave you pause.
"I... have a hard time asking for help sometimes..." You admit, hoping that's the end of it. But of course, it isn't.
"Oh?" he gently prompts you to explain.
He can tell that you're only pretending to pay attention to the spell now, to avoid eye contact, "I've just always been afraid of being a burden"
His face grows sadder for a moment, but you continue to avoid his gaze. He folds his arms, and moves a closed fist to his chin in thought.
"I think that sometimes, not asking for help can be more of a burden" he says, finally catching your attention. You look up questioningly and he continues in a gentle voice, "Think about it, you're placing too much of the burden on yourself, which is making everyone around you worry. And besides that, what if you get hurt? Then you'll need more help from others than you would have in the first place"
It's your turn to look troubled. You hadn't realized that you were worrying everyone, or that you were causing them trouble.
He lets you think for a moment, before placing a comforting hand on your back.
"MC, it's okay to rely on others. People like it when you ask for help. It makes them feel special to you" He says, and when you look up he's giving you one of the kindest smiles you've ever seen on this shady magic boomer's face.
He hopes you catch his little hint, I want to feel special to you, MC
"Thank you, Solomon. I'd never thought of it that way" you smile back, "I'll try to ask for your help more often"
"I'll look forward to it!" He says with an even brighter smile.
Simeon
He noticed just in time; you had decided to walk home alone again and two suspicious looking demons were about to corner you down an alley.
You were scared, you think they had been following you for at least a couple blocks, and now you had nowhere to go. You were at a dead end.
"You two want to leave." A familiar voice, "NOW." Simeon was smiling, but he looked so intimidating in the shadow of the alley, and something ominous was also radiating off of him. Was he angry?
"C'mon it's not worth it" one of the demons said, "Killjoy" said the other. Simeon watches them leave with an intimidating expression before finally approaching you.
"MC, are you alright?" He asks, features now full of concern.
"Yea! Thanks for that, I was starting to get a little worried"
The concern on his face grows, didn't you know how much danger you'd been in just then? "Those two had been following you for a while... Why didn't you call out for help? Or call someone on your D.D.D?"
"Well... I- I just thought maybe they were walking in the same direction, so I wasn't sure..." You sounded nervous.
How could you be unsure? Simeon had never seen a more suspicious looking pair of demons in his life, and if you'd heard what they were saying they wanted to do to you, you'd understand why he was angry. He sighs.
He notices you're shaking, ever so slightly. Maybe you had overheard... You seemed to be more shaken than you were trying to let on.
In the silence he realizes that this part of town wouldn't be part of your normal route back to the House of Lamentation, "Were you lost?" You nod. "Why not ask for directions?" He asks
"Everyone was so busy when I left RAD... I didn't want to bother them. They're always taking care of me as it is... I just thought..."
So that's why you were walking home alone
"I'll walk you back then" he offers you his hand, and you want to take it, but to his surprise you can't bring yourself to.
"That's alright! You've already done so much for me. I'm sure I can find my way home now!" You try to force a smile, but Simeon can see right through you.
"MC... What's really going on?" His face is serious again but his voice is kind as he steps closer and rests a hand on your shaking arm.
You can't hold back tears any more, "I... Just don't... want to be a burden... to anyone" The quiet words break Simeon's heart.
Who could've made you feel this way?
He draws you into a strong, gentle hug, cradling the back of your head to hold you closer and stroke your hair.
"Don't ever think like that, MC" He breathes into your ear, "You are so loved"
Luke
You're going to give this smoll baby angel a heart attack, and there's not much he can even do to about it.
You were carrying too much, like you always do, and Luke noticed almost too late.
You were heading straight for the stairs, and your books and supplies were stacked too high for you to see!
"MC, LOOK OUT!" he shouts.
You stop just as your foot passes the threshold of the first stair and you feel the drop.
You drop everything you're carrying, but thanks to Luke's warning you stopped your own momentum before you could tumble down the stairs with everything else.
Relief floods through Luke as you stare at the mess, shaken and disheartened by the prospect of the clean up.
He runs to you, demanding to know that you're okay.
Of course he helps you clean up and carries as much as he can for you.
He's always offering to carry things for you now, even if all you have is a book or two.
He keeps a nervous eye on you from now on too.
Give this poor baby angel a hug.
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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago
Note
Hi! I hope it's not too late but can you maybe do 2,3 and 5 from the prompt list?? maybe like reader is having a hard time with spencer always being on cases so she asks for some time, then makes him his favorite meal when she decides to stay with him and tell him she loves him?? if not it's ok, I hope you have a great day!! <33
Like You Deserve
Summary: Your boyfriend isn’t letting you in and you’re tired of it. Let’s see how well he does without you.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/warnings: angst with happy ending, swearing
Word Count: 0.9k
A/N: okay so i thought i was following @g0lden-cth ‘s suggestion but i kinda wasn’t which is just proof i do not have an eidetic memory like reid. the prompts are still included though! FINAL CALL FOR PROMPT REQUESTS (CLOSING WED 5/12). i was gonna close them earlier but now it’s my 300 follower celebration!!!
Masterlist
You heard the apartment door open as you were pulling the lasagna out of the oven.
“Hey!” you called out, “I made your favorite just the way you like!”
“I just need some time to myself,” Spencer spoke and then you heard the bedroom door close.
You sighed. Was it really that hard for him to just thank you for once? To appreciate everything you do for him?
You silently ate dinner at the counter by yourself, waiting for Spencer’s mood to pass. You washed the dishes and made a plate for him to reheat when he was ready.
It had been two hours and Spencer was still in there. You knocked quietly on the door.
“What did I say?” he snapped.
Oh, that is it, you thought and swung the door open.
“You know what, Spencer? I was coming in here to check up on you because I actually care about you but now, whatever you need, get it yourself. I am so sick of this relationship being completely one-sided. If you had even bothered to ask, you would know that I got passed up for the promotion that I have been working my ass off for for months but I still came home and cooked dinner for you because you told me it was a rough case. And you know what I got in return? Not even a text letting me know when you were going to be home and a fucking attitude that I definitely don’t deserve. So that’s it, I’m done. Have a nice life, Spencer, cause I’m done trying to fit myself into it.”
You slammed the bedroom door shut and quickly collected your things before leaving the apartment.
-
“Y/N?” you heard someone call out from next to you in the loud bar.
You turned around and cringed a little when you saw Spencer standing in front of you. His hair had definitely grown out a lot since the last time that you saw him and he now had stubble along his jawline.
“Spencer...it’s been a while,” you smiled politely and sipped your drink, beginning to turn your stool away from this awkward encounter.
“Um, I guess congratulations are in order,” Spencer said.
“Hm?” you asked, looking down to where his eyes were.
You were at your best friend’s bachelorette party and she asked you to hold her sash while she went to the bathroom.
“Oh um yes, it appears they are.”
You went along with it. It was better for him to think you were doing well after the breakup when in fact all you had gotten were a few lousy dates that didn’t lead anywhere.
“Well I wish you the best,” he smiled softly, “I should get back to my team.”
You nodded, “Bye, Spencer.”
-
You had just gotten home and changed into sweats when there was a rapid knocking on your door.
You opened it, assuming one of the girls had left something at your apartment when you were getting ready for the club beforehand.
Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw a very frantic-looking Spencer standing in front of you.
“Oh thank god, you still live here. Despite the fact that I may get beat up for saying this if they are home,” Spencer tried to peek into the apartment before returning his gaze to you, “Don’t marry them, please. I was far from the best boyfriend in the past so I know I can’t offer you much but I do love you.”
“Spencer, you can’t just show up months later and tell me this. You just want me now because you can’t have me,” you tried to shut the door.
He put his foot in to jam it, “Y/N, I had no idea how much you were doing for me until you were gone. And I don’t want you back just to keep doing those things for me, I want you back so I can do all those things for you. You were constantly showing me love when I was an asshole and giving you nothing in return. I want to prove my love now if you let me have a second chance, you won’t ever have to lift a finger.”
“Spencer, I’m not calling off the wedding,” you spoke softly.
Spencer released his foot from the door, “Okay, I respect your decision. I’m so sorry things between us ended this way and it’s entirely my fault. I treated you so poorly and I regret it every day. I hope they make you happy, you deserve a lifetime of it,” he smiled softly with tears brimming in his eyes.
“I-I’m going to go,” he turned around and headed down the stairs.
“I can’t call off a wedding that didn’t exist in the first place,” you added.
“What?” he perked up.
“I was holding the sash for a friend. Technically, I never lied though, I said ‘it appears so’,” you grinned.
Spencer quickly ran back up to your door, wiping away the tears in his eyes.
“Y/N, will you let me make it up to you and treat you like you deserve?” Spencer asked.
“I will agree to a date. We can’t just go back to how it was before,” you replied.
“I’ll cook you your favorite meal and then bake dessert and I’ll buy you every single bouquet of flowers the florist has,” Spencer smiled.
A/N: part 2...eventually???...maybe??? we’ll see if people actually like it
taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129
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losolvidad0s · 4 years ago
Text
Culebra, A. Reyes
Summary: When you learn of EZ’s DEA deal, your relationship with Angel is put on the line. 
warnings: swearing, a n g s t 😩 
word count: 1.7K
a/n: hi everyone! I am slowing jumping back into the writing groove so here is an angsty Angel Reyes fic that made my heart crack right down the middle, wahhh. Love my emo baby Angel. Enjoy! Thank you for +350 followers!
taglist: @cind-in-real-life  @kchavez666  @dearsamcrobae  @courtrae89 @cocotheclown  @brattyfics  @gemini0410  @angelreyesgirl  @jasmine10128  @briana-mishell24   @starrynite7114 @est1887  @joannasteez​  @amorestevens​  @bidenbussy​  @empireroyals​ (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!)
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(gif belongs to @haydenpanettieres ✨)
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“Please, EZ, tell me this is some kind of sick joke.”
EZ looks at you with soft eyes, a defeated expression painted over his face as he remains stoic. If there was a chance this was a prank then you’d just wait til the boyish grin forms on his lips but that never comes. He brings his hands to hold the front of his kutte, a defense mechanism of his. 
A heaviness settles in your chest and the pit of your stomach as his words begin to replay in your mind. He tries to give you an apologetic look as you process everything. After a few moments, the worry turns into frustration then quickly to anger.
“I made a deal with the Drug Enforcement Administration that got my sentence reduced to half by becoming a part of the Mayans MC to get Intel on the Galindo Cartel.”
Your hands push against EZ’s chest, which he wasn’t expecting, causing him to stumble back. The shoves keep coming the angrier you get. “Y/N, stop.” He tries to get ahold on your wrist to stop you but the adrenaline fuels you to be quicker than him for a brief moment.
Eventually, he is able to grasp and hold your wrist steady between the two of you and as you try to break free, you cry out. “How could you? How could you do that to him? Why, EZ?!” The break in your voice when you scream his name makes him let go and step back. Your face now wet with tears, voice well on its way to becoming hoarse. 
“I had to, it was the only way. If I didn’t then..”
You scoff, “Then what? You’d have to finish your sentence? You choose to hurt your brother rather than finishing YOUR sentence that you got YOURSELF into? How selfish of you. You disgust me!” Your shoulder harshly collides with his as you walk off.
When EZ had asked to grab dinner, you didn’t expect it to end this way. After getting a bite to eat at a favorite food truck, he took a different route back to Angel’s apartment, saying he needed a friend. You thought it could be him needing to talk about how things have been hectic in the MC. Being a prospect and all.
“Y/N.” He calls out to you as you walk away from him in the darkness, you don’t go very far though. You feel defeated knowing all of this is only going to end one way, Angel’s heart being broken. You slowly turn back, “He’s gonna hate me.” Your voice barely above a whisper.  
This relationship with Angel has been a rocky one. It’s been on and off for the past year but when EZ was released from prison and began prospecting for the MC it somehow helped Angel to establish a foundation with you, opening his eyes in some way. He saw how loyal you were to him and that you were the only constant. But with this, that could jeopardize it all.
EZ watches you as a million thoughts run through your mind. He can see that you’ve been holding your breath for sometime now, “You can’t tell him.” You couldn’t believe you were saying it. Whose side are you on anyways? Would this be considered fraternizing with the enemy by asking him to keep quiet? 
His brows crease as he steps forward, “Whaddaya mean, Y/N? I have to, eventually. The DEA, they need intel and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this under the radar without risking someone getting caught under the bus. Me or them.”
“EZ, this will break him beyond repair. I can’t lose him to this. I worked very hard to get him to want me the way he does now. And the second he realizes I knew, I’m dirt to him. I can’t have that. So no, don’t tell him. You can figure out a way to keep this under water while still holding up your end of the bargain.” You plead to him, having moved closer. He searches your eyes and gently nods. A small smile appears on your lips as a rugged breath breaks through. EZ wraps his arms around you as you cry.
For a while, you thought this could all work out. It was going so well that you almost forgot about all of it. Then came the night where Angel mentioned something unexpected came up with the MC and that he’d be off the radar til the next day. It didn’t come off as worrisome with you as you’ve gotten used to these kinds of things. But then came the following morning. 
You were making your way to Angel’s apartment, surprising him with breakfast. As you go to knock the door opens and a visibly angry Angel is standing there, a pile of your clothes bundled in his arms. “Angel?”
“Ah. perfect timing, here.” He drops it at your feet with force and disappears into the apartment. You stand through shocked for a moment before stumbling over the clothes to follow him. You call out his name as you set down the bag and two coffees.  
He appears once again, more clothes and your bathroom bag. He flies it towards you, you trying to catch it but failing to. You have no idea what’s going on. But he mumbles something under his breath. Culebra. As if the air in the room suddenly begins to run out, barely any left to breath it hits you all at once. Angel continues to drop things at your feet.
“Angel…” You begin but he stops in front of you, his towering figure making you peer up at him. He starts to move towards you, an instinct of yours to keep out of harm's way and in this instant harm seems to be Angel. “Baby, talk to me.”
He bites his bottom lip, letting out a low chuckle, “I got nothing to say to you. In fact, it’s almost like when you had nothing to say to me. Boy scout and pops, I could see that coming. But you? Keeping a secret like that from me. For 2 fucking weeks?”
The venom is dripping off his tongue with hurt gleaming in his eyes.
You attempt to reach out and touch him, you being a physical lover rather than a verbal kind, but he pushes it away, “I trusted you, I opened my life to you despite being sketched out to do but I fucking did but you! You’re the one who can’t even be honest with me. It was always ‘It’s Angel’s fault, you dig yourself in these holes, Angel. Be real with me, Angel.’ But look, my own fucking girlfriend.”
The heat is literally radiating off him. But what excuse do you have? You shared his frustrations when EZ first told you but you became selfish and decided to keep quiet about it. You wanted the good times to keep rolling and because of the selfishness, it’s all crashing. 
Angel steps away from you, “I wanted to tell you. I did!”
“But you fucking didn’t. You choose him over me, you did that knowing it meant Ezekiel over Angel! No hesitation.’ He screams at you, pointing his fingers.
A sob falls from your lips as you see him breaking like a tide taking away a sandcastle. It hurts more than you imagined it would. The outcome of telling him would’ve been immensely better than this one. Why did you think it could all go away and never come to light?
“That’s not true! Of course I thought about it.. I was upset that he would do something like that to you, I truly was but,” You nearly stutter trying to get your words out. 
There were many occasions that you’ve seen Angel mad. Countless arguments, disagreements, petty acts but never like this. “But what? Hm? What, Y/N?!” He strides back over to you, getting in your face as you flinch back on instinct. 
You’re quiet, averting your eyes from him. “But then I’d lose you. That’s what I was scared of.”
Angel tilts his head, “That doesn’t even make any sense, Y/N. You think I would be angry at you because of what my brother did? I’m pissed because you knew and decided not to tell me. You walked around acting like you didn’t know. I have every right to be mad! And besides that, how fucking selfish of you, thinking of you and not how it would hurt me.”
“I was scared because your brother betrayed you, because by EZ doing this it would remind you of the hurt you felt growing up. It would make you feel like you used to… which means you would lose yourself, I would lose you right in front me. And I want all of you, good and bad, but w-we had just gotten to a good place. We weren't arguing as much a-and I had been slowly leaving more and more things here.” You look down at the articles of clothes scattered at your feet. 
