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mintugiyuu · 3 years

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> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

#🎣.requests #sfw #one shot #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny reader insert #demon slayer reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba reader insert #kny one shot #demon slayer one shot #kimetsu no yaiba one shot #rengoku kyojurou #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojurou x reader

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Murder, He Wrote

Part 3 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving, but when you’re being held hostage by Hugh Ransom Drysdale there’s really not a lot to be thankful for, is there?

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 2

You could feel the chill of the outside seeping into your space, your bones, through the vented window following your shower. The way it crept in made you realize just how far along through fall you were, maybe it was even approaching the onset of the holiday weather. Either way, a storm seemed to be outside. At least it felt like it. Once dried, you found yourself wrapping up tighter in the thick cardigan you’d chosen before you dried your hair, and allowed yourself a quick squirt of perfume before settled into the reading chair in the corner of your room, your journal on your lap.

The little, leather bound book had been in your handbag which had been given back to you earlier that morning as the latest reward for behaving and as you ran your hand over the deep brown cover, you couldn’t help the air of excitement you felt at having been given your treasured little note book, despite the dreary sky you could see from the porthole above your chair.

It had actually surprised you that Drysdale had kept it and not disposed of it the same way he had your phone and your car. But for whatever reason, he’d held onto it, and for that you were grateful. Grateful that you had something of your own from before this imprisonment to anchor too. You’d expected him to want some kind of favour in return but he hadn’t demanded any sort of sexual gratification, simply informed you he would be out most of the morning and would be back mid to late afternoon. As soon as he had gone you had eagerly tipped the contents of your bag onto the bed, almost crying at the sight of your half empty bottle of Coco-Mademoiselle, the Mac Lip-gloss, NYX Eyebrow pencil, Mont Blanc fountain pen, a full tube of mints and your treasured journal. With teary eyes you’d put everything away in its new place, apart from the book and pen before padding into the bathroom for a shower, deliberately sorting yourself out for the day. All you could think of was taking the time so you could savour the moment when you could hopefully make some sense of the jumble in your head by spilling it onto a page.

You opened the cover and flicked to your last entry, the morning of Halloween. A rambling rant about Mick-The-Prick filled the page and you paused, tears in your eyes, as you’d give anything to be stood in his office thinking about ingenious ways to kill him and get away with it. Ironic, really considering that was exactly what your captor had done; committed murder and gotten away with it.

You went to jot the date down in the corner of the page and realised that actually, you didn’t have a clue what it was. Down here, night bled into day, day bled into night…and soon it all bled into weeks. However, given the fact your cycle had been and gone a week ago you figured that it was maybe four weeks since Halloween. Of course, you could ask Hugh, but the less you had to ask him the better as far as you were concerned. You hate the fact that he had this hold on you, that you had to ask for and ‘earn’ things by being ‘good’. And whilst it made you sick to your stomach, you’d fast learnt it was easier to comply than rebel. The night he had left you tangled in your sweater had hurt. It had taken you a good twenty minutes to muster the strength to work your way out and drag yourself into a bath, your body shaking with the trauma, sobs wracking your frame. Your body ached for days, your mind in a post-traumatic cloud of despair. And whilst it hadn’t broken you per-say, it had certainly made you realise exactly what the bastard was capable of, and you had no intention of finding out just how much further he was willing to go.

So, in summary, it had taken Ransom Drysdale two days to break you into compliance.

You’d become passive, so to speak. You gave into his whims, let him use you as he saw fit, did as he told… for the most part anyway. There had been a few other incidents post the sweater one where you’d forgotten yourself and protested, fought a little and he’d gone hard on you, but nothing like that second night. Your passive behaviour was mistaken by him for compliance, and as such you had earned a number of rewards. The bistro table where you took your meals, a book or two which just so happened to be by his grandfather, a gesture you weren't sure was him purging or pressing an agenda onto you. And more recently and most preciously, your bag. But, the strange thing was, that whilst he wanted you to give into him physically, he seemed to enjoy the fact that you were in no way, shape or form compliant to him in others. You openly sassed him, bit back, called him out and he actively encouraged it. He’d started spending a little more time with you in the mornings and afternoons, not just visiting you to toy with you or fuck, but to engage in these little tete-a-tete’s, and the sickest, most perverted thing about it was that you were almost glad. The loneliness was crippling, and you craved company. Even if it was his.

All things considered, you’d rather ask him for as little as possible so instead, you flicked to the front of the book and crossed off the days on the small calendar inside the cover. Deciding that the date it led you to was as accurate as it was going to get, you turned back, jotted it down in the top right of your page and stared at the blank lines, looking to sort your thoughts for your next entry.