Angel inhales a deep breath and lets it out forcibly. He looks to you then scratches his eyebrow, not knowing how to carry on the conversation. As your emotional distress begins to be felt physically, Angel takes your hand and holds it against his cheek.
This is something you both began to do when neither of you could speak. When the words wouldn’t form, couldn’t explain how you felt, the touch of  hand could do it. As he holds it against his cheek, you cry more. This meant that Angel understood.
As he brings your hand back down, you leap up to wrap your arms around his neck. He does the same around your waist, breathing in your scent. He closes his eyes as he sinks into you.
You won’t ever know what this moment meant for Angel. Despite feeling completely wrecked to learn what EZ had done, along with you keeping it in the dark, Angel feels wanted for the first time in a long time. Though true you wanted to protect yourself, you wanted to protect him more. To him, that’s enough to look past the wrong you did. He knows in this moment, you are truly the one for him.
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cosmicjoke · 3 years ago
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Ah, chapters 113 & 114 of AoT, and I’ve only got one thing to say.
Zeke, am I supposed to be feel sorry for the bitch?  Well I DON’T.
No, seriously, fuck this guuuuuuuuy, I know I keep saying it again and again, but God damn, if these two chapters didn’t just solidify my hatred for the bastard.
First of all, he is just... the most whiny, delusional, self-pitying pathetic loser, just... he really is.  I feel like a character in a Peanuts comic strip every time he opens his mouth.  All I hear is “whaa, whaa, whaa”.  And his delusions of grandeur would almost be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.  
Here’s the thing, alright, and I’m sorry if I’m going to offend any Zeke fans with what I’m about to say, but too bad, I guess.  
Everything out of this shitheads mouth is a lie.  And just because he’s convinced himself of his own bullshit doesn’t make the lies coming out of his mouth any more true.
He turns Levi’s fellow soldiers into Titans.  He does this without remorse.  Don’t try to tell me Zeke felt bad about it.  He didn’t.  You know how I know he didn’t?  Because in his private moments in the immediate aftermath, he mocks Levi over having done it, gloating about his supposed master plan of using Levi’s compassion against him and utilizing it to ensure Levi’s own demise.  Zeke’s entire attitude here is sickeningly unbothered, unburdened, uncaring, and smug in the EXTREME.  He mocks Levi’s compassion, literally makes fun of it and lambasts it as a pathetic sign of weakness when he says “I know you’re a caring leader.  Your soldiers haven’t done anything wrong.  They’ve just grown a little bigger.  You wouldn’t, say, slice them to pieces over that, would you?”.  This is Zeke making fun of the fact, finding AMUSEMENT in the fact that he’s just murdered 30 people who have never done a single thing to him, and reveling in what he thinks is a victory that will lead to Levi’s own death, reveling in having taken advantage of and weaponizing a better man’s kindness and compassion.  Zeke is ENJOYING this moment.  Just like he enjoyed killing all those soldiers in Shinganshina.  And then, the kicker, and this is a particular point about Zeke that just makes me absolutely sick, he pretends to himself as if he didn’t want to do it.  He PLAYS at his own regret, saying, “I didn’t want do this either,” and yet in the very next breath, continues to treat what he’s done with grotesque flippancy, saying “Still, how sad... There wasn’t even a battle or skirmish.”  Gloating over how easily he’s bested Levi and his men, before going on to sink further into his insane delusions of grandeur, blaming their inability to trust one another on Levi’s inability to “understand”.  I’m sorry, Zeke, but no.  You didn’t even TRY to help Levi understand, too wrapped up in your own egotistical god-complex to consider it a possibility.  ‘Oh, only I could possibly understand, along with Eren, the great task we two special beings have been burdened with.  He makes assumptions about Levi’s life, about the kinds of things he’s seen and experienced, and convinces himself that they couldn’t be anything like what Zeke has (which, hilariously, is all wrong, since out of everyone, Levi knows better than anyone else in the SC what it’s like to be treated as a second class citizen).  Zeke just assumes Levi couldn’t possibly ever grasp the complexities of the outside world, and so that’s why Zeke didn’t even bother trying to talk to him.  Blah, blah, blah.  No, Zeke, you didn’t share your stupid ass plan because you wanted to continue to feel special, like you’re the chosen one who gets to decide the fate of an entire race of people.  The most hilarious part of this entire sequence is when Zeke is thinking Levi couldn’t ever understand the concept of all the world’s militaries bearing down on Paradis at once, and what that means, couldn’t grasp the urgency of the situation, as if ZEKE HIMSELF isn’t completely fucking responsible for that situation in the first place.  Zeke literally engineered it.  He created the problem, and now wants to position himself as the savior.  He’s just such a loser man.  The God damned definition.  
And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when it turns out Zeke’s plan to take Levi out failed miserably, and Levi comes after his sorry ass like a bat out of hell, Zeke continues to mock Levi, to laugh at what Levi’s just had to do in order to survive and pursue Zeke.  He says “Where’d your adorable little men go!?  Don’t tell me you killed them all!  The poor things!”.  Are you fucking serious?  Zeke’s behavior here is one of the most sickening things in the entire story, bar none.  The way he laughs at Levi here for having to cut down 30 of his friends and comrades, the absolute display of sociopathic glee and disregard for the severe, horrific trauma he’s just caused this man, is honestly shocking.  Man, I’m sorry, but anyone who sympathizes with Zeke over Levi after this display maybe needs to reevaluate their moral compass, because it’s damned broken.  And just as an aside, Zeke’s cowardly fear of Levi is also pretty damned funny.  He’s just such a bitch./
We go from this perverse display of psychopathic megalomania into Zeke’s backstory, and again, I’m sorry if I’m gonna offend any Zeke fans here, but to all of that, I ask, so effing what?  Oh, boohoo, Zeke’s mommy and daddy didn’t shower him with praise or spend any time playing catch with him, and somehow, I guess, this is meant to excuse his attempts later in life to commit mass genocide.  Poor, poor Zeke.  Yes, his childhood was sad, he experienced neglect from his parents for two whole years, was used by them as a pawn for their idiotic plans, and ended up disappointing his father when it turned out he had no real talent.  And again I ask, so what?  This sort of experience isn’t exactly what one would call unique, or even extreme.  There are countless children in the world who go through the exact same thing in various forms.  Parents who put too much pressure on their kids to succeed, parents who try living vicariously through their children, parents who make their disappointment known and even punish their children for failing to live up to their expectations (something Zeke’s parents never did, by the way).  The point is, this isn’t even what one would classify as extreme hardship.  It’s a sad story of a child being neglected and not receiving enough love from his parents.  This isn’t to undermine the very real pain one experiences from those things.  Not at all.  That pain is real and legitimate.  But it’s also fairly common and pedestrian, as far as childhood trauma is concerned, and it doesn’t even remotely begin to justify the extreme lengths of megalomaniacal, sociopathic, genocidal tendencies he later displays.  Also, Zeke also had his grandparents, who did love him and spent lots of time with him.  He had Mr. Ksaver, who played with him and acted as a mentor to him.  It wasn’t like Zeke had no one and grew up with zero connections.  That’s BS.  
Levi calls this bitch on his shit later in chapter 114, as Zeke’s muttering away in his delusions about how he’s “saving everyone”.  He asks Zeke “That was your plan?  Mercy killings?”.  Levi’s asking Zeke here who the hell gave him the right to decide who lives and who dies?  Who gave him the right to decide who’s life is WORTH living?  When Levi says him getting to die by being eaten by a Titan is pretty merciful, considering he stole the lives of so many of his comrades, Zeke’s reply speaks volumes about just how warped and demented his thinking is, when he says “I stole nothing.  I... saved them.  Them and the children they would have... I saved them all... from this cruel world.”.  He’s literally justifying murdering countless people by trying to redefine that murder as “saving” them.  It’s not murder because it saved them from ever having to suffer again!  He’s absolving himself here of his sins by casting his actions in not just a favorable light, but trying to sell them as heroic and admirable.  He takes no, actual responsibility for what he’s done.  He removes himself from that responsibility by pretending he was doing a good thing, an honorable, noble thing, by murdering a whole bunch of people who’d never done jack shit to him.  Yippee for Zeke, I guess.  He’s the very definition of an ego-maniac, of someone suffering from a messiah complex.  He’s insane, and morally depraved.  The very fact that he’s the one who comes up with the idea of eradicating the Eldian race by rendering them infertile is only further proof of this.  What teenager comes up with a plan to exterminate an entire race of people and thinks it’s a good idea?
Right before he blows himself and Levi up, he screams “I’m hope you’re watching, Mr. Ksaver!”.  He’s indulging in his own, fanciful notions of himself as the “chosen one”, as a unique person who alone is capable of delivering humanity to salvation.  He’s showing off, asking Mr. Ksaver to watch him as he “saves the world”, because all he cares about, really, is making himself feel special, of fulfilling what he’s deluded himself into believing is his destiny, his right to decide the fate of the world. 
And then he almost kills Levi in the process.
I swear, I wish Levi had just chopped his shitty head off right then and there.  No one can blame Levi for chopping the bastards legs up like he did, for being so angry.  It wasn’t just that Zeke had killed so many of his fellow soldiers by turning them into Titans, or tried to kill Levi by turning them into Titans, it’s also how Zeke laughed about it, and laughed at the pain he’d caused Levi, treating all of it as if it was worth nothing, and then having the unmitigated gall to cast himself as the hero bestowing his benevolent mercy on all.  Give me a fucking break.
Fuck you Zeke.  I hope you rot in hell, you dumb shit.  
Also, fuck you to Floch too.  I hate that bastard almost as much.
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multi-fxndom446 · 4 years ago
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Forever
Gojo Satoru x Reader
Warning: angst to fluff I suppose. Also the fact I proof read this at 3am and thought it was good so I’m posting it now before I regret it and re-write it 6 more times to then give up ✌🏻😝 anways
Part 2? I have a good idea but it’s up to you guysXD (which I’m not gonna lie part 2 would probably help it make sense)
Summary:
~~
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Out on our own
Gojo Satoru. Where do you even start to describe that man? Or how you fell for him?
That’s all you could think of when you looked towards him. Smiling softly at his feature that he showed proudly or the features he kept hidden away like his eyes. His eyes were something you could get lost in any day of your life and maybe that was one of the reasons you had fallen for him.
You smiled softly as he spoke to you, he was telling you another story of his students. You knew more then anyone how proud he was of them, even if others thought otherwise. That was another reason you had fallen so hard.
You had known gojo for many years and in those years you actually got to chip away at his god complex and get to who he truly was. He didn’t know you did it until it was to late and he suddenly couldn’t let you go.
If you had known falling for gojo would one day lead you to losing him, you still would’ve let yourself fall over and over.
Dreamin in a world that we both know
You sat by his side quietly, watching his smile brighten more and more. It was a rare chance the two of you got to be alone.
You glanced down at his hands as they gently and mindlessly played with yours. He must’ve caught onto your lack of attention because suddenly his hands were moving to your face to gently return your gaze to him.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked, rather softly. Something you had gotten used to. In these rare moments he liked to be his quieter self to relish in your presence rather then his own.
You took his hand from your face and gently kissed his palm before you looked out at the buildings that surrounded the school. You locked his fingers with yours and leaned your head on his shoulder.
“Just everything I suppose.” You chuckled, watching his thumb draw circles into your hand. “How was I able to get the infamous Gojo Satoru to fall for me?”
The question was more of one you were asking yourself but he kissed the top of your head and answered, “because you showed me love. You loved me for who I was and not just for my power or strength” he squeezed your hand, “I’ve loved you since we started highschool you know?”
Your head shot up to look at him, “seriously?!” He laughed.
“Don’t look so surprised,” his laughs died down and he brought his hand back to your face and suddenly the atmosphere changed. He used his other hand to pull down his mask, allowing his hair to fall and for you to see the sincerity in his eyes.
He brought you closer kissing you softly, you could feel his eyelashes tickle your cheeks with butterfly kisses as he closed his eyes to enjoy the kiss.
You melted into him, you always did and you were sure you always would.
Is out of our control
But if shit hits the fan we’re not alone
“I’m sorry y/n.” Shoko spoke softly as if scared you would break down at any point in time. “I can only do so much from here though, you should see a doctor.”
“Are you positive?” You asked, after you sat silently for a moment processing the information she had just given you. You looked to her with tears brimming your eyes and reluctantly she nodded. “So what’s the point of seeing a doctor? You told me everything I need to know.”
“Y/n maybe they could give you something to help, to keep you alive.” You got up from the chair with a sigh and looked at your friend with a small smile.
She wasn’t good with emotions especially when it was her friends. She went to say something else but stopped when you took a deep breathe, “in your opinion, do you actually think they could help?” Her silence told you everything you needed to know.
“How long?” You whispered out, still trying to keep your tears at bay.
She sighed, “I can’t give you an exact time but not very long. It’s progressing very fast. It’s already progressed so much since the last time you came in for a check up.” You we’re both silent refusing to look the other in the eye. “How has Gojo taken it?”
“I haven’t told him.”
“What?” She looked to you in disbelief but you just shrugged in response. “How have you been able to hide the symptoms this long?”
“I’m just good at covering I guess” some tears slipped unwillingly from your eyes.
“You have to tell him.” You nodded in response before bidding your goodbye, sparing her a thank you.
As soon as you were out the door Gojo was by your side with a curious head tilt, silently asking what you were doing but you just smiled at him. “Just needed help with a case.” Before he could complain about you only needing his help you spoke again, “you know you have me? Right? You know I’ll always be there for you.”
Cause you’ve got me and you know
“I know.” His confusion only grew but he gave you a soft smile, intertwining your fingers. “And you’ll always have me as well.”
And I’ve got you and I know
~
But if the tide takes California
I’m so glad I got to hold ya
As days went by your sickness got worse and it was getting harder and harder to keep it from Gojo, passing off every coughing fit as a dry throat to which he’d lecture you about drinking enough water.
You spent every last minute with Gojo which he wasn’t complaining about but something wasn’t right but he wouldn’t pry until you were ready.
You stopped participating as much in missions and even sat on the side lines for training which was never like you but you ran out of breathe easily now and those would throw you into coughing fits that would end with you coughing up blood.
So to save yourself from that exhaustion you stopped.
Shoko was the only one that knew until Nanami saw you one day and immediately he knew. He watched you from afar for a moment taking in the time to notice how you guilty looked at Gojo. He went to you and confronted you about it immediately, leading into a slight argument.
Gojo was stood on the field, his hands in his pockets as he watched. You were angry or more so frustrated and nanami knew why. He said one simple sentence to you and you were immediately falling to the ground in tears as Nanami tried to comfort you.
As soon as Gojo saw you fall he was by your side before the tears could hit the ground. “Y/n what happened?” You just shook your head so he looked to Nanami for answers but he was already turned away and walking the other direction.
He wasn’t gonna be the one to tell Gojo.
And if the sky falls from heaven above
Oh I know I had the best time falling into love
You looked over at Gojo with utter adoration and love as he trained his students, joking with them here and there.
It was nice, peaceful. To see him not worry over you. You almost just let him be and went to walk away until Yuuji pointed you out and Gojo cut the class short.
You tried to smile but it never reached your eyes and fell before he could even return the smile himself. When he was finally in front of you, he softly brushed hair out of your face and looked you over.
“Y/n” you hummed in response but your heart started sinking when you saw his frown. “Please tell me what has been going on.”
We’ve been living on a faultline
And for awhile you were all mine
You knew you couldn’t hide it forever but some part of you hoped that if you didn’t tell him it wouldn’t be true and you could live with him forever and be happy.
But the look in his eyes told you, you had to tell him. You had to tell him everything.
“I suppose it’s time to talk isn’t it?” You laughed in sadness before you took his hand in yours and lead him to a bench.
I spent a life time giving you my heart
I swear that I’ll be yours forever till, forever falls apart
“Gojo,” you moved forward hesitantly almost asking if you could remove his blindfold which he leaned into your touch allowing you to finally see the eyes that you loved so much. The ones that were filled with concern now. You decided it would be better to just rip the bandaid off so with a sigh you continued, “I’m dying.”
Till forever falls apart
“What?”
~
So this is it?
That’s how it ends?