The saying used to go, what's in a name, however as I sit here thinking back on the last few weeks I wonder now what's in a day. My days consist of imprisonment. Held by a captor I have met once before. He's smart, almost too smart. Displaying forms of abuse and aggressive behaviors any FBI analyst would love to dive deep into. But that's not my job, no, my job is to please and satisfy him. Answer to his whims of gratification at any call of the day. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. But if I behave, he lets few things get by. I miss home, my bed, my life. I miss Mick, which is saying a lot all things considered. I don't know still what he wants from me, other than the obvious sexual gratification with little to no room for anything else. I'm a toy, a means to an itch. I don't know how long exactly I've been here, I can only guess it's been about a month. Nor do I know how long I'll have to stay. The answers are blurred like my vision, marred by tears and the low light inside. I haven't seen outside since the day he took me. I haven't been anywhere outside this room. I can see from the small porthole window above this stupidly soft leather chair the season has changed. It feels like deep fall, and as a storm comes outside, what little sky I see is bleak and dark, clouds covering the bluest of skies, angry and ready to open up, raining down water to wash away the sins of the day. I wish I could do the same.

Before you realized, time had obviously passed, for the sound of the door bolts unlocking had you guessing it was late afternoon or early evening. A glance up at the porthole behind you confirmed as much. The sky was dark and rain had been beating on the window for a little while.

In came Drysdale, hair a bit wet, a strand slightly out of place, wool pants and maroon sweater. He carried a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He looked irked, like he'd wasted time on something, a look you were now able to decipher after weeks of seeing it.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said, setting the plate down on the bistro table with its two accompanying chairs, waiting for you to join him.

Instead of biting back, you simply whispered, "it’s Thanksgiving?" You checked the inside cover of your journal and see the date again. You were a day off and it now dawned on you. It was the fourth Thursday of the month and indeed, Thanksgiving. You glanced back up at Ransom and a deep sadness washed over you. Closing your journal and setting it on the table by your chair, you stood, moving towards him and the plate of food. You took a seat and looked down at the plate, full of the holiday dish basics; turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, diced not candied yams and roasted green beans. It was gourmet and nothing near what he'd been serving you or managing to try. "Thank you," you said softly, rolling your fork through the potatoes. You take a bite but it's about as bland and tasteless as your despair.

"I brought it back from the country club, I met my father there," he looked under your gaze again, as if willing your eyes to his. "Do you not like it?"

Finally, your gaze met those cold cerulean orbs, setting your fork down and you took a drink of water, "No, it's fine." Then you picked up your fork again and took another bite, this time of the turkey and gravy. You didn't have it in you for an argument or it's physical ramifications.

"Are you not hungry?" Ransom pressed.

"I guess not as much as I thought," you repled further poking at your food, your voice cracking a little as you try to keep your composure. The sting of the holiday has you broken, far more than you'd expected. Normally, today you'd be helping your mother in the kitchen, settling the final touches on the side dishes and listening to your father tell your uncle about some a-typical dad joke he'd heard. Your sister would be giddy over the wine while her boyfriend of the month received death glares from said uncle and your father.

Ransom outwardly sighed and you wait for what you were trying to avoid. "Are you alright?"

The question threw you off guard completely and you struggled to hide the shock from your expression. He never cared about your feelings before. Maybe he thought you were coming down with something. You braced yourself to answer honestly. There was no point in lying, he'd see through it.

"I'm fine, I'm not sick if that's what you're thinking," you answered, a deep restraint on your tone to keep yourself in check. "I hadn't realized what day it was. I didn't know it was Thanksgiving." You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked hard. "My mom, my sister and I, we used to all help make dinner as a family. My dad and uncle would talk a bunch of shit around the fireplace while shooting death glares at my sister's flavor of the month."

He looked at you like he was confused. You scoff, "Of course you wouldn't understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He squint his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. His body language completely changed as he leaned forward on his forearms, popping one shoulder up higher than the other.

"Nothing," you backed down immediately.

"Tell me," he pressed.

God, he was relentless. You pushed your plate forward and leaned on your own elbows. You looked at him with a raised brow, "am I going to be in trouble if you don't like what I have to say?"

"Depends," he popped a shoulder smugly.

You matched his expression and his demeanour falters just a fraction. You saw it, but you didn't hold back. "Then I'd rather keep it to myself. That's what you want isnt it? Me to comply, be obedient? Frankly, I'm not in the mood."

He failed to hide his smirk and you noticed that too, "Sweetheart." It wasn't laced with teasing, rather his pet name for you on his tongue held a cautious venom.

"You hate your family. You know nothing about love and what it takes to give love. Hell, I don't doubt that for a minute you've ever felt loved. It's all an act. Self-preservation even. I don't know you or your family outside of the hours of research I did and the mere forty five minutes I listened to you drone on about your 'predicament'. But, the cold hearted truth of it is, you don't know how to love." You watched him run his tongue along his teeth as he continued to glare at you, but you weren't finished. "And that's what family is, it's what they do. They love, they are the embodiment of love at its deepest root. Maybe, just maybe somewhere along your life, your parents loved you, but judging by the Thrombey-Drysdale standards, none of you know what love is outside your selfish tithings and flashy cars. It got lost along the way, more than likely long before you ever were born."

"Wow," he raised his brows and clicked his tongue against his teeth, "That's good, that's really good."

You're fear receptors suddenly spiked as recognizable flash of anger in his eyes flashed through his irises. But there was something else there that you couldn't put your finger on it. Your breathing quickly up-ticked as you felt your palms begin to sweat.