“Gojo I already told her there’s nothing I can do.” Shoko told him, moving around to collect the things Gojo had carelessly knocked over in his frustration.
He watched her silently until she was finally done, “why not?” She went to respond but he wasn’t done. “Why the hell not?! Why can’t you reverse it?! That’s your power why can’t you do anything?!”
Her eyes widened slightly, she wasn’t used to him yelling. “Gojo,” she started softly. “I can’t reverse it because it’s not cursed energy, it’s a sickness. And even if I could, she didn’t come to me until it progressed to far.”
He was silent, his mouth slightly agape as he registered her words. “I’m sorry Satoru. I really am.”
I guess theres nothing more romantic then dying with your friends.
Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets as he watched you and his students. You had gotten close to them very easily, it was like they depended on you.
As he watched them smile brightly at you he wondered if they knew. But by the way you tried to reciprocate there smile to ease them he knew they didn’t.
How could you hold this from him? There should’ve been something he could’ve done.
No, that’s wrong. He knew it too. There was nothing he could to help you especially if Shoko could do nothing.
Almost as if you felt his eyes on you, you glanced towards him and gave him a soft smile. He completely melted for you and he always has.
He knew there may have been nothing he could do but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let you live out your days with no hope.
And I’m not sorry, for myself.
The next few weeks Gojo had been quiet, keeping to himself and you thought it was your fault. And tonight like many other nights, You watched Gojo walk from room to room and for a moment you were worried he was avoiding you but when he came into the bedroom with a soft smile you knew you were wrong. This was different then the other nights.
“Ready?” In his arms were a few blankets that took him forever to find, he needed to find the right ones.
You titled your head to the side slightly, “for what?” He held his hand out for you and as always you took it. He helped you up and kept your hand in his.
“You’ll see.”
The silence would’ve been deafening had you not been with Gojo, his silence was always something you found comfort in.
He glanced at you to see if you were okay and for a moment he felt at peace, at peace that you even decided to spend your life with him to begin with. Then he remembered, you didn’t spend your life with him. You spent not even half your life with him. He wanted you to spend every day with him until you both were old. And suddenly that fleeting moment of peace was gone.
“Gojo?” He turned his head towards you, “where are we going?”
He looked out toward the path again and smiled, “we’re almost there.”
Gojo guided you through the paths for a few minutes more before he finally got to his destination and he turned to you again with the biggest smile, a smile that always made you smile. “Here.”
When you looked out at where you were suddenly it made sense and you turned back to him, “is this-?”
“Where I first admitted I loved you? Yes.” He dragged you along the path towards a little patch of grass where he laid out the blankets before he helped you sit down.
“Wow I’m surprised you remember this place.” You joked bumping his shoulder. He gave you a genuine laugh but as it died down a feeling of sadness filled it’s place.
“I always remember everything that involves you.” You looked at him in disbelief so he continued, “I know you don’t believe me but I do. You stuck by my side for everything and it was always very easy for me to lose people because I cared about myself more then I did for others. Then you came in and suddenly I couldn’t even remember why I thought I was the most important thing in this world.”
You watched him with a gaze filled with love, “you know I had a crush on you for the longest time? I remember seeing you and saying I wanted to know you. Then I did get to know you and I fell completely in love with you.” You were silent. “Gojo.”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry I’m the one you fell for. That I’m the one who you finally opened up to.” He shook his head laughing at that
“I wouldn’t want to spend a minute loving anybody else.” You gave him a shaky smile and he was quick to wipe a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, please.”
He kissed your head and for once he didn’t remove his blindfold, just so you wouldn’t see the way his eyes glazed over.
Cause you’ve got me and you know
You both sat there for what felt like hours and if Gojo was honest he could have stayed there for hours to come but he could feel the way you were shivering next to him.
“We should get back.” He finally decided and when he turned to you he felt his heart break just a little more. You’re skin was pale, paler then it had been before. Or maybe it was always this pale he just refused to see it.
He stood up and grabbed your hand, helping you stand. As soon as you were up you had to grab onto his arms to keep you steady and after a deep breathe you stood up and gave him a soft smile. “I’m sorry, just light headed.”
And I’ve got you and I know
“Don’t apologize.” He told you and went to grab the blankets when he saw the way you gazed off. “Hey,” you didn’t look at him so he took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you to him. “You’ll fight this ok?”
“Gojo-“
“Trust me. You trust me don’t you?” You nodded and he held his hand up for a high five. “You will fight this.”
You laughed a little and went to return his high-five but right as your hand made contact with his your smile fell, and your knees buckled beneath you.
So if the tide takes California
I’m so glad I got to hold you
Gojos body reacted faster then his mind. One moment you were high-fiving him the next he was catching you before you hit the ground. “Y/n?” When he looked down at you his mind finally caught up.
“Stay with me please!” And he was zipping his way to a hospital, knowing Shoko couldn’t do anything the hospital was the next best thing. “You’ll be ok we’re almost there.”
You could only keep your eyes open enough to look at Gojo and the way the wind rushed through his hair. His hair, you loved his hair. You went to reach for it when a bright light stopped you. You almost thought you died right then but when you turned your head you saw the halls of a hospital and distinctly you could hear Gojo yelling at someone to help.
And if the sky falls from heaven above
Nurses and doctors were running to him the moment they saw him carrying you in his arms. They brought over a bed to have you laid down on but when they went to grab you he was hesitant.
When they were finally able to get you from his arms you kept your gaze on him and before they took you away you called out to him, “oh I know I had the best time falling into love.”
He felt his whole world falling apart before him, he found himself going over everything in his head. You were pale he should have paid more mind to that or the way you coughed he should’ve seen it sooner.
He stood resting against a wall, glaring down at the floor as his mind went through every possibility until he felt someone stand right next to him. “How is she?” Gojo turned to Nanami who was watching down the halls.
“Not good.” He replied before they fell back into silence. “Howd you know I was here?”
Nanami sighed, “I’ve been expecting it. I saw you on the way here.”
“I really was blind to it wasn’t I?” Nanami didn’t answer and Gojo was okay with that, it seemed to answer his question nonetheless.
We’ve been living on a fault line
And for awhile you were all mine.
They had been waiting for what felt like hours until finally a doctor came back to get him. “She’s awake now, you’re able to see her.”
When Gojo took a step Nanami stopped him, “give her my best will you? I’ll take care of your students.” Gojo nodded at him in thanks and then followed the doctor to your room.
The doctor stopped at your door and let him in. As soon as his eyes fell on you Gojo almost had to step right back out of the room to pretend this wasn’t real. But it was and you needed him.
You turned your head when you heard soft footsteps and smiled softly when your eyes landed on Gojo. “Hey.”
I’ve spent a life time giving you my heart
“How are you feeling?” You both knew you weren’t feeling great.
“I’m okay.” But you always wanted to reassure him and make sure he didn’t worry. But he was worried. He loved you, more then anything and now he was losing you.
Your life was literally just minutes away from being over and you both felt it and it terrified you. “Do you remember the first time I told you I liked you?” You asked him softly hoping to get a reaction from him but all he could do was give a short nod.
“I was in my last year of middle school just about to transfer to-to Jujutsu. I saw you walking and I-“ you got cut off by your own coughing and in a second he was by your side.
“You saw me leaving and your friends dared you to do it before we didn’t see each other for a few months.” He finished for you, making you drink the water the doctors gave you. “I ignored you at the time.”
He sounded regretful but you knew if he didn’t ignore you then he would never have fallen for you in the first place.
The room fell silent again after you took a few sips of water then pushed his hand away. “Can I see your eyes, please.” He was hesitant, but the pleading in your own outweighed his hesitation.
He pulled his blindfold down, trying to cover up the emotions he was feeling but when you smiled weakly at him he felt all the emotions flooding through him. “Do you remember what I said after you confessed to me?” You asked him but you didn’t wait for him to answer, “I swear that I’ll be yours forever.”
But you forgot what he said afterwords as a joke to lighten the intense mood he had put between you.
“Till forever falls apart”
“Don’t say that.” You frowned, machines starting to beep around you. “Gojo, I-I’m scared.”
He held your hand not even being able to give you a smile now. Instead he squeezed your hand and said the last words you wanted to hear, “I love you more then anything Y/N.”
Till forever falls apart
The next moment you smiled one last time and he felt your hand go limp in his. He almost went to call for help but hearing the deafening and unending beep he knew, he knew it was over.
He had lost you.
We never had it from the start
Till death do us part
Doctors and nurses flooded the room in an instant but still they were a second to late. So before they could push him out, he gave you one last kiss on your head and finally left.
The moment he stepped out of that hospital he felt as though he left a part of himself there and he wasn’t sure he would ever get it back. But for now he needed to be there for his students.
If the tide takes California
A year later Gojo found himself stood in front of your gravestone. Your name was written nicely across the top with the date of your birthday and the day you died.
He never let himself dwell on the memories of what he could have done. It was to late and he was done putting himself through the torture.
He turned from your grave and made his way back to where his students were waiting. Megumi seemed to be the only one to notice the slight shift in Gojos mood but decided not to speak on it.
Gojo walked behind his three students laughing as they joked and made fun of each other until he saw something pass by him in the corner of his eye, something familiar.
He felt like he was moving in slow motion as he found the person, no, as he found you again. You passed by him and were walking away from him. He couldn’t let you go, not again.
I’m so glad I got to know you
He walked towards you gently grabbing onto your wrist. You turned towards him quickly with shock written all over your face and for a second he thought you remembered him. “Y/n?” And then you spoke.
“Who?” He felt his heart break all over again. “I’m sorry do I know you?”
“No” he immediately let go of you and took a step back, “no I’m sorry- I-I’m sorry. You just look like someone I know.”
And if the sky falls from heaven above
I know I had the best time falling into love
You watched him take a step away from you and as you watched him, something felt familiar. You looked to who was waiting for him, the three students looked familiar as well.
“Gojo?” You asked yourself softly almost as if testing the name and suddenly you were stepping towards him as if allowing yourself to remember. “Wait! Gojo! I remember!”
Immediately Gojo turned right back around and stared at you to see if you were being honest and when he saw your smile he knew. He ran back to you, wrapping his arms around you as you did the same. “I-I don’t know how- I don’t know how I remember, I just did.”
“Shh it’s okay.” He reassured before he pulled away to cup your cheeks in his hands.
We’ve been living on a fault line
And for awhile you were all mine
He looked over you in amazement not once asking himself how or why you were here. You were supposed to be dead how are you here right in front of him?
I’ve spent a life time giving you my heart
All he knew was his heart was filled with relief and that’s all he needed. He leaned his head against yours, relishing in your warmth.
“I swear that I’ll be yours forever.” He whispered softly to you and you smiled in joy. But he forgot the most important part of that sentence.
Till forever falls apart
~~~
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buckysforever · 3 years ago
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telling bucky you’re pregnant
PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU ENGAGE: i am a minor, i think it goes without saying that minors can read my work if they want to, but i do want to clarify that if you are an adult you can interact with my work (if you feel comfortable), if you are an 18+ blog you can interact with my work (if you feel comfortable, and i will not interact with yours). i only read and write fluff and angst, and small amounts of mature topics, the pinned post on my page goes more into detail. i write with black women in mind but most of my fics will have no physical description of y/n. trigger warnings are tagged! if you would like to learn more about my blog (which i highly encourage) please refer to the post on my blog titled “PLEASE READ”. thank you and happy reading! 
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trigger warnings: fluff, angst (?), pregnancy, cursing, abortion, anxiety, pet names, throwing up
word count: 1,297
a/n: there are multiple times where i mention a tiny life or a baby and i would like to make it clear that the reader is 2 weeks pregnant and is not carrying a baby. she is carrying a fetus, this is a pro choice blog and i will not tolerate any pro life propaganda being spread, i chose to use those words because i thought they fit well, but like the rest of this story they are fiction. on a lighter note, is overexaggeration not a word?? i really thought it was a word. i was going to write “what bucky would be like while you’re pregnant” next but i’m open to feedback and future ideas, so if you would like to please send in a request!  i would love to hear what you guys want to see, thank you and happy reading!
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so many emotions. i’m sure the pregnancy is partially to blame but if i’m being honest, i have no idea what bucky’s going to think. we’ve talked about kids and marriage and it’s something we both want in the future, not right now. our one year anniversary was just last month, i don’t want to ruin what we have, but i know i have to tell him. it wouldn’t be fair to keep this from him, if he doesn’t want it then i’ll abort it. being a mom is something i’ve always wanted, and i know bucky would make a great dad, and i think a part of him knows it too. i’m not going to jeopardize his progress over an accident, even if a part of me wants to keep it. the bump, hearing the heartbeat, painting the nursery, buying the small clothes, watching bucky holding our child, i want that, i really really want that. but if he doesn’t, i’m okay with that. i love bucky, and i will wait until a time where he is ready and as eager as i am to have a baby. 
time skip: 2 days later 
i got a blood test just to make sure, i couldn’t help myself from crying when i saw that i was actually pregnant. two weeks along with bucky barnes’ baby. the nurse told me that i would need to figure out what i was going to do with it before the symptoms started to set in. i didn’t mention that i was already feeling pretty under the whether and i guess thats due to the serum. i wasn’t really listening to her, so fixated on the tiny life growing inside of me. bucky would be home soon and i need to tell him, even though i feel like shit and i've already detected the miserable feeling of nausea creeping though my body, he needs to know. how exactly i’m going to tell him? no idea. i know i’m going to sit him down, i don’t know if i’ll be able to say it if i’m looking at him so maybe i’ll have my back to his chest. i could make him some tea first, that would make him calm before i completely shift his reality. my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and bucky’s soft voice calling out for me, asking me what room i’m in. 
“y/n?”, how long has he been standing there? he looks worried, have i told him yet? i can’t seem to piece myself together, i thought this would be easier. i’ve told this man everything about me, he knows every secret i thought no one would ever want to hear. he knows every stupid thing i thought wasn’t worth mentioning, he knows me.
“honey you don’t look so good”, he muttered out while placing his right hand on my forehead. i noticed the thin layer of sweat that stuck itself to my skin when i felt calloused fingers make contact. 
“no fever. you feeling ok?”, i could feel the tears coming, my vision becoming blurry. despite my hazy surroundings i could make out his face, it was filled with concern. and yet i couldn’t make a sound, the fear of potential rejection was the only thing on my mind. my eyes overflowed, and he sat down alongside me on the couch.
“y/n. what’s wrong? can you talk to me sweetheart?”, the beginning of the plan i thought i had was set on fire and thrown out the window the second i heard the door open. i gathered all of my remaining strength and wiped my eyes with shaky hands. 
“i’m pregnant”, the words came out broken and not at all clear. i watched his reaction, eyes going wide, face getting a little paler. it seemed like every emotion known to mankind was flashing before his eyes.
when he finally did speak, he said something i wasn’t at all expecting, “i’m gonna be a dad?” his eyes now filled with tears, his shaking hands grasping mine. 
“yes, if you want to keep it, yes.”, part of me couldn’t believe that he was even considering this. 
“i want to keep it, oh my god of course i want to keep it. do you?”, all i could do was nod before i was pulled into what felt like the tightest hug of my life.
he pulled back pretty quickly, noticing how much strength he put into it, “are you okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to squeeze you to death.” before i could open my mouth to answer, the nausea from earlier came back, much much stronger. running to the bathroom with a very confused bucky not far behind, i lowered myself to my knees and felt the joy of motherhood start, this time in the form of morning sickness. 
when i was done, bucky removed his hands that were stroking my back and pulled me into his chest. “you alright?” the words were muffled due to the kisses he was placing into the crown of my head. after i hummed out a yes, we continued to sit there, enjoying each other’s company. he got up first, helping me up with him, leading me to the sink, he picked me up and placed me on the counter. as he started to get my toothbrush ready i couldn’t help but notice the huge grin on his face, he shook his head slightly and i knew exactly what he was thinking. 
“i can’t believe i get to live this life with you” 
he’s said it a million times before, no words are necessary to get the his point across. 
“how far along are you”
“about two weeks, i a blood test to be certain, i just got the results this morning.”
i could see a worried look coming back onto his face, “is everything okay, with the serum and everything? is that gonna mess anything up for you or the baby?” 
“the nurse said something about it, i’m gonna be honest i wasn’t really listening.” 