He inhaled a deep, almost centering breath, "that perfume in your bag, I like it."

As if he'd grown a second head, you blinked hard refocusing on him. Had you heard him right? You'd just broken a rule, laid out an unspeakable truth for him and now in a blink he's, God forbid, complimenting your scent? Who the fuck was this guy? Was he on meds? Because he should be or he should at least probably share. It might make life here more bearable. "What?"

"The perfume from your bag, you're wearing it. It smells good," he lamented.

Alright, now the 'of sound mind' argument might be worth something because he sure as shit wasn't now. You swallowed and picked up your fork, taking a bite of the cold food just to buy yourself some time as you tried to process the scene before you. You had no remark to make. Confusing jumbled any thought of a coherent word you could utter.

"Maybe if I'm out, I can pick you up a new bottle. I noticed you were near empty," Ransom offered.

This was starting to make your stomach turn. If he'd gone through your bag, because why wouldn't he at this point, smelled your perfume, had he read your journal? You made a mental note to go back through and see if there was anything he'd read that he had used against you thus far or could use to corner you in the future. You looked around the room, waiting to see if you were being Punk'd. Just who the fuck is this guy? Without your expression giving too much of your confusion away, you nod at him in reply. "Thank you, I'd like that."

"Hmph," he paused, a dramatic effect he seemed to know that your heart rate up in anxiety. "Well, then why are you looking at me like I have two heads, Y/N?"

Tread lightly, you thought to yourself. He didn't call you by your first name often, in fact, the last time he had, you were very much smarting back and it resulted in a forceful situation that left you raw and sore for a few days. It was always 'Sweetheart'.

He baited you, you knew it, but you couldn't back out now. So you sighed, "I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but, I don't even know who you are right now. Do you? One minute you're giving me food and being gentle, the next you're allowing my opinion, and now you're ready to flip this table. That's as close as two heads as it gets."

"Careful, Sweetheart," he now glared at you. There it was, you were in for it. The approach of choice, you weren't sure of, but he was done. You'd learned the different tones in his voice by now, the cues he gave. You were definitely in trouble. You dropped your eyes to your plate. The food stone cold and no longer even appealing in its slightest measure, a wave of nausea washing over you. You further pushed your plate away, "I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

His broad frame rose from the chair, "you weren't to begin with," his left hand reaching for the plate and holds it in his hand, "Third drawer down in the armoire. Pick something, I'll be back."

You watched him leave, the familiar click of the door shutting and snap of the lock sounded around the small apartment and you exhaled loudly, your head dropping into your hands. This wasn’t the first time he’d requested that you ‘dress for the occasion’ so to speak. With a deep breath you stood up and crossed the room, opening the drawer of requirements, seeking out a negligee for him to no doubt remove. Your fingers roamed over the fabrics and selection. La Perla, Agent Provocateur, Carine Gilson, Coco de Mer and Fleur of England were just a handful of the expensive, high-end brands that filled the space. Your fingers smoothed over a black macrame and tule underwired long line bra and the matching thong that was folded neatly under it. Plucking it from the drawer, you headed for the bathroom. You slipped out of your casual tee, duster cardigan and leggings, the bra and panties you'd had on. You sighed as you took a good look at yourself in your naked form.

While you hadn't lost a ton of weight over the last month, you could tell you'd grown thinner. You weren't gaunt but your lack of a daily Dunkin' Donuts macchiato had seemed to thin you out. Your captor made sure you were fed, but you didn't always eat. The plump of your cheeks had receded and your little pooch brought on by happy carbs was sucked into your frame. There were a few bruises still seen, near green, an indication of their final healing stage. The pock mark from a hickey he'd given you still a bit scaby as he'd broken the skin just barely. This was your life now and it made what few bites of Thanksgiving dinner in your stomach nearly lurch forward back up your throat.

You swallowed it down, pulling the long line bra straps up your arms and clasping it behind your back. Your legs slipped into the thong panties and you pulled the material up your freshly smooth legs. Your shaky fingers plucked at the hair tie that fastened the end of your brain closed, nails raking through your hair to loosen your tendrils. He always wanted your hair loose. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you were ready.

***** Ransom tossed the un-eaten food into the garbage and dumped the plate into the sink to be dealt with later. Turning so that his lower back was leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter he ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw, his mind ticking over the events of the day so far. A pain-in-the-ass Thanksgiving meal with his father had been made bearable by the fact he knew he was coming back to her, and because he hadn’t wanted to be a complete monster he’d made the effort of bringing her a nice dinner back too. But she’d hardly touched any of it.

And what disturbed him most about it, was the fact that instead of wanting to punish her for being an ungrateful bitch, he instead felt a deep rooted sense of concern. She’d lost weight, her face was pale, her hip bones more pronounced, and frankly the last thing he wanted was her passing out on him. Whilst he wanted her compliant, necrophilia really wasn’t his bag.

He had thought by giving her back the bag she’d had on her the night he took her he might have seen a lift in her spirits so to speak, a little gratitude, but instead she’d been meek and reserved until he’d coaxed that familiar sass out of her. And even then she’d been reticent.