“y/n”, he groaned out. i took that as my cue to start brushing my teeth so i wouldn’t have to respond to the lecture that was about to start. 
he shook his head for a second before his mouth opened, “it’s okay honey, you were probably so nervous, we can go tomorrow. how are you feeling right now?”
i reached my hand up to feel his forehead, returning the favor, he quickly pushed it down. “i’m not kidding y/n, how are you.”
after emptying my mouth and rinsing off my toothbrush i replied, “i’m not gonna lie i’m more worried about you, if i’m not getting scolded for my “lack of regard for my own personal safety” as you would say.”
the look i got from bucky convinced me to fess up, “i’m kind of tired, and obviously still a bit nauseous, but mainly just tired.” 
he seemed pretty content with that and he went to pick me up again, “i can walk you know?”
“you’re gonna have to get used to this y/n, what if you collapsed from exhaustion?” 
i rolled my eyes at his overexaggeration of my condition and allowed him to lift me off the counter, i watched him make his way towards our bed. after i was gracefully placed onto my side of the mattress he said, “i’m gonna get you some water, you’re going to drink at lest half of it, then we’re gonna schedule an appointment for tomorrow, okay?” 
after simultaneously yawning and nodding he left, and a smile crept up onto my face, thinking of watching bucky holding our tiny child in his big arms. and with that thought, i fell asleep. 
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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years ago
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Congested and Contested
Donnie x Reader
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Author: Admin JemPrompt: Hello! May I request a Image where the reader, (Donnie’s GF), is sick but denies it until she gets her butt kicked by the guys at training, almost faints, then confesses she that she is ill and Donnie cares for her? Thank you!!
Note: I am under the weather a bit so this really made me feel all happy and wanting a turtle to take care of my sick college bumm. 
Warnings: Being sick? Undereating? Close to fainting? Honestly pretty chill.
Word Count:   2.1K
When you woke up for the day you could immediately tell something was off. Your eyes were so heavy and it felt like someone had shoved cotton balls into your skull, and left some plugging your nose. You couldn’t breathe except through your mouth which was so dry that you could barely take a breath without feeling like each inhale was a barbed wire being pulled down your throat then back out again. You groaned when you found your limbs were jelly. Everything felt disjointed and heavy.
You forced yourself upright and could feel your nose alleviate some of the blockages before coming back full force with a new friend- a pounding headache. Oh just great. I love a double whammy. Not.
When you heard the knock on the door and the bright light of the hallway invade your senses, it felt like your head would explode.
“You’re up- good. We have breakfast ready.”
You squinted at the large figure in the doorway, seeing enough features to determine it to be Donnie, with his bo staff strapped to his back and glasses being adjusted by a three-fingered hand. He smiled as you just groaned.
“Can I just stay in bed today?” You croaked, placing your head in your hands and gave a sharp sniff, trying to breathe easier.
Donnie moved towards you quickly and sat next to you. He moved your hair from your face and placed his lips against your forehead. You sighed as his cooler lips came into contact with your overheated body.
“Sweetheart,” He pulled away, “you’re burning up.”
You pouted as he got up and began walking the space of the room and began mumbling to himself on what your symptoms were. You sighed. You knew he would work himself into a worried frenzy and work until he was able to get you better. He had already been in his lab so much trying to find Shredder and what he was planning, you couldn’t put more on him.
You shook your head, “Don’t worry, love, I’m fine.”
You pushed the blankets off of you, shivering as you crawled out of your warm cocoon. Your headache began again with a vengeance. Taking a moment to recuperate, you pretended to look around for a clean shirt, when in reality you didn’t want to drop to the floor.
Donnie remained on the bed watching you with a crease between his brows. He knew you weren’t feeling well. He knew how stubborn you were. He also knew if he pushed the issue too far you would go silent and walk around the lair anyways. As long as he kept an eye on you today, Donnie could help when you were ready to ask.
When you were finally dressed- who knew trying to put on a sports bra when sick could be so freaking difficult??- you shot Donnie a smile and took his hand before leading him from the room. Donnie kept your hand in his and kept himself close to you the whole way. You just shrugged and let him have his moment of being protective. You couldn’t handle an argument very well with your nose running a mile a minute and your brain trying to replicate a whole drumline in your skull.
As you walked into the kitchen you were hit by so much noise and chaos you debated on turning around right then and there. Mikey was blasting “Wap” from the speaker April had gotten him- the same woman who introduced him to TikTok- while tossing a pancake onto a plate periodically. Leo sat with a smile, occasionally mouthing the lyrics and bobbing his head with the beat. Raph had resorted to banging the cutlery on the table in an impromptu drum session and was catching a pancake as they flew past him. Splinter merely sat reading a novel as he cut his pancakes into precise pieces.
Donnie nudged you towards a chair next to Leo before grabbing the two of you some plates. As he set one down in front of you you saw that Leo had been staring at you.
“What’s up, Fearless?” you drawled.
He just smiled softly and passed you some orange juice.
YES! Vitamin D to help take away some of the grogginess. When you were younger your mom would always make you a grilled cheese sandwich with either tomato or chicken noodle soup with a glass of orange juice. She always said it would help cure three parts of a cold. The hunger, the frowns, and the sleepies. It always cheered you up and never failed to make you feel like a little girl again when you got orange juice or grilled cheese.
You nodded gratefully before filling the glass and taking a big gulp. The cool drink on your dry throat felt amazing and you could feel your headache abate a bit. Well until Mikey walked up to you and decided to scream, “HOT PANCAKES!” before plopping six on your plate.
Your eyes widened. You were a food lover for sure, but there was no way you were going to be able to eat all of those. You raised your eyes to see Donnie smiling softly as he put four from your plate onto his. You nodded in thanks and started to nibble on what was in front of you. You weren’t even that hungry but you knew that if you didn’t eat at all then you would drop halfway through the day from malnutrition. That wouldn’t help your case of not being sick. 
The boys were done eating in record time while you struggled to eat even half of your food. They shot looks at each other while Donnie’s eyebrows furrowed at your attempts to finish off your plate.
“Love?” 
You looked up to see 5 pairs of eyes on you. You chuckled, “Guess pancakes aren’t the move for me today. Sorry, Mikey.”
“It’s all good, sweetcheeks,” Mikey took your plate and began eating what was left, “You feeling okay?”
“Of course. Fit as a fiddle.” You bluffed. 
Donnie shook his head at you and stole a glance at Splinter, who nodded back.
You narrowed your eyes at them. What on earth were they concocting? 
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were stuck on the side of the mat as the boys trained. Splinter would ignore your attempts to jump in to spar with the boys and passed over you on all the demonstrations. It was infuriating. You had been training for months with the boys, proving you could handle yourself despite your smaller size. A stupid cold wasn’t going to keep you from training. Raph had the flu and still got to fight and go on patrol, but you couldn’t even train? No way.
You looked onto the sparring mat to see Raph on the ground, pissed as usual that he hadn’t beaten the leader in blue.  He ignored Leo’s hand and stood up by himself. Leo shook his head and went to where Splinter was working Mikey and Donnie through some movements. 
You smirked. This was your chance.
Snagging some water you strode over to Raph. Sniffed before getting to close so he wouldn’t hear your breaths ratting as easily. 
“Hey Red,” you offered the bottle to him.
He took it with clenched hands. “Hey Y/N. How ya feelin’?”
“Fine,” you said through clenched teeth.
Raph raised an eyebrow.
“wanna spar?” you shot out before he could begin to ask further about how you were doing. Honestly standing and talking was wiping you out and your head was pounding. 
“Nah I can’t fight ya when you’re like this. I would-“
You cut him off. “Scared you’re gonna lose again? I’m sure Leo would be willing to spar- more of a challenge anyways.”
You turned around but paused when Raph grabbed your elbow and whipped you back around. 
 “Let’s go.” He growled. He tossed the water bottle to the edge of the mat before backing away to get into his stance. So predictable. 
As you lowered yourself into a stance, he pounced at you. You had to duck and weave to avoid his offensive approach. You were hardly able to take in a breath and all the jumping around was making your head spin. Raph landed a blow to your shoulder and sent you back a good 2 feet. You could hardly breathe anymore. Your vision started to get darker spots on the edges of your vision. Raph stopped and called out for Donnie. You crouched down when you began to sway. Your breath came in shallow gasps and it felt like there was fog in your ears, your eyes, and your tongue felt so heavy. 
“Y/N?” you felt a cool hand press itself to your clammy forehead. “Love, you’re burning up”
Just as your vision faded completely you managed to get out, “It’s cuz I’m so hot.” Then it went dark.
When you woke up later, it was very quiet except for the mild hum of a diffuser on the table next to you. As you tried to sit up you found there was something heavy on your head. You lifted your hand and removed the damp cloth from your forehead to see that you were in a cocoon of blankets, head propped up by a pillow. As you shifted, you saw that someone had changed you out of your sweaty clothes into a clean T-shirt. You sniffed it and determined it was Donnie’s because of how big it was on you and the light scent of motor grease. You sat up quickly and took another deep breath. You could smell again! You smiled and saw a glass of ice water on the table. You gulped it down quickly and sighed as the cool liquid soothed your dry throat.
The door cracked open and Donnie popped his head in. He smiled and opened the door further when he saw that you were awake. He carried a tray with a bowl and toast with him, which he sat on the table next to you. He placed his hand on your forehead. 
“Hi love,” he took out a thermometer and turned it on, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you opened your mouth and he placed the device under your tongue. 
“You scared me back there. Why didn’t you just let me take care of you earlier? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” He looked at you in concern. You knew you worried him and it wasn’t fair. But you don’t want to be the weak link in his family. He was always so strong and took care of everyone else. You wanted to show him you could be strong too. 
Instead, you pointed to the thermometer in your mouth. 
He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll wait.”
The thermometer beeped and Donnie read the temperature. 
“99.7. Still a little high but better than before.” He said.
You looked down at your hands. “I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t want to upset you.” You explained how you felt and Donnie remained quiet until you were finished. He pulled you into his arms and stroked your hair from your face. 
 “You are the strongest person I know, Y/N. You fight every day for us and you support me in so many ways. You always help patch up the boys after a patrol, staying up to help us talk through our problems. You always are so positive and push us to do better. You make me better every day and I am so grateful I get to have you in my life. You are so wonderful and giving and strong, it makes me want to be worthy of you.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “You don’t need to be strong all the time. I am your partner and it’s my job to take care of you. I love getting to take care of you.”
You sniffled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“thank you.”
“of course.”
You both sat there for some time, simply taking in the other's presence. It was quiet and peaceful. Well until your stomach grumbled. 
“Hungry?” Donnie chuckled.
You nodded and took the bowl from him. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Yes! You loved this turtle. You offered him a bite of the grilled cheese, then hunkered down into the blankets as he turned on Star Wars. He crawled in next to you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, your head against his chest, and your favorite movie marathon in front of you, you knew you could stay here forever. With Donnie, you were happy and content. Maybe having him take care of you wasn’t as bad as you thought. 
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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago
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Murder, He Wrote
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Part 2 Co-Written with @southerngracela​
Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….
Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!
Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader
A/N:  So this is Part 2 to our submission for @Jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020  Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.
Part 1
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  With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity. 
When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.
 "I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded. 
"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest. 
"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second. 
“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips. 
As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?" 
"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing. 
"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.
"You don't know the half of it," he winked.
"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips. 
"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."
"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying. 
"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door. 
The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped. 
"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words. 
He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room. 
In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led. 
**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.
He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.
His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.
Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.
“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.
“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.
Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.
“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.
“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”
“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.
“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.
“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.
“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”
Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”
“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”
“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.
“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.
“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”
“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.
“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”
“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."
Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.
“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”
“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.
 “You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”
Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.
 “Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”
She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”
Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...
He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.
“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.
“How's Richard?”
Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.
“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”
“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”
Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.
“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.
“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”
“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.
“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”
“Good.”  Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.
“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.
“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.
“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”
Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”
And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.
“I see that now.”
“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan. 
"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.
“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.
“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.
“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.
“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”
The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.
***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.
You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.
The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning. 
“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.
“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.
“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.
“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.
“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”
You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.
At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.
“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.
“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.
Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.
“No thank you?”
“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.
His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”
You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.
“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”
It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.
“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”
“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”
“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”
He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”
“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.
“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him. 
You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.
So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.
True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.
“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.
“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”
“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.
You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed
“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”
Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.
“What the fuck?” you stuttered
“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.
“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.
“Answer the question.” He said simply
And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down
“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.
“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.
“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”
“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.
With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space. 
A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.
You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.
“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.
“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.
“Clothes too…”
“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.
You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”
“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”
You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”
“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.
With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.
It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.
“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.
Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.
“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”
You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”
“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.
“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”
At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.
“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.
His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.
“10 minutes” he repeated.
He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.
“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner.  Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.
You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.
 “That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”
You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.
“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.
“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.
You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.
****
Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.
“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”
She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.
Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.
He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.
“Hairbrush?” she asked.
Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.
“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.
“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”
At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.
Such a petulant brat.
“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”
“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.
Oh, Doll, you have no idea…
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.
“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.
“Smart move.” He nodded.
“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.
“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”
At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”
“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.
“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.
“Is that it?”
“For now.” He nodded.
“Do I get to make any rules?”
Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“Can I ask you for things?”
“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”
“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”
“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.
Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.
“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”
She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”
As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She said quickly
“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.
**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.
In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.
“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”
If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.
Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.
“For the boredom.”
You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.
Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.
“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”
He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”
The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.
“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.
“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.
“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”
Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”
“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”
His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”
Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”
“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”
“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine
“I met my mother.”
“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”
“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.
“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.
“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”
“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”
Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”
“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”
“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”
“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.
“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.
Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”
At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."
“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.
“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”
There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.
Shit.
In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”
“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.
“Fuck you.” You spat back.
“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.
His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.
Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly. 
One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.
“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”
You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.
“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”
He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.
“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.
“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”
“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.
"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”
He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.
"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.
“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.
Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.
“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”
At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.
“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”
And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.
****
Part 3
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hazbbyhaz · 3 years ago
Text
sleepless || harry styles
twenty five
pairing: harry styles x OC
synopsis: the new girls first day
disclaimer: making fun of someone’s appearance
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They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
Avery entered the small café shivering from head to toe. It was raining cats and dogs outside, the light jacket she had thrown on in a rush was completely soaked. As agreed upon the previous day, she arrived half an hour early to work. She could hear Tom's distant chatter as she made her way behind the counter.
"Avery, there you are!" With a smile on his face, Tom rushed from the back office to where Avery is standing. Avery took note of how nervous and jumpy he was, almost on edge, and only a mere second later she understood why. Standing only a few feet away from her was the new girl. She looks very pretty, with her hair tied up in a french braid, her minimalist clothes, and her pearly white teeth adorned in her smile, she was the poster for the cafe's target audience. Young, hopeful, and high off of the feeling of being alive.
"This is Sarah," Tom walks towards the girl and gently nudges her towards Avery. "today is her trial run for the job. If she does well, she will get the position." He continues and Avery can feel her body go into flight mode. The uncontrollable thoughts and racing heart only a second away from taking over. What if she doesn’t take me seriously? What if she is so good that Tom fires me? What if- all of those thoughts cease as she hears Harry’s voice ring through her head. You’re okay, Ave. With his words repeating in her head like a mantra, she smiles at Sarah, takes a deep breath, and lets those other thoughts go with her exhale.
"Hey, I'm Avery. It’s really nice to meet you!" She extends out her hand to the girl in front of her, focusing all her concentration on stopping its incessant shaking,but instead of Sarah returning the gesture, she simply looks at her outstretched hand before turning her attention back to Tom.
"So. how often would I be working?"
With a sigh, Tom runs a nervous hand through his already ruffled hair. "We'd have to figure that out. During the week, Monday and Tuesday are the busiest, so it would probably be best for you both to work together. On the weekend we will definitely need two sets of hands on deck. As for the rest of the week, we will have to work that out once we get everything set in stone.”
She nods, letting her eyes roam through the room before retreating back to his figure. She looked at him as if she were waiting for something, like she was executing him to say something more. "Right... so Avery will be the one showing you around this morning! I have to make a few phone calls before we open up for the day... Avery?"
"Let's begin the tour!" She murmurs quickly. Avery links her hands behind her back to hide their shaking that has yet to stop. Tom sends her a thankful smile and disappears into the back room, leaving Sarah and Avery to the day's task.