It should have pleased him that she was learning her place and becoming more subservient. But if he was being honest with himself, he almost missed her fighting and arguing back. It had been exciting in a way, and he had thought it would have taken longer than it had to break her so to speak. Maybe he had overestimated exactly what a fighter she was, maybe she wasn’t the right muse for his writing after all. Because, let’s face it, writing a tale about a woman who was captured and broken into submission within two days, merely becoming a puppet for her captor’s whims was hardly going to win him any accolades was it? He needed more, needed something that he could spin a good story from. He knew now that when he went back down to her he had to try a different tact so to speak, he needed to coax her mind into reacting not merely her body.

Because if he couldn’t do that, there was no point in keeping her.

He allowed her half an hour or so before he headed back down the stairs and found her sat on the bed, dressed in one of the sets he’d purchased, her hair loose round her face and shoulders the way he liked. She jumped to her feet and he had to actively supress the groan that was rolling in his throat as his eyes scanned her up and down, and he didn’t miss the slight bruises that dotted her skin in various places where he’d marked her as his own. She’d long since stopped trying to cover herself up. Instead she stood stock still, her eyes focussed on the floor.

With long strides he walked into the room and stopped in front of her, tipping her chin up with his finger so she was looking at him, her eyes wide with trepidation and he gave a smirk as he reached up, brushing her hair off the side of her face and neck, dropping his head as he did so.

“You smell so good, Sweetheart.” He inhaled against her pulse point, lips pressing into her there. He felt the gasp of her breath, the way her skin pricked with chill bumps. He smirked to himself, he’s found her spot. And he filed that away, committing it to memory.

“I like this…” he practically purred as he toyed with the straps to the bra, a long, thick middle finger outlining the strap against her skin, lips following pursuit.

“You should, you chose it.”

He chuckled, ignoring the snark behind her words. “Like I chose you, huh?”

Like I chose you.

His words echoed around your head, reminding you exactly why you were in this fucking situation. Because he had decided you would be. He wanted you, and just like with everything else in his life that Hugh Ransom Drysdale wanted, he simply took. But what worried you the most about all this was whether or not you would be discarded the same way he no doubt discarded the other possessions he lost interest in.

You took a deep, steadying breath as his hands moved from the straps of your bra, long fingers moving to caress the back of your neck, but there was no grabbing, no force. He was being positively gentle.

And it scared the crap out of you.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked, his breath hot and wet in your ear as you trembled under the further graze of his fingers against the macramé of your set.

“You know I am," you swallowed nervously. You weren't new to this, this wasn't your first time, but the way he was being soft, a stark character change to his a-typical stance with you was what had you crawling in fear in the inside. Was it a game? Was it some sort of ploy? Was this his idea of foreplay now before he turned it up and went hard enough to bruise but not hard enough to make you cry?

A flat palm ran down your abdomen, already taught in fear. But not before a thumb grazed along the underside of your breast. Agonizingly slow, his hand, still splayed over you, dips into your matching macrame panties, dipping into your wet folds, thumb lightly pressing against your clit.

“You’re so wet, considering you’re scared.”

You didn't answer, just swallowed hard, the lump stuck in your throat as it fought against a little whimper.

His mouth once more latched onto your neck, the kisses gentle as opposed to the bruising ones you had become accustomed to. The fingers in your folds matched his slow nature, teasing you in such a way that when you closed your eyes and focussed your mind elsewhere, you could almost believe you were somewhere with a man you’d given permission to touch you in such away. But when his lips moved to your jawline and you took a deep breath, the heady scent of his cologne hit your senses and your eyes flew open as you were reminded just whose lips and hands were violating you in such away.

You swallowed as Ransom pulled away, his hand gently grasping your chin once more as he issued a simple instruction.

“Strip for me, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile that had once more risen up your throat as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs bent, hands resting on his knees as he watched you the way a lion watched its prey. You undid the clasp on your bra, your eyes remaining locked on his as you slid the straps down your shoulders and dropped the garment to the floor. Your captor took a deep breath, his eyes flicking down your body as you moved to shed the bottom half, wondering what on earth had been the point of wearing it in the first place. But even as you asked yourself that, you already knew the answer. It was a bout power, another way for him to remind you just who you belonged to now. How he could strip you bare in more way than one without even lifting a finger.

But lift a finger he did, curling it in mid-air as he beckoned you towards him. You took careful steps over the floor until you were stood in between his legs. His large hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs, before he pulled you towards him, his nose brushing the skin of your abdomen as he took a deep breath, fingers curling round your thighs.

And then, in a flash he stood, taking you with him, and before you could so much as utter a squeak or noise of surprise he had you naked, laying across the bed, the sheets cold against your skin, a contrast to the heat emanating from the body against yours. The look in his lust blown eyes was overwhelming. You didn't know what you were in for but as his body, still clothed in the frayed maroon sweater and wool slacks sunk into the mattress between your legs, you felt a chill course through your veins, your skin, again, pricking in bumps all over. His hands, with their thick fingers, trailed long lines up and down your thighs, Ransom's full lips kissing at your sensitive inner skin, a nip or two here and there as he went from your knee, upward.