"So... uhm... the first thing done every morning is to set up the floor, we need to put the chairs down around the tables.” Avery explains, her voice breaking after every few words. “Our outdoor seating is stacked in the back since… as you probably know, it is winter…”
Sarah does not move to do anything, opting to watch Avery clumsily remove the chairs from the tables. The sounds of the chairs being put onto the ground was, unknowingly, making Avery jump "And then I put the menus on the table and a little candle cause uhm… it adds a nice, comforting touch."
"You're very jumpy" Sarah’s comment comes off cross. With her arms crossed tightly over her chest and the look of near disgust on her face, she continues to stare Avery down, demanding some type of explanation.
"Pardon?"
"You're like..." The brunette proceeds to pull her shoulders up, recreating Avery's uptight posture and her quivering hands. "and you speak too quietly. I really can't understand you when you don't speak up."
"Sorry..." Even with Sarah complaining about her quiet voice, her apology came out in a whisper. She hoped, more than anything, that the girl would stop mimicking her. She couldn't stand looking at it. She couldn't stand it because she knew that it was accurate. She knew that she really looked like that, she knew it, and even she hated looking at it. How could anyone stand to look at her when she can’t even look at herself?
"What did you say?"
"I'm sorry." She repeats, this time a bit louder. With a sudden wave of tears, her vision is becoming blurred, and her words are beginning to shake. She has not been picked apart like this in a long time.
"Are you gonna cry?" Sarah asks, brows raised and a devilish smirk on her face. What is she trying to do? Why is she talking to me like this?
“I'm not. " Avery quickly wipes her eyes before retreating behind the main counter, starting to turn on the various coffee machines and checking over their delivery reports.
"Aren’t you supposed to be explaining what you are doing? That’s what Tom said, anyway. " Sarah questions, sitting down on a bar stool in front of Avery, resting her elbows on the counter.
"I’m sorry, but I am not in the mood anymore," She continues to face away from the girl, focusing her attention on putting their baked goods into their display windows.
"Oh, is someone upset?"
"Please stop talking to me like that!" Avery exclaims, but her voice is still so frail that the message holds no confidence. It was more of a plea than a real request.
"I just think someone your age should be able to handle things better. No need to get upset over a simple comment." Sarah shrugs, but before she can say anything else Tom comes back with a confident smile on his face. Avery assumes that his call went well. She’s glad that something did.
"Alright girls, how is everything coming along?" His gaze switches between the two, Sarah has a beaming smile on her face while Avery’s eyes are so focused on a report that she is sure she could burn a hole straight through it.
"Great!” Sarah grins, gracefully standing up. "Avery and I get along great. I hope you consider for me this job, I really adore this little café."
"Oh well that's great!" Tom smiles. "I will get back to you soon about the position. Have a good day!"
"Thank you so much! You both have a great day yourselves!" Sarah grins, shaking his hand. "It was really nice to meet you, Avery." She adds before grabbing her umbrella and walking out into the rain.
"So, what do you think? Did she get the hang of everything?" Tom asks, taking over Sarah's place and sitting down on one of the bar stools.
"She's really great, Tom." Avery could hear the hesitancy in her lie, but she was glad that Tom did not pick up on it.
"Great."
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"One bite" Harry argues, taking the pizza piece out of the cardboard box and holding it out to Avery just to see her shake her head.
"I'm not hungry, Harry" She murmurs , sipping instead a bit of her peppermint tea and leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. The small lie fell from her lips without a second thought, but Harry noticed it right as the words hit his ears.
Seconds after her shift ended at the cafe, Avery was rushing out the door. More than eager to retreat back to the safety of her flat. She hadn't been settled for more than a minute before Harry was knocking on her door. The unannounced visitor had her on edge, but opening the door to his calming figure holding a pizza box was a nice surprise.
"You need to eat something, Ave" He sighs, placing the piece back in the carton before sitting down next to her. The first thing Harry noticed after arriving at her flat was her demeanor. Her spirits seemed dimmed, her hands shakier than he liked, all the light had vanished from her eyes. Their dullness and pale tone of her skin made her look like that of a ghost.
At the party she had seemed fine, tired yes, but overall okay, and now she looked far from it. Harry immediately regrets the cup of coffee he brewed her the previous night, he had helped her with avoiding sleep. feeding into the problem that is so desperate for a solution.
"When was the last time you got a few decent hours of sleep?" He asks quietly.
"I'm not going to sleep," Harry reaches his arm towards her, trying to ground her, but she rose up from her spot on the couch too soon. His arm falling back to his side. He watched as she collected empty teacups, their saucers, and put them into the sink. As the faucet was turned on, sponge lathered in soap, Harry made his way to Avery's side.
"You need to sleep," He sighs, carefully placing a hand on her arm in an attempt to lead her away from the dishes.
"You look sick, love."
"I can't," She shakes his hand off, stepping back towards the sink. In a drowsy haze, she stumbled over her sock clad feet, almost hitting her head on the counter. Before she can comprehend what has happened, two arms lace themselves around her waist, gently pulling her into the safety of a warm chest. "please just leave. I’ll be okay."
Her pleas are softly shushed, Harry gently swaying them from side to side. With her back to his chest, Avery clings to his arms, her head falling to his shoulder.
"Look at me please...." His whispered request brings tears to Avery's tired eyes. She's too scared to look at him. To let him see her like this. She knows that once he looks at her he will insist on sleep. Part of her wants him to leave, solely because she won’t have to rest. So she can clean the few dishes in the sink, listen to the quiet murmurs of the TV set, and let her tears run freely. But she can’t, she knows that.
Harry can sense her quiet contemplation, so he gently turns her around, puts both his hands at the side of her face, making her look at him. His thumbs caressing the soft skin of her cheeks.
"I'll be right here next to you, okay? As soon as I notice there's something wrong I'll wake you up. I promise."
"You don't get it."
"No, I don't, but I'm trying. I just want to help you, Ave. This is not how you should deal with this... this is not how you should deal with your sadness." Harry whispers, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She looks shocked at his words, their honesty too loud to ignore.
"I'm not sad, not always."
"I know." He places a kiss on her forehead before pulling her small frame to his chest, still swaying.
"I don't want you to leave, Harry" Her arms tighten around him. "I didn't mean to say that."
"It's okay, we're fine."
Avery is the first to step back, glancing over the kitchen before grabbing Harry’s hand. She leads him over to the untuned piano, silently signalling for him to sit on the bench before laying across it herself, resting her head in his lap.
"Before we go to bed can you play me something on the piano? please?"
He smiles down at her, her tone holding a sense of innocence he had never heard from her before. One he assumes was taken away far too early.
"What song do you fancy hearing this late at night?"
"Anything you like, but with lyrics, please. I like your singing voice."
"I think that can be arranged."
As his fingers card over the keys so effortlessly, Avery blocks out all thoughts. Her mind free from any fear, any worry. Her only focus being his voice.
Today I met a woman, I don’t think you know...
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hacked-by-jake · 4 years ago
Text
Was that Jake there 2
Part 1
Pairing: JakexMc
Words: 4,2k
A/N: So, a few days ago I got an absolutely sweet comment from @captainwanderlust78❤️
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Really, you made my last week. And then unfortunately the news came from Everbyte that EP 7 will come later. And actually, there wasn’t a second part planned for this story, but since you wanted one so much, here we are. This is my second attempt, because I wrote a part that I didn’t like. I tried to keep the story a little more quiet this time. Anyway, I hope you like it and apologize for possible mistakes. Oh and Merry Christmas. 🌲❤️
--
"Ready little ones?" Dan asks you and pokes you with his elbow.
"Yes, I’m ready," you answer and look at the big clock in the motel lobby.
Point 12 at midday.
"I’ll be gone," you say goodbye to the others.
"Take care of yourself and call me if you need anything," Richy informs you.
"Yeah, or if he attacks you," hiss Dan.
"Dan" hisses Jessy and steps on his foot.
"Ouch" growls Dan and looks at her accusingly.
Jessy is just ignoring this and calls after you, "See you later".
Slowly but with firm steps you make your way to the elevator.
Immediately the doors open and you get in and press the button for floor three.
The place the place where you meet is going to be a motel room that can’t be used because of renovation.
This is the perfect place to meet Jake.
He will come over the fire escape behind the motel to the third floor and there you meet in the room.
Deciding how and when the meeting will take place was quite awkward.
Yesterday after you guys finished partying at the club, you and Jessy called a cab as planned to take you home to Jessy. Fortunately, everything worked out, until the taxi driver drove to the roadside in the middle of the drive and simply switched off the engine.
Immediately all the alarms were on in your head, and you were ready to get out of the car if necessary.
He turned to you in the back and silently held a note to you.
The paper was folded very small, you opened it and saw many ones and zeros.
0100100001100101011011000110110001101111 010011010110001100001010
Grinning, you rolled your eyes.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" Jessy wonders.
"This is a binary code," you explain to her and pull your phone out of your pocket.
"Ah now I know what that is, of course," she grumbles ironically.
"This is computer language"
You search the Internet for a code translator.
You took a picture of the notes, the translator took the numbers and translated them directly.
"Hello Mc" you read, "Is this serious?".
The driver silently held out a note to you.
You also open this note and moan desperately.
"Can’t he just write normal letters?" you mumble and take a deep breath.
"He’s a computer nerd, they’re all weird," answers the man who was supposed to be just a taxi driver.
01010100 01101111 01101101 01101111 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110111
00001010 01000100 01101111 01101111 01110010 01100010 01100101 01101100 01101100 00001010 01010000 01101100 01100001 01101110
01100110 01101111 01110010
01100111 01110101 01111001
00001010
"Tomorrow morning, doorbell, plan for guy" is the translation.
"Huh?" makes Jessy next to you.
"I’ve got another one," the guy calls again.
"One more? Why not write everything on a piece of paper?"
"Clay said it was too confusing"
"Clay?"
"Oh, Jake, excuse me" he grins and holds out the third note.
01001101 01100101 01100101 01110100 00001010 00110001 00110010
"Meet
12 o'clock
"Midday"
"Okay, so, there’s a man ringing in the morning and he wants me to tell him the plan but the meeting has to be at 12:00," you put it all together.
"Right" the man agrees with you and starts the car again.
"Wait, You knew what that meant?"
"Yes, but we should talk as little as possible, that’s why the notes" he explains to you.
"But I said it out loud"
"Yes, right"
After that, he didn’t speak, but at least you didn’t have to pay.
Well, and then 20 minutes later, you and Jessy took the next taxi back to Roger’s garage, and there you all met again to work out the plan.
Lilly told Mrs Walter she didn’t have to work today. Lilly would take her shift and the owner should have a nice day with Alfie.
After a little persuasion it worked and Lilly is the only one who has to work.
There are only 13 rooms occupied in the entire motel, and only two of them are on the third floor, so the room with the renovation fits best.
This morning at 7 o'clock, a flower messenger rang at Jessy’s house, and you stared at the roses and then at the man.
"Gohstbusters" he said and you understood what to do.
You gave him a note stating the plan for the meeting.
However, written in hieroglyphs.
But there is also a translator on the Internet.
The elevator doors open and you look around.
No one is to be seen so you make yourself on the way to the room which is at the very end of the corridor.
With the key card you got from Lilly, you can open the door, hold the card against the sensor and the door cracks quietly. You press the door inwards and notice that there’s light on.
However, of course you did not expect that a man sitting in the room on the desk chair.
"Oh, God," you jump back a step.
The man looks up and immediately looks worried.
"Oh my God," you murmur as you realizes it’s just Jake.
Completely out of breath, you lean with your hands on your knees and breathe deeply.
"Oh shit, MC, I didn’t mean to." He murmurs and comes up to you.
You laugh in agony and grin forced.
"Ha uhm already okay, all right, I was not scared".
A small but quiet laugh comes from Jake’s mouth.
He’s going to the side so you can come in. He locks the door behind you.
"How did you get in here?" You ask and try to calm your heart that feels like it’s jumping out of your chest.
"The doors are not safe for hackers," he explains, sitting back on the chair.
"You hacked a motel door?" you ask amused.
"Yes, you weren’t there yet, but I couldn’t stay in front of the door. That would have been more than conspicuous," he argues.
You just shake your head and let yourself fall on the bed. For a moment it is quiet, only the ticking of the clock can be heard.
"Thank you for coming," you speak in silence.
"Hm yes" is the answer.
"You’re still against it, aren’t you?" you ask unsure.
"MC, please don’t think I wouldn’t want to see you too, but I won’t be reassured until you’re safe again," he explains.
"How are you?" you change the subject.
"I am fine, and you?"
You roll your eyes, "Don’t tell me everything at once," you say ironically.
A smile appears on his face.
"Honestly not so good" he admits.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, it’s okay" he declines. You pull up an eyebrow and you look at him in a challenging way, "Okay, then in a different way. Tell me what’s going on," you challenge him and leave no room for a negative answer.
You point to the bed next to you and signal him to sit next to you.
He thinks briefly but then does what you want
"Well, it’s all pretty stressful right now," he starts.
"Okay good, and keep going" attentively you look at him.
He finally surrenders and begins to report.
"There were some problems that we didn’t expect, they almost caught us. We could only cross a border with a lot of luck and help, but that took us quite some time. And then I made a stupid mistake, the pursuers were able to intercept our signal. As a result, I had to burn my laptop and cell phone so that nothing could be found.
That took us some time too. The agents are much better than I thought, they are much too fast and much too good and that makes it really hard for me. And for the others, too. And what’s even harder is, that I can’t write to you anymore. I dont know how far along you are, or if you have new clues, new key results, how far along you are with Hannah, but even worse, I don’t know how you’re doing. How you feel or if you have problems, and that makes my head full all day with questions that revolve around you. Sometimes we manage to access the Internet for a short time through public computers in libraries or cafes. But contacting you would be too dangerous. I can delete a lot of data from the system but as I said, the agents are better than I thought and unfortunately we do not know exactly how well and how much they can get back. I would have to take every computer with me and burn it down, but that would be even worse if computers were suddenly missing everywhere. It’s shitty MC, I’m honest, I hate this situation, but it’s my own fault"
exhausted, he rubs his face.
Wow okay, that was very honest.
Worried you look at him.
You could say things like "everything’s gonna be okay" or "it’s not your fault." But let’s face it, it’s not helping anyone. So the only logical way is to just hug him tight, and that’s exactly what you’re doing.
You slide a little closer to him and wrap your arms around his upper body and lean your head against his shoulder. Unlike yesterday, he does not tense himself but also gently lays his arms around your body. Immediately, its smell rises in your nose and tingles through your body. You notice how relief spreads in your body. Relief that he’s doing reasonably well, that he’s still free, that he’s here with you, that he’s hugging you, too. But above all, relief because it feels like every pressure is dropping from you, all the pressure of the last few weeks. The pressure because of Hannah, the pressure because of the man without a face, and of course the pressure that something might have happened to Jake. At least for a brief moment, everything is fine, and that makes you happy. And if you think about he’s gonna have to leave soon, you’re gonna get sick. But you don’t want to think about the negative things now, you just want to enjoy the moment, just a brief moment of rest.
You have closed your eyes and hear Jake’s heart beat rhythmically, which also calms you down. You remove an arm from his body and place your hand on his left chest. You can feel his heart just coming out of rhythm and then beating a little faster than before. This also makes your heart beat a little faster.
"You Jake?" you whisper softly.
"Mhh?" he makes a questioning sound.
"Who are the others?"
"They’re familiar to me. The three were also involved in the government project and now they are also in danger," he says briefly.
"Okay?" your voice sounds questioning.
"We know each other from different chat portals for hackers"
Thus, all your questions were answered. For this moment.
Slowly you break away from each other, even if you don’t want to, but it’s no use.
"I still have to thank Lilly and you" he addresses your #IamJake action.
"You don’t have to thank either of us, Lilly owed it to both of us, and I do it because I want,"  you assure him.
"But still, it’s not understandable, I hope it will help us. The idea was really good. The others were quite fascinated when they saw this, "he praises you and his half-sister.
"You deserve it, too, Jake," you reaffirm your action even more.
Ironically he laughs, "with what?"