He could smell your arousal, see it glistening as it dripped from your core. "Someone's ready," he quipped. He watched you swallow hard, a literal lump in your throat bobbing the skin. Your eyes never left him. "No cumming until I tell you. Do you understand?" When you didn't answer immediately, he swiped his tongue over your wet lips, tasting the honey your body gave him, your back arching away from sheets. "Do you understand?"

And there it was, your punishment finally arriving from your little moment before over dinner. As you still had your wits about you, you uttered a single word response, in the hope that the more submissive you were, the more accepting you were of your chastisement, the less hard on you he was going to be.

"Yes."

His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, the lavish holiday meal he'd partaken in not filling enough. His thumb pressed against your engorged nub, causing you to writhe but a firm arm over your abdomen kept you in place. The same thick fingers that traced lines up your thighs, two were now buried deep inside you, his tongue working away any juices that seeped out. As he gave you a third, stretching you more, you felt your walls start to tighten, that burning coil in your belly flare and your hands gripped the sheets tighter.

Ransom could clearly feel you flutter against his fingers as he stopped his assault and looked up at you.

"What did I say?"

Your chest heaved, your stomach taught and you fought to obey. When you managed to calm yourself, he began again, almost from square one, slowly, tantalizingly slow.

The action was torture and you were desperately willing yourself to remain grounded as again your body fought to ride over the edge building inside you. When his mouth was over you completely, tongue deep, thumb pressing again into your clit, you felt the urge to cum. But he pulled away, slowly, his thumb stopping the pressure, his tongue slowly dragging out of you.

"I said no. This is your punishment for your smart mouth over dinner."

"Please, I need to, I'll... I'll make it worth your while, please just let me." Your voice sounded alien as you spoke, the words leaving your mouth in the desperate hope he’d take pity on you but to no avail. Your attempts at bartering served only to frustrate him, anger him even and he Ransom backed away, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed before stripping out of his sweater and undershirt, the undeniable outline of his hard cock along his thigh strained against his wool slacks.

Harsh in his grip, he repositioned himself between your legs, your thighs across his shoulders, ass dangling above the floor as a heavy arm kept you still. His flat tongue, hot and full of your sex was eating away at you while his final throws of resolve ate away at him.

“I’m done playing fucking games.” he growled against your aching cunt “I should have gagged you, stuffed my cock deep into the back of your throat, something, anything to shut you up.”

You barely had time to register his words before once more you were flat out against the mattress, trying to regain your breath and calm yourself down when he backed away, tore open his flies and smirked down at you.

"Oh no, Sweetheart, we're not done yet." He kneeled beside you, his chest heaving, hair completely out of place, anger and wait, was that pain, flickering in his eyes as he stuffed you with a hard thrust of his length. "Now you’re gonna cum on this dick."

He thrusted hard and within a few slams of his hips against yours, he allowed you the release you were begging for, "that's right, Princess, cum on my cock."

You wept at the feeling finally freeing you, cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as you squeezed around him. Your chest heaving against his, skin to skin. The fabric of his wool pants hot and itchy against your inner thighs. He was still thrusting but now it had slowed to a roll, slow and calculated. Your muddled mind was buzzing and rapidly trying to sort out if he'd cum inside you or if he wasn't finished. His features were softer, but still filled with purpose and his lips latched onto a naked breast causing your body to react, tingles and flames licking at your core again. His eyes looked up at yours as he caged you in, still buried deep inside you, hips rolling.

"I said we weren't done," he rasped. His thrusts and rolls, the two very different tactics mixing now, made the swell of his cock inside you abhorrently pleasurable. Try as you might, it was impossible to feel otherwise.

And Ransom was finding it equally as hard to hold on. His weight was evenly distributed over her, his cock swelling inside her heat. It took all he had not to blow his load the first time he made her cum, hearing the sinful sounds of her orgasm that felt like a volcanic eruption around his hard shaft. But now he could feel her again, tiny little pulses around his already overtly sensitive dick. He was sure his precum was leaking out, wanting to paint the way for the rest of him to follow. He rolled and thrust as his lips nipped at her neck. She moaned loudly, her body exuding lust. He could feel her shake beneath him and to his delight and surprise her eyes were no longer screwed shut and turned away. Instead they were locked on his. The moment those deep hued orbs met his, he felt a hitch in his breath and tightness in his chest that travelled through his belly and into his cock, causing the thick member to throb inside her. Tiny, soft hands gripped at his biceps, her touch a fiery scald against his skin, almost as if it were frost bite. Her touch equally shocking as her stare and he gave a roll of his hips to hide what he felt. A deep, satiated roll of his hips that sent her over the edge.

"Hugh!" She came around him, harder than her first, crying out his given name. It snapped him from his moment of revelation, driving him insanely frustrated at the word leaving her lips. He slammed into her as she rode out her orgasm, chasing his own.

You felt the dismissal of his body as he violently pulled free from your walls, spewing his hot seed over your abdomen, drops claiming your tits too. He nearly collapsed, his dick in hand, the other holding himself up against the mattress between your legs.