"In which you are, and also do everything to find Hannah, even if she doesn’t know you’re her half-brother. And Lilly also understood that we both just wanted to help."
"That might have been a little selfish of me. I just wanted you guys to make up because I don’t know where this is going with the two of us. And I wanted to take the opportunity early" he confesses.
"I can live with that" a little smile is on your face.
He doesn’t know where this is going with us, and he wanted you and his half-sister to make up.
"I’m sorry, MC but -" he starts.
You sigh, "but we still have something to discuss," you finish his sentence.
"I’m sorry, but we only charged three hours at the most, then I have to go "he looks at you apologetically.
"It’s okay, let’s not talk about it now".
You really don’t want to talk about it right now. The conversation will come soon enough. Jake gets his backpack on the desk and takes out his laptop.
Then he sits down next to you again and asks you to give him your phone.
Quickly, a connection is established and the screen of your phone is displayed on the laptop.
And so you begin to discuss everything that’s happened since he was gone.
-
By now you had arrived at Lilly’s and your chat.
"You really called her Duskwood’s worst legend?" Jake asks a little overwhelmed if he can laugh about it.
"Um, I was a little mad," you smile innocently at him.
"Remind me not to argue with you" he looks at you briefly from the side and grins crooked.
"I like to argue sometimes" challenging, you look at him.
"Yes, I noticed that, so we prefer not to"
Quietly, he continues to read the chat while you wait to see if he has any questions.
From the side you see his eyes suddenly get a little bigger and he swallows.
"Everything okay?" you ask him immediately.
"So we’re in love?" he asks teasingly.
It takes a short time to remember the message, immediately you get warm and your cheeks turn red.
Then you laugh a little hysterical.
"Um, haha that- that, uhm yes..." you stutter.
Jake raises an eyebrow.
"Um, yeah, I can explain that," nervously you start playing with your hands and scratching your neck in turns.
"Uhm, so - on that point I didn’t know, uhm, what relationship you and Lilly have. So this - I didn’t know you both were siblings, and then I kind of wanted to piss them off. Well, I- I thought it might upset Lilly or something".
You don’t even know if that’s true, you just said it without thinking. Maybe it’s true, but he doesn’t want anyone know it, or it‘s just going too fast for him.
You wish for nothing more than for the floor to swallow you.
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have written that. I hope I didn’t make you feel stupid or anything, that’s the last thing I want, can we just forget about it?" you murmur in shame.
You look at the tips of your shoes so you don’t have to look at Jake.
"Lilly was right," Jake murmurs into the unpleasant silence.
"I didn’t like that they voted against you in the vote. They treated you unfairly, I didn’t like that at all," he admits, "I felt the need to at least scare the others. Which was not quite okay, but I couldn’t watch them treat you like this".
You’re looking at him.
"It was for Hannah, because you will be the key, but I could have just written a message, but that was not enough for me".
You can’t hold back a slight grin.
"Thank you" is all you can say.
"Is it true?" he harks curiously.
"Huh? What?" you act like you didn’t understand his question
"Well, what you wrote to Lilly"
"You know I like you," you confirm.
In response, you get just another big smile from Jake as he just keeps looking at the screen.
However, he omits the end of the chat, at the point where you got the video.
He knows probably after that it’s about his family.
"I’m very proud of you MC" he starts to talk, "you two worked really well together and I’m amazed how well you were able to solve the puzzles".
A little shy about his praise, you just thanked him.
Exhausted, you fall back on the bed.
Jake closes his laptop, puts it back in his pocket and then slowly lies down next to you.
"I haven’t asked you how you are actually doing" he notes a little depressed.
"At least better than in the last few weeks. It’s all very exhausting, but I can do it" you mumble and turn your head to the left so you can look at him.
His page profile is really beautiful.
"We met at a very strange time," Jake mutters, and he also turns his head in your direction.
For a moment, you look at each other silently.
"You are so wonderful and especially MC, do you know that?" he breathes.
"I don’t know, is that me?" you ask quietly.
"So wonderful that I don’t understand why you’re lying here with me"
"Maybe because you’re special, too, Jake. And even more wonderful than all the people I’ve met so far" you reciprocate his sweet compliment and mean every word seriously.
"Are you sure about this?"
"To 100 percent"
"You deserve someone better than me," he sighs.
"Stop lying," you grinned.
Now you both look at each other silently again, only the second hand and the birds from outside can be heard.
Slowly Jake raises a  hand and wipes a strand of hair from your face.
You take his hand in yours and you cross your fingers with each other.
Jake looks thoughtfully at your hands.
"It’s dangerous what we’re doing here," he mutters.
"You can take that little break, Jake. That's okay," you calm him down.
"Maybe, but it’s dangerous to be here with you. You get such big problems if the persecutors find out you know me," he easily squeezes your hand.
"Jake, don’t worry about it. I know who I’m dealing with and I know it can end badly. But that’s why I don’t care, if we don’t risk it now, it may be too late. And then we’ll never know if it would’ve worked.
At the moment everything is going crazy, so why not at least do what you want for a short time?"
"You should become a motivational trainer" he suggests for fun.
"Do you think? Did my speech help?"
"I agree with your words, but I have so much more to lose. My freedom and looking for Hannah, but those are just the little things. The biggest problem is that I could never live with myself if you got problems just because I was selfish. Against these problems the man without face is nothing, MC. If you go to jail because of me, I could never forgive myself, you understand. And that’s my problem, I don’t know if I can risk it, I don’t want to ruin your whole life.
You made new friends here, when Hannah gets back, you’ll be completely happy, but then there’s me. The guy who runs from the government, that’s not what you deserve", he tries desperately to explain.
"That’s also why I don’t tell you what exactly I did, why I tell you as little as possible. You can’t say anything if you know nothing no matter what they do, you don’t know it. If the agents find you, they definitely do a lie-detector test with you, and hopefully, they won’t do any more than that. But if you don’t know anything, you’re not in danger either."
"I understand your point, I understand your worries and your fear, but, Jake, I’m aware of all of this. I know what happens if you and I can be connected, but I accept it for you and for Hannah."
"But that’s the thing, you shouldn’t put yourself in danger for this, not even for Hannah. And you being in Duskwood is dangerous enough, which is why I’m here with you, because it’s too dangerous."
You pull up an eyebrow and look skeptical.
"You don’t have to take care of me.What   should happen to me? I won’t be alone.One of the others will always be with me. The man without a face can’t do anything to me, "you calm him down.
"I know, I know, but I’m still worried about you"
"But there’s nothing you can do about it, Jake. And the rest of the time we have left, we shouldn’t discuss things we can’t influence. None of us can change the situation"
"I don’t like that you’re right again" he grumbles what makes you smile.
"Do you know I’m happy right now?" you tell him softly, "because of you."
"Why?"
"Because I know you’re doing reasonably well, and because you’re here with me.
And you’re risking your freedom right now because I wished for this meeting. Then how could I not trust you, Jake? You deserve me to be here with you. And that’s also one reason why I don’t care if they get me, you confided in me even though you’re in a difficult time. You trusted me and that’s why I trust you" to support your words, you put his hand on your lips and breathe a short kiss on the back of his hand.
Like he’s petrified, he’s watching you.
"I think I’m really in love," he whispers.
"And I think I’m in love with you too" you giggle softly.
Minimally you slide closer to him and lean slightly with your elbow on the bed to push you a bit upwards.
As if he were considering whether this is a good idea, he eventually slips closer to you, but a lot more than you.
He also leans on the bed to be back on your height, your hands remain united all the time.
His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand.
Not ten centimeters separates your faces from each other.
Jake takes the initiative and leans even further up so that your faces almost touches. You feel his breath on your skin and your body is flooded with excitement. It’s like they just touched by accident.
Slowly, your faces move towards each other until your lips gently touch. But it’s enough to light a fire in you and get Jake to press his lips on yours.
Immediately you close your eyes and return the kiss with as much feeling as he did. You can’t control yourself and grin into the kiss, which also makes Jake smile.
Jake pulls you up to you and pushes you slightly on the bed so you can use your hands more.
But just as quickly the kiss becomes passionate again. A thousand different feelings are buzzing in your head. Despair, fear, happiness, contentment. And that is reflected in your kiss.
Now your two hands separate from each other and Jake wraps both arms around your upper body. You feel a little dizzy and feel like everything is spinning even if you have your eyes closed. Your body tries to cope with all the feelings of happiness and seems to be overwhelmed. Actually, it’s no wonder. You’ve never longed so much for closeness but with Jake now, it’s very different. The kiss last night,
it was beautiful. But that was a very different situation than it is now.you were overwhelmed and a little drunk. First the warm air in the club, then Phil, then suddenly Jake, a kiss, a deal, and then a weird cab driver. All quite a lot at once, but now you can enjoy the kiss, and it’s a very different one from yesterday. This is a relief for both of you, and the beginning of something greater, but also the beginning of an even more stressful time than before. 'Cause how you’re supposed to let Jake go right now, you absolutely don’t know.
You feel like your eyes are filling with tears because of the emotional overload that is currently running through your body. And unfortunately, you two seem to be really starting to have trouble breathing, so you’re must breaking up with each other with a heavy heart. Absolutely out of breath, Jake leans his forehead against yours.
"If the persecutors find me, beat me, okay?" he breathes hard. "Okay, but why?" you giggle.
"Because then I screwed up to be able to kiss you all the time."
In response, you laugh and give him another kiss. You could lie there forever like right now, but Jake’s phone suddenly starts ringing. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes but then stands up from the bed.He gets his cell phone out of his pocket and accepts the call. Instantly you assume the worst. The others are calling to tell him they have to leave. You don’t know how to react and your hands start to shake. His answers leave no room to speculate about what it’s all about, and his facial expressions and posture remain neutral. Shortly after he finishes the phone call, he blows out air and turns to you. You’re already struggling with the tears in your eyes as Jake starts smiling." Well, I think we need to rent a room at the motel."
Confused you look at him, "W-what do you mean?"
"We’ll be safe for the next few days, someone pretending to be me tried to hack the CIA. They think they’ve arrested me"
------
extra material:
"That’s her," he says in a much too high tone. "It’s an honor to finally meet you, I feel like I know you better than Jake knows you. Can you actually scan my personality? Jake always tells me that you are really good at seeing through people and assess" he babbles.
"Oh, is he telling you this?" you ask and grin at Jake.
"Oh yes, if you knew, When he can’t sleep, he tells a lot about you. He doesn’t usually talk that much in a year," giggles Jake’s buddy.
"Max" hisses Jake and looks at him hard.
"And he’s always telling you how impressive you are, and that he’s amazed you don’t have a problem with him being a hacker. And how sweet you are."
"Okay, that’s enough" growls Jake and pushes him. The pushed one begins to laugh and raises his hands up defensively.
"Do you tell such things?" you look amused at him.  "Forget that, please," he grumbles.  "Oh, I’ll never be able to forget that, but to be fair, I’m thrilled with you, too. And you don’t look bad either." You grin cheekily at him.
--
Masterlist🌹🎭
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anntoldst0ries · 4 years ago
Text
Everything else is just the weather
Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: ~5.3k (I sinned!) Summary: Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. Category: Fluff Warnings: None
A/N: It has literally taken me ages to finish this fic. To the point that I couldn’t look at it anymore, but here it is. I had it in mind for a really long time and now that OH is back, I feel like I’m ready to show it to the world. As always thank you for your support and I hope you like it!
This fic is part 2 of birthday present for my friend, part 1 is the fan art which you can see here. Once you read the fic, the fan art makes more sense :)
This is my submission for CFWC Silly Love Stories, Day 12: Date night.
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Loud knocks resonated throughout the room. 
"Come in!"
"Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”
“Good morning, Dr Valentine. I think you are the only doctor in this hospital with some sort of manners, everyone else just waltzes in here as if it was a damn barn!”
“Hospital or no hospital, everyone has their right to privacy.”
“Thank you, child. Once again, please call me Faye."
"Alright Faye, but only if you call me Elle.” She smiled sweetly, and the whole room seemed to be suddenly lit by a thousand suns.
“How are you feeling? Are the meds making a difference?"
"They are. I am ready to be discharged today.”
"Not so fast. I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet."
“Why would you possibly like to be lumbered with an old nuisance like me for even a second longer than necessary?”
Elle just laughed and shook her head. The ‘nuisance’, as the elderly lady so lovingly put it, was exactly what she loved about her job. She loved spending time with her patients, she loved their stories and their worldly wisdom. It made her sad to see how many of them thought they didn’t matter or considered themselves and their lives boring. To her, they were anything but. 
Many of Edenbrook’s staff members kept asking themselves: what is it about her? She was a great doctor, no two ways about it, and she was a genuinely nice person. But what was the source of power she had over people? If she woke up one day and decided to start a rebellion, patients would have most certainly followed her, even if it meant they’d be leaving the premises of the hospital with naked butts or trailing their IVs behind them. Doctors, nurses, administration, cleaners and security would follow shortly. She only had to say a word.
And how on Earth was she capable of turning Dr Ramsey, the grizzly bear of Edenbrook, into a benign teddy bear with as little as one look? It was beyond everyone’s apprehension.
Had they spent more time actually observing her, rather than gossiping in the corners, the answer would have unveiled in front of them within minutes.
It was very simple.
Noelle was truly curious about people. She genuinely liked them and was determined to get to know their story, for it helped her diagnose them faster and also satiated the young doctor’s hunger for knowledge.
Patients never felt like “curious cases” or “numbers” in her presence. They were… themselves - people with hopes, dreams, fears, pet peeves and odd habits. They were human. 
So little and yet so much.
Those never touched by serious illnesses often failed to understand that sickness strips you of your dignity and becomes your identity. Your true self becomes covered by this weird, annoying sticker that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard you tried to remove it. 
But this young woman, despite the nature of her profession, somehow managed to notice what was hiding beneath this misleading layer.
Had all these gossipers spoken to her patients, that’s exactly what they would have heard.
"What's happening today?" The older lady asked with a flick of curiosity in her wrinkle-haloed eyes.
"What do you mean, Faye?" The young doctor sounded genuinely baffled by the out-of-the-blue question.
"Well, I am no diagnostician, but I believe I am rather observant and you radiate with happiness. Something special is happening today, am I right?"
"Yeah, you are right." Elle blushed like a teenager caught in a lie. "My boyfriend is taking me on a surprise date today, but he won’t say a word about it, so I'm super excited to find out what he planned for us. He usually isn't one for romantic gestures, so the secrecy is killing me."
"Do you think he's gonna pop the big question?" Faye’s eyes lit up with excitement.
"No, we're not there...yet." Elle faked a smile, but a tone of doubt and sadness coloured her voice. They probably never will be, those things weren’t in the cards for Ethan, as he already stressed once.
But once was enough and she didn’t dare mention the subject again.
"Well, I'm pretty sure he's got some big guns in store, I would if I had a lady like you." - a male patient lying in the bed adjacent to Elle’s patient added smiling flirtatiously. 
"Jerry, you were supposed to focus on getting better, not stealing my girlfriend." They all jumped when a deep baritone echoed throughout the room, hitting present company like a wrecking ball. She must have left the door ajar or Ethan could penetrate the walls soundlessly, because no one heard him coming.
Exactly how long has he been standing there for and how much did he hear?
"Dr. Ramsey, flirting makes your blood flow faster. Isn't it the very definition of life itself?” Jerry’s tone was brisk and lively.
"Well, it definitely isn't the definition of recovery after a heart attack." Ethan used his authoritative doctor’s voice but knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. Jerry had something he didn't: a couple more decades of life experience under his belt and even the best medical school in the country couldn’t compete with this.  
"Besides, Dr. Ramsey, I don't think that the beautiful Dr. Valentine here fancies old farts like me." 
"That's where you are wrong, Jerry, looks like this is exactly the type I fancy." The two women laughed, however Ethan was far from amused. "Dr. Ramsey is 10 years older than me."
"10 years? What is 10 years in these times? Nothing. When I was getting married 40 years ago, it was something. But today? Look at all them playboys with girls younger than my granddaughter. 10 years is actually a very healthy difference. Men are immature and slower with growing up emotionally. So I'd say you've caught up, Dr. Ramsey, and the two of you are emotional peers now.”
“Thank you for the fascinating lesson in human psychology, Jerry. To think I’ve wasted all this time and money on medical school and no one taught me this.”