He left you there, dirty, degraded and shut the door with a barked instruction for you to clean yourself up. You no longer cried in front of him, either before, during or after. There was no point. He didn’t care about how you felt, but the thing he DID seem to care about was the fact that you still refused to call him Ransom.

It was the one thing you held on to, the only thing that gave you an inch of control in this entire fucked up situation. You hadn’t missed the look on his face when you’d cried out 'Hugh' in the throes of your last orgasm. Before that moment there had been a softness in his eyes, one that had unnerved you no end, along with something that had looked suspiciously like hope. But when his given name had tumbled involuntarily from your mouth and not the one he preferred that softness had turned to contempt and you didn't miss the undercurrent of disappointment either.

And seeing that, knowing that it pissed him off and dare you say it, upset him so much was your single, albeit feeble, act of rebellion that served as a desperate boost to your ever waning inner strength. *****

Ransom laid in his large, plush bed, hands behind his head as the silk sheets pooled at his waist as morning was in full swing outside. His thoughts strayed to his girl in the basement and he took a deep breath, shifting slightly as he remembered the way her fingers had felt as they’d curled around his biceps, her touch firey but cold. That had been the first time she’d touched him when she wasn’t trying to push him away, it had been involuntary, he knew that, a reaction to the way she’d been feeling, the way he had made her feel.

A twitch resounded deep in his belly....the way he made her feel.

He realised now that he’d been going about this the entirely wrong way. The force had been necessary to make her comply at first, but last night she hadn’t just complied she’d participated, just what he had wanted all along. And all after he’d shown her a little leeway, brought her dinner, entertained her talk. He understood now that he needed to play a different card from his hand. She responded better to conversation, talking. Ransom hated fucking talking, he was more cerebral, calculating. Conversation means connecting, and connecting was something he wasn’t particularly interested in normally. He needed to lead, to be in charge, but it was clearly what she knew and thrived on, so he had to swallow his apprehension down to play the long game, to get what he wanted.

Now he understood that, it was going to be so fucking easy. All he had to do was to seemingly show her compassion, a little give so he could take so to speak. He rolled his head, cracking his neck as he remembered what she said about cooking with her mom so he decided that after her stellar performance last night, today she’d earned a bigger reward than a book or some journal. He was going to show her what she could have if she just gave in and admitted what he knew she truly wanted. A large house, a garden, a pool, a hot tub, silk sheets, a large bed, and a man to fuck her every way to heaven and back. He could give her everything that any woman could possibly desire, and then some.

With a twitch of a smirk across his lips, Ransom pulled his naked frame out of bed and slipped into joggers, a soft waffle knit thermal long sleeve pulled over his tousled hair. He felt like company for breakfast and he knew exactly to invite up.

His bare feet padded with purpose over the plush carpet of his room, down the stairs and onto the first floor, over the hard wood and marble tile of the halls and entry, down the plush carpeted spiral staircase down to the basement.

He reached the door and gently turned the locks, quietly pushing the door open as he turned the knob. It opened quietly and his eyes fell upon the empty bed. He frowned slightly, wondering where she was. Then his eyes found her, sitting curled up with her eyes cast upward, that little tease of a porthole window in her focus. She'd turned her chair around so she could see it more clearly, the throw blanket he'd tossed at her the week before was wrapped around her body. He didn't know the time, but it wasn't early nor was it afternoon. Not that it mattered, neither had anywhere else to be.

"Good morning," he said lowly. He watched as her eyes slowly moved away from the only bit of outside world she'd seen for weeks now.

"Morning," she replied quietly, her eyes locking onto his. "I err, I was just..." she trailed off. "Actually, I don't know what I was doing to be honest."

He stalked up to the chair, kneeling in front her. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her cheek bone. "You were such a good girl last night. Took me so well, teased me with that little number you had on. I've thought about you all morning."

Ransom watched her throat bob as she swallowed before licking her lips and biting the inside corner of her lip. Such an innocent gesture that had him half hard straight away.

"I want to give you something. But you have to be good, or it goes away," he started. "Can you be good, Sweetheart?"

She nodded, slightly. "Okay," he smirked. "Now, fix the chair and come up to make us breakfast."

Ransom stood back, allowing you some space to accommodate his request. You slipped the throw blanket from your shoulders and left it in the chair as you rearranged the piece back to its normal state. You met him at the doorway. You didn't miss the way his eyes moved over you, the way they lit up in a way at as he looked at the silken material covering your body. The dark teal silk and lace cami set was just one of a handful of options he'd provided for you. All the same, different colors, all in your size.

You hesitated for a second, not sure if this was another one of his little games but he simply met your eyes with his own and nodded up the stairs. With tentative, shaky steps you climbed them, sensing him close behind you as for the first time in weeks you left your prison. You felt anxious, highly on edge and nervous. What was awaiting you? There was the sickening feeling in your stomach of excitement too, you hadn’t seen the outside since Halloween. You paused at the top of the stairs in the hall. The kitchen was directly across from you, the entry to your right. The door to the basement clicked shut and you felt Ransom’s firm chest behind your back as his form invaded your space. He dragged a finger down your arm causing the strap of your top to fall away, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Straight ahead, Sweetheart."