“Dr. Ramsey, it’s because schools and useful knowledge are mutually exclusive.”
Elle and Faye were on the verge of bursting out in laughter, but managed to keep their composure and used the non-verbal communication of exchanging glances instead.
Once they made sure their patients had everything they need, Ethan and Elle wished them a good day and promised to stop by in 2 days, as the following day was their day off.
The moment the door closed behind them, Ethan crossed his arms on his chest.
"I lose you from my sight for one second and this happens. 5 more minutes with Jerry and I'd be single again."
"At least no one wants to poke your eyes out for being with me."
"And someone wants to poke yours?"
"Where do I start... nurses, who had a crush on you long before I even set foot in Edenbrook? Female interns? Anyone, who has a pair of functioning eyes and ever looked at you?"
She was adorable when she was doing this, her whole body overtaken by excitement and her hands waving. When she was talking about something really important to her she wasn't just conversing with her mouth, she was doing it with her whole body.
Suddenly, his pager painfully reminded Ethan that this was neither the place nor the time to lose himself in adoration.
"I need to go, I'm completely swamped today and I have my favourite cherry-on-top board meeting. In case I don't see you for the rest of your shift - I’ll pick you up at 7."
He was gone before she was able to form a response. Was it just her or was Dr Ramsey weirdly… nervous?
* * * * * * * *
At 7pm sharp, Ethan Ramsey curled his palm in a fist and gently knocked. The door opened in an instant, as if someone knew he'd been standing there for the past few minutes.
"Ethan! I mean Dr. Ramsey...please come in!" Sienna squeaked with nervous excitement as she let him in.
"Outside of Edenbrook Ethan is just fine, Sienna. If you don't mind me calling you by your first name, of course."
"Mm..mme? No, yes, I mean... Elle is on the balcony." She tried to hide her embarrassment and motioned towards the tall windows surrounding the living room. Some time ago, he would have been oddly proud to have such an intimidating effect on people - nowadays, more than anything, he was amused. Has he really changed so much?
The answer to his question was leaning against the railing, glass of wine in her hand. Gauzy, flowery dress enveloped her frame and tanned skin. 
For Ethan, it was as clear as crystal: summer had the face and scent of Noelle Valentine.
Long before she started leaving her toothbrush in his apartment and sleeping in his old JH t-shirts, Ethan noticed that whenever he laid eyes on her, his whole body started acting in a very irrational way. His doctor’s instincts prompted him to think of all types of biological causes and chemical reactions in the brain. Then, when he sort of admitted to himself it’s not just pure science, Ethan leaned towards the forbidden fruit theory - the more he couldn’t have his drug, the more he was craving it.
But the feeling never disappeared. Whenever he wouldn’t see her for a while - be that an hour, a day, or just when she went to take a shower or make a coffee - the very moment her face came into his view again, he felt his stomach somersaulting.
Every. Single. Time.
It wasn’t any different now.
"Drinking without me?"
She almost dropped the glass when his voice stopped the train of thought in her head. But then she saw his face, the way too seldom relaxed muscles and a barely-there smile.
A perfectly tailored shirt clung to his torso marvellously. If not in medicine, he surely would have made a name for himself in the fashion industry. Fortunately for her, the idea never crossed his mind. 
The warm wind blew in her face, carrying the scent of expensive cologne which overwhelmed her nostrils. She didn’t know this one, so it must have been new. But she did know that smelling it for the whole evening while staring at his handsome face will be a pure torture.
Simply put, she was a goner.
"I don't know why, but I was quite nervous. Had to summon the courage somehow.”
“As you should be. After all, it's not every day that one goes on their first date."
She looked at him as if she’d just been told that a UFO landed on the roof.
“On a what?”
"Well, I was thinking a lot lately about how we never had a first date. Nothing was ever...typical with us. I promised myself I will do my best to fix things that caused you pain or deprived you of the things you deserved. Maybe I cannot fix some immediately, but this one I can, so I will."
Her eyes, overbrimming with affection struck him like thousand lightnings. Thank god a comfortable silence fell between them - had she asked him a question, it would have been clear that right now he is nothing but a simpering moron.
With this in mind, he took his hands from behind his back, holding a small bouquet of pink gerberas.
"These are my favourites." Her face instantly illuminated at the well known sight and smell. "How did you know?”
"I had some amazing helpers."
Elle instantly turned her head left and looked inside, where grinning, Sienna was showing her the thumbs up.
"Wow, now I actually wish I'd downed the whole bottle."
"I'm glad you didn't. I want to go on a date with a woman, not her lifeless body, even though the body itself is very appealing. Shall we?”
“King of compliments…”
* * * * * * * *
"You actually look like you are having a good time, Dr Ramsey.”
"Why wouldn't I? There is alcohol, sitting under the sky definitely has its charm and the company is acceptable." She playfully swatted his arm, the gesture a quick reminder of how comfortable they felt with each other, something he constantly remembered to never take for granted.
“Although I love this, I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way outside Boston, I’m pretty sure the rooftop bars are pretty acceptable there, too. A bit more crowded though, that’s for sure.”
“Are you complaining about the fact that we have this entire place to ourselves? I know the owner and he was indebted to me.”
“Of course he was.” Looks like the whole town is indebted to Ethan freakin’ Ramsey.
“With regards to why I brought you here… you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Gosh. She couldn’t decide whether the mysterious side of Ethan Ramsey was hot as hell or annoying as hell. But she didn’t really have time to contemplate, because her companion asked her a question.
“Why did you become a doctor?” The ocean eyes pierced her to the core and she had a feeling that even if she was the best actress in the world, there was no way she’d be able to hide something from this man.
“That’s a terrible change of subject. Also, I must have told you like a million times already.”
“No, you never told me.”
When she looked at him and really, really thought about it… she suddenly realised Ethan was right. Elle told the story so many times she sort of… assumed she told Ethan, too. 
“Are you sure you want to hear it today? It’s a pretty sad story, a mood killer I’d say.”
“It’s what makes you you, so yes, I want to hear all about it - the good, the bad and the indifferent.”
“I’ll tell you, but I need to ask something first. Why now? We’ve known each other for a while and you just… I just sort of assumed this isn’t the type of conversation you’d like to hold.”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Ethan’s expression was gentle, not a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many things about you that I don’t know. At first, I didn’t want to ask, because asking these questions meant admitting that there is something more between us. What a fail would that be, after I’ve mastered the art of denial.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a bitter or a nervous laugh, it was a genuine banter between them, as the British half of her soul liked to call it. “But you made me want to dig deeper.”
Was it the heat that made her catch her breath, or did it have nothing to do with the temperature?
“Plus, this is sort of what first dates are for, right? I’m sorry for skipping right to the more complex questions. It’s not that I don’t want to know what you were afraid of as a child, I want to know all the details… but it feels like the atmosphere calls for something…bigger.”
So she told him all about her friend, how she fell ill, how she couldn’t be saved and how the experience wreaked havoc on her whole life, tears glistening in her eyes at the mere memory of the events that shaped who she was today.
Ethan listened, his whole body tense and eyes transfixed. She was giving him one of the most fragile parts of her and he had to make sure his hands were there to catch, carry and care for this treasure.
“And that’s when I realised that if I focused on becoming the best doctor I could be, then maybe one day, I’d be that person who has an answer, who can solve a mystery and save a relationship that means the world to someone. Sometimes, people don’t realise that when a person dies, it’s not only them that’s gone. The part of someone who stays, who has to deal with the whole ‘me after you’ - that part is gone, too. So for me, in a way, this meant saving more than one life.”
For a couple of seconds he didn’t move. Then, without saying a single word and with an unreadable expression he got up and offered her a hand, which she silently accepted. He led her to the railing, where the sun was slowly sinking into the boundless waters of Quincy Bay.
His lips found the all too well known way to her forehead, placing a loving kiss on her delicate skin.
“I am so proud of you.” There was something so mesmerising in his whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.
“As a mentor or as a boyfriend?”
“Both. I want you to know that your dedication to people who rely on you is astounding and hardly present in doctors your age. Or any age, for that matter.”
“Wow, Dr Ramsey, smooth. Trying to hit on me with a recycled pick-up line used on a national TV? No wonder you didn’t have too many girlfriends.”
“No, I didn’t. But I believe everyone has a limit of luck they can get per life. And looking at you, I got a couple of lifetimes worth of luck.”
This was enough to render her speechless. She smiled and at this very moment he knew he would do anything to make her smile like this. She wrapped him around her pinky finger and suddenly his whole existence revolved around finding ways of seeing her curve these breathtaking lips as often as possible and making sure he is the reason she smiles… not crying her eyes out.
Although the other didn’t know, because none of them said it out loud, they both thought the same thing.
This feels so right. 
There isn’t a hint of awkwardness in the fact that they can go from being serious or emotionally vulnerable to funny and teasing in seconds.
In one effortless movement, Ethan spun her and pressed her back against his chest.  Then, he started placing a series of tender kisses along her jawline and the crook of her neck, slowly moving towards her shoulder. 
Come on, just say it Ramsey. It doesn’t get any better than this.
He wrapped her palm in his and pointed them towards the sky. 
“There they are - the Little Dipper and the Big Dipper.” Their intertwined fingers were jumping from one tiny flashing point to the other, as if they were playing connect the dots. “And that’s Orion’s Belt.”
“I really don’t get why at this point I’m still surprised that you’re good at everything.”
Elle was drunk on his every word, as this annoying trait of Ethan Ramsey being the know-it-all was actually one of her favourite things about him. 
As for Ethan, he couldn’t help but think that life wasn’t perfect and was never going to be. But this - this moment - it was in fact perfect. Why take chances of ruining it, when so many things can go wrong?
What if she doesn't say it back?
What if she's just gonna laugh at him or tell him he had it all wrong.
What if he misinterpreted everything and she never thought about him this way?
He was terrified of being this exposed. The last person he loved so much left him without batting an eyelid and disappeared for 25 fucking years.
Maybe it was better to live in a perfect illusion than a reality in which there was even a 0.01% chance she doesn't love him back.
So they both drowned in the moment, drifted in the sea of rapture, lost in the illusion that it can all last forever.
It was her who broke the silence.
“I’m getting a bit cold, is it ok if we call it a night?”
“Right, of course.”
“Thank you for the first date, I loved it.”
Handing her his jacket (her favourite, the dark green leather one) Ethan was furious at himself. 
Maybe he was broken. Maybe he will remain broken forever. Maybe that’s the way it must be.
“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” The question slipped his tongue before he was able to fully reflect on it.
“At yours? Unless you have some secret place I don’t know about, just a quick reminder - I live there too.”
“Since this was our first date, I thought it was a gentlemanly thing to ask.”
“In that case… I am afraid I have the ‘after the 3rd date’ sleepover rule, Dr Ramsey.”
* * * * * * * *
The morning came all too soon and the hot, ruthless rays of the rising sun announced that Ethan is now way past his regular wake up and get up time. He barely slept, tossing and turning, replaying every second of the evening in his head.
His hand mindlessly reached for what he hoped to be the familiar curves and softness of the body he adored so much. 
But his palm hit the mattress with a loud thud. The bed was empty. 
The all-too-well known feeling of hopelessness slipped into the doctor's mind with ease. What did he expect? He was acting weird the previous day. First date, what a stupid idea. She must have realised something is wrong with him and finally left.
But before he was able to fully wallow in the mud of pity, the feeling was soon replaced by an old friend Ethan haven’t heard from for a long time.
Panic. 
Where was she? Is she ok? What if something happened to her and he was just sleeping like a log instead of being there to protect her. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her… again. Something grabbed his chest in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. 
Scenes flashed before his eyes, vivid and bright. Their hands touching through the glass wall. Her hand cupping his cheek through the layer of hazmat suit.
He got out of bed at the speed of sound and started running around the apartment, but she was nowhere to be seen. 
Suddenly, he noticed.
The balcony door was opened wide. 
Shit.
Heart in his mouth, Ethan crossed the distance between his kitchen island and the balcony door in the blink of an eye. 
Elle was just serving pancakes outside. The goddamn pancakes. The only thing he couldn’t cook. The one thing she kept teasing him about and he rolled his eyes every time she did.
God, he promised himself he will never learn how to make them, if it meant she would just tease him forever.
She was smiling as widely as ever, putting the sun and everything else in the world to shame. Ethan was still a bit shaken and his uneven breathing gave him away. Elle finally noticed his presence.
“Good morning, I was just about to—“
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They both froze. 
The tension in the silence that had just set in was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
But the silence didn’t last long. As one man, with eyes full of disbelief, they both murmured simultaneously:
“What did you just say?”
This time, he felt obliged to break the silence.
"I...I...I mean, I…" 
Damn it, get it together, idiot.
"I didn't mean to…”
Great, Ramsey, keep digging an even deeper hole for yourself, then crawl in and stay there forever.
"You didn't mean to say it?”
"Yes. No. I mean, damn it, I am making things worse, aren't I?”
She didn’t set him straight.
"The thing is, I wanted to say it yesterday. I had it all planned, I took you for a first date and I wanted to say it for the first time yesterday.”
"Why did it have to be yesterday?”
“Give me a minute.”
She just rolled her eyes, but Ethan didn’t have a chance to notice before disappearing inside. A few moments later he re-emerged, his face and torso covered by a neatly wrapped, rectangle-shaped object.
"What's this?"
"Something you should have unpacked yesterday, but then... life happened."
Elle sat down on cold tiles, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. And just like he did months ago, he took her hand in his, only this time he cupped his own cheek with her palm and placed the most tender kiss on the inside of her hand.
It was her favourite medicine, a remedy for all things wrong. 
He sat beside her and nodded at the mysterious package. With impatience growing inside of her, Elle has torn the paper up.
Inside was a dark blue, framed print - the colour of it an instant reminder of her favourite set of irises.
She studied everything with intent. A circle must have been representing the earth and the irregular dots and lines must have been the stars and constellations. 
"A map of the sky? That's beautiful, Ethan."
He knew immediately that although her delight was sincere, she had absolutely no clue what she was looking at and why she was looking at it.
“It's not just any map of the sky.” Ethan explained gently, hints of pride colouring his voice. “It's a map of the Boston sky from exactly a year ago. Well, a year and a day.” He smiled faintly, now a shade of sorrow in his enchanting voice.
Silence. Was she supposed to know what that meant?
“Aren’t you full of mysteries today? Ok, you need to throw me a lifebelt here. What's so special about the sky from a year and a day ago?”
“For the world? Probably not too much. For me? Everything.”
At this stage of their relationship, she knew a lot about Ethan’s behaviours, triggers, his body language. And not just a relationship as a couple, but also everything that came before Ethan became someone she was running through life with (the life of two doctors in one of the busiest and most prestigious hospitals was certainly not a walk in the park).
But it still fascinated her how his demeanour changed whenever the subject was serious, whenever he was talking about something that truly mattered to him. It was as if he’d stripped down of all the layers and let her look into his bare soul. These rare moments of vulnerable intimacy meant more to her than any night of passion they ever shared.
Her eyes turned to him in pledge, because as much as she wanted to, Dr Valentine still couldn’t fully comprehend the scene unraveling in front of her.
“Read the description below the map.”
Dear God, did she actually hear shyness in his voice?
She skimmed through the image again, and there it was, right at the bottom. Elle was so focused on trying to decipher the meaning of the image that she didn’t notice the words below. 
The words which explained everything.
I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY 
THAT MADE ME REALISE
YOU ARE THE SKY
EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST THE WEATHER
Her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears as the meaning dawned upon her. Words were very unnecessary, but now that he summoned the courage to speak, there was still a lot he wanted to put into words. He gently took the frame from her hands and leaned it securely against the wall.
Taking her palms into his, he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles, his lips tracing the shape of these two tiny hands, which held all of him. Everything he had, everything he was and was going to be, he placed in those two fragile palms, with an unspoken hope that they will hold him and catch him if he falls. 
“Look at me.” The words were pulsing with care and affection, even though his voice coloured them in serious and desperate shades.
“One year ago… and a day from today…” He smiled and she felt the warmth spilling inside of her. The power he had over her was beyond the limits of understanding. 
Little did she know that the object of her affection was lost in the same thought.
“I was standing exactly where we stand right now. It was dark and the view wasn’t that spectacular.” He freed one of his hands, but only to make contact with her cheek to caress it slowly. In this moment, he had to touch her any way that he could. With his hands. With his eyes. With his soul.
“But I always found comfort in staring at the sky. When I was at med school, I had countless moments of doubt, I wanted to quit more times than I can count. So I used to go to a secluded place at night and stare at the sky. It made me realise how, in one respect, I am just a grain of sand in the universe and how little my problems are. Funnily enough, this thought actually brought me a sense of comfort. If I am as little as I think I am, then what is the harm in being brave and taking chances? A wise man once said… There are some things that are worth any risk.” 
She giggled through the tears, the sweet sound soothing his shattered nerves.
“I was standing right here and I never felt more miserable in my life. And I couldn’t understand why, for God’s sake. I was thriving at work. I had everything figured out and planned. I was pushing you to be the best you could be and I watched you turn into someone who would one day be far greater than me. But you looked so sad, so… broken. You already know I can’t just gloss over you feeling down. The sadder you were, the more miserable I felt. One evening, I was having a glass of scotch and I remembered some tiny exchange we’ve had earlier in the day, literally a chit chat. No idea what it was about. But I remembered your smile and your laugh. Every tiniest move of your muscles, your eyes, how your hair set around your face. It made me happy. Even if it was just for 5 minutes, knowing that you are happy in that very moment filled my chest with lightness. That’s when I realised I want to be the person who makes you feel this way.”   
She blinked the first time in a while, as if she was afraid to make the tiniest movement, afraid it will all disappear and turn out to be a dream. Giant teardrops rolled down her angelic face, trailing the path of joy.
“Noelle Sky Valentine, I love you. I have loved you for a long time but I was too stubborn to let myself give in. And that, as you already know, will always be one of my biggest regrets.” 
“Ethan, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say.” Her voice was saturated with emotions.
“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.“ 
“I love you too, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are by far the most complicated and stubborn person I have ever met. You are… everything I never knew I looked for in another human being.”
Once he heard her say it back, he couldn't get enough of it and a lifetime didn't feel like enough to tell her he loves her, as many times as he wished to.
“But I do have to mention this, Dr Ramsey… from the first date to a love confession in less than 24 hours? I’m sorry, I think this is moving too fast.”
“I’ll show you too fast…but I’m afraid we need to get inside, I don’t want the whole world and its wife to see how I teach you a thing or two.”
Ethan scooped her in his arms and carried her inside, despite her mock protests. He smiled and corrected himself. 
He wanted for the whole world to see.
Because the whole world was right there. 
In his arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
If you’ve gotten this far, I need you to know you are absolutely amazing 💗
Tag 🏷 list: @jamespotterthefirst @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @mrs-ramsey @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @mercury84choices @lovingramsey @qrkowna @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @lisha1valecha​ @oldminniemcg​ @iemcpbchoices​ @tsrookie​ @fayeswiftie​ @levinsdowneyy​ @brooks-eden​ @poudredevie​ @queencarb​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @lucy-268​ @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend​ @alwaysmychoices-sideblog​ @whippedforethanfreakingramsey​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @the-pale-goddess​ @lem-20​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @liaromancewriter​ @ohchoices​ @archxxronrookie​
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afoolnottoloveu · 4 years ago
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maybe i’m imagining things ♡
Summary: You don’t really feel like you belong at the BAU just yet (WC: 2.1k) {Masterlist <3}
Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral!Reader
TW: smoking, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of alcohol
A/N: i dont smoke so theres highkey gonna b smth wrong with the description,,, but it just felt right okay, also it was a song reference as well >:(( also, this is for lucy’s fic contest! congrats on 3000 sweetheart <3
Song Pairing: Why Am I Like This? - Orla Gartland
--
You could remember the feeling, how it started that night at the bar. Despite the conversations of your new team swirling around you, you felt like a stranger. You didn’t think much of it at first, you just thought you were imagining things. You’ll grow into it, you told yourself. 
After exactly a year at the BAU, you still couldn’t decisively say you were part of the family. As cases came and went, you felt the same. An outsider. A guest living with a family. You couldn’t blame them, really. As you should, right? They weren’t like this with any of the other newbies; it was you who intruded.
The last case felt no different. It was a family annihilator, and all you could think about were the victims. Unbeknownst to the team, except Aaron, you knew almost exactly what the family of the victims were going through. Your feelings were taking a toll on you, and everything from the jet ride to heading back to the office was a complete daze. Your mind was somewhere far off in the distance, only snapped back by the soft touch of JJ placing her hand on your shoulder before you could walk through the glass doors.
“Are you coming tonight?” She asked as if you already knew of what was happening tonight.
“Uh, w-what’s tonight?”
“We’re going to-”
“O’keefe’s!” Penelope squealed, running out of her batcave with the clicks of heels following.
“Oh, um-” you hesitated, but you remembered how badly you wanted to be a part of their family, and a drink didn’t sound too bad at the moment, “yeah! Yeah, I’ll just meet you guys there alright? M’gonna just grab some stuff.”
“We’ll see you down there!” Penelope bubbled, before sweeping everyone else into the elevator. You gave a small smile and wave, catching Spencer’s gaze  just as the doors shut. Maybe you had learned to hide it well after all these years, but for profilers, they really had no idea what was going on inside your head.
You couldn’t help but glance up at Aaron’s office through the glass doors. Everyday you debated if the BAU was really for you, every day for a year, now. Not knowing if this was a mistake or not, you slipped through the bullpen and made a beeline for his office. Relatively quickly, you found the papers you were looking for after a quick search through his cabinets. You didn’t want to have the conversation with Aaron, but he was the only person on this floor with them. You shoved them in your purse, just in case. In case of what? You didn’t know either.
You tried to enjoy yourself, you really did, but your head was just filled to the brim with thoughts you couldn’t bear. The fuzzy, stuffy feeling of the bar would usually help you blend right in, but right now it made you sick. You excused yourself from the table, not like you were part of any of the conversations that were happening anyways, and stepped out.
Through your work blouse and slacks, the October wind nipped at your skin. You opened your purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Your habit started young, smoking being one of the only things that could effectively calm you. Your dad was a smoker, but he really tried his best to stop. He wouldn’t be proud of you for following in his footsteps, but so be it.
Placing the cigarette between your lips and lifting your lighter to the end, you failed to notice someone approaching from behind you.
“6 minutes.” 
Startled, you fumbled and dropped your cigarette from your lips and it hit the concrete, causing you to loudly mutter a curse. You whipped around to cuss out whoever made you drop it, but you’re met with the same eyes you saw before the elevator closed.
“Jesus Christ, Spencer. I just lit that!” His expression doesn’t change, so you rummage through your purse pulling out the box of cigarettes once again. “And I know what that means, 6 minutes off my life for every cigarette I light.” Faced towards the street, you tried to light it, but failed. As the wind kept blowing out the tiny flame, you kept trying. “To be frank, 6 minutes isn’t a whole lot of time in the grand scheme of things. It’s like, one less shower. I could live with that I think.”
Still not hearing a reaction from him, you turn his way, naturally. He seems to be finding your purse very interesting, and for a moment you think, is pretty boy gonna rob me?, but you finally realize he can see the bold print title and FBI logo on the papers that you grabbed sticking out from your purse.
“Why?” is all he asked, his voice dripping in devastation. You look up to meet his eyes and there’s a gloss over them that you know too well. “Why would you wanna transfer? The BAU is-”
“-the crown jewel of the FBI. I’ve heard it.” You take the cigarette out of your mouth to reply. Unable to meet his eyes anymore,  you fixed your eyes on the street once again, but you minded your voice, careful to not let it crack nor reveal too much, “I can’t explain it, Spencer.”
“I think you can, but you don’t want to.” The hurt in his voice was still evident and you had to wonder, why was it there in the first place? He doesn’t really care, his family’s inside the bar.
You brought the joint back to your lips and tried to light it one last time, and you successfully did so, inhaling the smoke and letting it encase your lungs like a blanket. “It’s just-” A long pause lingers in the air before you come to your senses, removing the cigarette from your lips. Blowing out a cloud, the wind carried the gray smoke down the sidewalk, with your eyes trailing. “You know what? No, nevermind. It’s nothing, Spence. I might not even transfer.”
“You wouldn’t grab the papers unless you were seriously considering it, Y/N,” he huffed, intent on finding out the real reason, “Come on, you were gonna have to tell us at some point. Why not start small? Why are you leaving us?” You were getting frustrated from the simple fact that he was right, and suddenly you were very sick of the cigarette you were holding. 
“Fine Spencer, if you wanna know so goddamn bad then I’ll just tell you! I just- the BAU isn’t for me! And it’s not the job, it’s- it’s you! It’s all of you! I can’t be in the same room with all of you for anything other than a debriefing without feeling like I don’t fucking belong! You guys are a family, and I still feel like it’s my day one. If you guys can do this job so well without me, then why shouldn’t- why should I even be here?” You didn’t know when the tear slipped, but they just kept coming, and you were over this cigarette, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it a little too hard.
There was a silence. A cold, heavy silence, filled with nothing more than the gentle breeze, a couple cars passing in the distance and leaves falling. You suppressed your sobs as much as you could and wiped your face repeatedly. 
Oh god, you thought, did I really just say that? Fuck, fuck, shit, why am I like this-
“If I asked you to stay,” His voice was soft- you knew your response wasn’t the one he was expecting. All you could do was glance at him, not knowing where he was going with this. “Would you?”
“What’re you talking about?” The words were a whisper, you wouldn’t be surprised if he thought it was just the wind. You genuinely didn’t understand what he meant, but in your head, you had already answered his question.
“Y/N, I--I just wanna talk, okay? Can you listen? Is that alright?” His voice was comforting, and with the way you were feeling, it was music to your ears. It reminded you of the way he spoke to children, but you were just too damn exhausted to call him out on it; so you nodded, but you kept your eyes on the street in front of you, watching a taxi pass by.
“You know, when I first asked you ‘why?’ a few minutes ago, when I was saying that the BAU was the crown jewel of the FBI? Well, that wasn’t what I was going to say at all. I was gonna say that the BAU is where you belong, Y/N. We don’t only want you to stay, we need you to stay. You were the one who talked down that unsub today. You can defend yourself better than almost any of us. You treat us like family, with the coffee every Wednesday and checking on all of us regularly. We notice these things, Y/N. Do you? Because it’s almost like it’s second nature to you.”
You had to take several deep breaths before you could gather yourself enough to respond; you closed your eyes as you spoke. “Do you know why I so badly want to be so close to all of you? My- my parents were both killed by- by a sociopath. I was 15. I started smoking then. My aunt took me in and I lived with my cousins. They were closer to each other than to me, though. I- I don’t know, I had a family, I guess. I mean, my aunt and her two daughters were my family, but- I don’t know, I’m not making sense.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know that at all, I thought they were your sisters. I get it. Well, I don’t, but I know what you’re trying to say. You didn’t have one as a teenager, but you have one now. Everyone inside of that bar thinks of you as their family. I know you don’t see it, but I can assure you that they do.”
You forgot your eyes were closed. They opened to the touch of Spencer’s hand on your arm, and there he was, standing in front of you. You wanted to cry more, but the sight of Spencer in front of you made you smile and your heart swell. You knew every word that left his mouth was genuine, full of love and understanding. You rushed forward and hugged him, burying your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and cradled your head. It was almost funny, you were sure this was the most you had touched the germaphobe like, ever.
Into his sweater you sniffled and mumbled, “What about you Spencer?”
He pulled away from the hug, both of you still clinging to the other, but enough to have to look in each other’s eyes. He tilted his head as if he were asking what you meant.
“Do you- are we family?”
His only response was an airy chuckle and a swift, soft peck to your forehead. Huh, that’s new. You weren’t saying you didn’t like it though, no, not at all. He pulled you back into the hug and said into your hair “We don’t have to talk about that right now. But honestly? I think of you as something else, Y/N/N.”
And that was okay. The warmth of his breath on your hair and his sweater wrapping you neatly like a gift, it was more than okay.
-
Spencer led you back into the bar after you had fixed your makeup. Luckily, the wind actually helped to dry your tears pretty quickly. The team was gathered around the table, blocking something from your sight. As the two of you approached, you heard Penelope say “Oh, oh oh! They’re here! Y/N’s here!”
The rest of the team turns to you and in front of you, JJ is holding out a red velvet cupcake with a candle in it. “Happy one year!” The team cheered as a chorus. Your eyes widened and your face lit up. Your shock rendered you almost speechless.
“How’d you remember? Oh my gosh, you guys!” you smiled. With everyone egging you on, you blew the candle out, causing an array of cheers and claps.
“Honestly, some of us didn’t. But you know who did remember?” Morgan commented with a wink. You turned to see Spencer scratching his neck, smiling down at you, the look making your heart swell just a lil’ bit more. 
You grabbed his arm and pulled him over with you to the table, the team clearing a spot for the two of you. Conveniently, shots for everyone had already been poured out, readily awaiting your consumption. You grabbed the shot glass and raised it towards the middle of the table.
“To family,” you beamed. Maybe I was just imagining things.
--
Taglist (send an ask to be added): @prettyboy-reid @eusuntgroot @veraiconcos​ (congrats on 3k again!)
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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago
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Murder, He Wrote
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Part 2
Co-Written with @southerngracela​
Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….
Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!
Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader
A/N:  So this is Part 2 to our submission for @jtargaryen18​ ‘s Haunted House 2020  Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.
Series Masterlist. 
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With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity. 
When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.
 "I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded. 
"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest. 
"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second. 
“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips. 
As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?" 
"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing. 
"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.
"You don't know the half of it," he winked.
"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips. 
"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."
"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying. 
"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door. 
The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped. 
"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words. 
He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room. 
In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led. 
**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.
He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.
His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.
Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.
“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.
“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.
Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.
“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.
“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”
“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.
“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.
“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.
“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”
Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”
“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”
“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.
“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.
“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”
“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.
“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”
“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."
Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.
“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”
“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.
 “You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”
Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.
 “Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”
She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”
Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...
He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.
“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.
“How's Richard?”
Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.
“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”
“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”
Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.
“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.
“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”
“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.
“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”
“Good.”  Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.
“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.
“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.
“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”
Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”
And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.
“I see that now.”
“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan. 
"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.
“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.
“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.
“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.
“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”
The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.
***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.
You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.
The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning. 
“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.
“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.
“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.
“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.
“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”
You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.
At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.
“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.
“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.
Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.
“No thank you?”
“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.
His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”
You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.
“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”
It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.
“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”
“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”
“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”
He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”
“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.
“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him. 
You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.
So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.
True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.
“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.
“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”
“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.
You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed
“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”
Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.
“What the fuck?” you stuttered
“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.
“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.
“Answer the question.” He said simply
And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down
“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.
“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.
“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”
“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.
With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space. 
A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.
You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.
“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.
“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.
“Clothes too…”
“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.
You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”
“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”
You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”
“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.
With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.
It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.
“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.
Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.
“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”
You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”
“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.
“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”
At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.
“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.
His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.
“10 minutes” he repeated.
He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.
“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner.  Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.
You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.
 “That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”
You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.
“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.
“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.
You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.
****
Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.
“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”
She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.
Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.
He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.
“Hairbrush?” she asked.
Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.
“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.
“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”
At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.
Such a petulant brat.
“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”
“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.
Oh, Doll, you have no idea…
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.
“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.
“Smart move.” He nodded.
“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.
“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”
At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”
“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.
“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.
“Is that it?”
“For now.” He nodded.
“Do I get to make any rules?”
Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“Can I ask you for things?”
“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”
“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”
“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.
Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.
“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”
She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”
As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She said quickly
“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.
**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.
In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.
“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”
If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.
Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.
“For the boredom.”
You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.
Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.
“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”
He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”
The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.
“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.
“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.
“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”
Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”
“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”
His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”
Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”
“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”
“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine
“I met my mother.”
“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”
“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.
“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.
“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”
“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”
Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”
“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”
“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”
“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.
“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.
Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”
At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."
“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.
“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”
There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.
Shit.
In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”
“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.
“Fuck you.” You spat back.
“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.
His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.
Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly. 
One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.
“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”
You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.
“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”
He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.
“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.
“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”
“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.
"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”
He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.
"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.
“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.
Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.
“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”
At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.
“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”
And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.
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