“Okay,” you whispered before you slowly made your way through to the large, airy kitchen. You stood looking around, taking in the fancy appliances before you turned back to Ransom. "Did you have something in mind?”

"Well..." Ransom leaned in the doorway, watching you as you stood in the middle of the tiled floor "Yesterday wasn't the first time you said you enjoyed to cook so I thought you might like to." His eyes flicked once more down your frame and back up again before he nodded his head towards the rear of the room. “Anything you need is in the pantry and fridge.”

“And I can make anything I want?” You blinked, not quite able to believe what he was allowing you to do. It was fucked up that you were even considering this as a reward but, you’d take it. Boy would you take it, anything to grasp some sense of normality in this day-by-day hell you were living.

“Sure.” Ransom popped a shoulder again and you took a deep breath before you turned and headed to the sink to wash your hands before sorting out your menu and you froze. The outside landscape had stopped you cold. From what you could see of the back garden the property was secluded, not over looked. A lawn extended a fair distance back from the rear of the house, a neat decking area stood to the right which sported a hot tub and a little further down there looked to be a pool of some kind which was covered over for the season. Trees hung over the bottom of the garden lining the high wooden fence, what few leaves they still sported were shades of crimson, gold and brown and the river traced it’s banks as it curved around the side and back of the house, the sun shining off the surface, giving it the impression it was made of sapphires. It was breathtakingly beautiful and you felt your heart shatter, your eyes well and you couldn't help but hold back the urge to weep as your chest contracted painfully. You were so close to the outside, separated only by a pane of glass, yet it had never felt further away.

His voice broke you from your despair and you swallowed back the sob that choked your throat as you flicked your attention to the left, Ransom's reflection drawing closer towards you as he crossed the terracotta tiled floor.

"Everything alright?"

You cleared your throat and gave a quick shake of your head, "Fine."

Again you felt him in your space. His presence consuming. “You sure?”

Sure? No you weren’t sure. Because none of this was fine, in fact it was as far from fine as it could possibly get. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to spin round and hammer your fists into any part of his body you could hit but you knew that it wouldn't get you anywhere, bar back in the basement likely shackled naked to the bed so you instead turned slowly to find yourself caged in by his broad frame so close to yours. You cast your eyes downward, uncomfortable at his searching stare, "Yeah, I’m sure.”

Your tongue flicked nervously over your lips as you continued to avoid his gaze before you cleared your throat “How do you like your eggs? Or would you prefer an omelette? Pancakes even?" The urge to move away from him pulled you away from your idea of a menu. Brunch basics were flooding your brain and you rattled off a few nervously. He may have said you could make whatever you wanted, but right now, you had no clue. Seeing a different space, the outside world and breathing new air had rattled you.

“You choose.” Ransom spoke softly, his hand reaching up to brush your hair off your face before he tipped your chin up so your eyes met his. He looked at you, and you swallowed as for the first time there was something unreadable on his face. His eyes were looking at you in a way they’d never looked at you before, with a softness you’d never have anticipated he could possess.

"Waffles." You suddenly blurted out, desperate to escape his gaze "I err, do you have a waffle iron?”

“No.” He deadpanned.

"Oh," you swallowed "Erm, then in that case French toast...maybe? Is that ok?"

“Sounds delicious.” He said, his hand dropping from your face, “Sure it’ll taste almost as good as you.”

“Great. How about with fresh Chantilly cream and berries if you have them?” You asked, completely ignoring his blatant back handed compliment and you started familiarizing yourself with the space as you glanced around.

“Like I said, whatever you want, Sweetheart.” He shrugged, and with that he stepped back to allow you to move away.

Ransom watched her move around the luxurious kitchen, looking through the pantry and cabinet near the stove taking out cinnamon and vanilla, plucking items like bread, butter, eggs, berries and cream from the fridge. Searching drawers for utensils and measuring cups and spoons. Finding a pan and bowl from a bottom cabinet. Measuring sugar from the glass jar on the counter. He hoped the ingredients were still fresh, he wasn't exactly sure how long they'd been stored. She moved like she belonged there, he thought to himself. So sexy looking in her nightwear, bare feet on the tile, her ass and breasts moving underneath the silk as she stretched and worked.

"Coffee?" He offered, as he moved from one side to the other. He made sure his exquisite espresso machine was ready as it sat in all its glory on its own portion of the counter like a batista station inside Starbucks.

He didn't miss the way she watched him move around her, preparing the coffee and grabbing the orange juice from the fridge. He reached over her shoulder, his body brushing against hers as he opened the cupboard where he kept the glasses and mugs. He peered down at her, giving a twitch to the corner of his mouth. A smirk indeed. He noted the way her eyes followed him as he poured the juice, like he was going to poison her or something.

"It's just juice, Sweetheart," he said nonchalantly and put the juice back in the fridge. He set the breakfast table for them and took a seat in his place, a now hot cup of coffee in his hand, hers sitting on the counter next to her.

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought the plates to the table, sitting down timidly in the seat to his right as he gestured to it, stopping her dead as she was about to make her way around to the opposite side.

It was quiet, the only sounds heard for a while were the click and scrape of forks and knives cutting away at the plates of food. Ransom wouldn't admit it out loud, but this was the best French toast he'd ever had in his life. Something about it, the way it was not soggy, but perfectly moist, the edges just crispy. The way the cream made for no syrup and the sweet berries added the final element. He watched her pick at the food for a moment or two as he glanced over at her and saw a small bit of Chantilly in the corner of her mouth.

A long arm reached across the table and automatically she flinched a little, as if she was going to pull away but one firm stare stopped her in her tracks. His thick thumb padded away the white, sweet cream and he brought the same thumb to his lips, sucking the cream away. He lifted his brows in a teasing manner and twitched up his lips, "Delicious. Like I said, almost as good as you, Sweetheart."

"Thanks, I think," she paused.

"Trust me, I know."

The comment seemingly threw her off her meal and it didn't get past Ransom. She had started picking at it, moving it around the plate like she had done with her dinner the night before. He, on the other hand, was near finished.

"Are you still not hungry?" He inquired.

She shook her head, "I just made my portion too big. I overestimated my appetite, I guess."

"Huh," he placated her reply. He knew she was lying but he let it slide, realizing that seeing a new space, the window to the outside was overwhelming. So, he thought he'd sweeten the deal. "I thought maybe you'd like to see the house," he offered, watching as her big eyes locked onto his and she took a deep breath.

"That sounds nice, thank you."

"Good, after breakfast then." He nodded affirmingly, as if it were drying ink in his mind. He picked up his coffee and finished it off, his plate already clear.

She stood from the table, collecting his plate with her own and headed for the sink. He turned in his chair, stalking her, watching her every move. The way she pitched over the sink, bending her frame over the dishwasher to load it as she cleaned up the kitchen.

With each bend and snap of her hips, he felt his mouth water more. Her little silk cami riding up as she moved, her breasts falling in and out of a fuller view. When she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, he was on her. He moved behind her, his hands grabbed her hips as she spun around completely startled giving a gasp and a quick yelp.

"Easy, Sweetheart," he chuckled as she looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Sorry... you, err...you startled me." She whispered as he moved his hands so they gripped at the side of the kitchen counter on either side of her, caging her in with his body.

"Some women would like that," he quipped, arching an eyebrow a little and watched as she swallowed hard and cast her eyes downward. Moving one hand slowly up her arm, over her shoulder and around her neck, he tipped her head back up so those large, Bambi eyes locked onto his.

His hand adjusted, gripping her chin softly as he moved closer still, dipping his head he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. He felt her go rigid, her chest spiking as she drew in a sharp breath, her body shaking slightly in his hold. "Stop fighting it..." he whispered against her mouth before he kissed her again. This time, his tongue traced the line of her upper lip, the feel of it soft and soothing.

You felt his tongue line your lip and you couldn't hold the whimper of fear that passed through you. He’d never kissed you before, not on the mouth anyway. You felt him deepen his kiss, his big hand cupping your face, pulling you into it more. Your mind went elsewhere, imagining anyone but him kissing you like this. You couldn't deny it, this intimate moment, completely lost on both of you for different reasons, felt good and he was good at it. He was damn good at it in fact, and that alone made you want to vomit your breakfast into his throat. At that, you jerked back, panting a little, feeling your lips swollen from the way he'd sucked your bottom one between his, pulling at it just the right way. You hated the feeling between your legs that it had evoked, your body betraying you just like it always did.

In an attempt to stave off the conflicting emotions spiking within you, you focussed on his face, the face you hated and to your surprise he looked dazed. The usual stoic expression that clouded his features had been replaced with something akin to surprise but no sooner had you noticed it, it was gone.

"Clean up and I'll meet you in the study." He told you, his voice a deep almost pained whisper.

"But I don't..." you started but were quickly cut off.

"You're a smart girl, figure it out," he smirked and slipped away.

You were tempted to follow, just so you'd see where he was going but you knew not to defy a command. The feeling of unease seemed to disappear as you slumped your shoulders and instead defeat filled your frame. A trembling hand came to your lips as jittery fingertips touched your swollen skin. Your bottom lip quivered like a ripple in a river and you quickly covered your mouth, turning on a dime as your French toast littered the sink. If the water hadn't been running already, Ransom would no doubt have heard you retching. You rinsed your mouth out to attempt at hiding that vomit taste from your tongue and quickly finished your task of cleaning up the kitchen, salty tears dripping from your chin, mixing with the soapy water.

When you could stall no longer, you sighed and headed out into the large hallway, taking a quick look around. It was light, airy, the grand staircase swept in and curved round to the next floor and your eyes lingered on the heavy wooden door just beyond it. You hesitated, and then with a dejected sigh realised there was no point even trying to escape. Even if it was unlocked, which you doubted, the threat to your family was just too much for you to risk. Instead, you decided to head down the corridor to your right and found yourself in a large open plan living room of sorts. It was decorated in clean whites and crisp greys with a huge feature stone open fireplace and sported a bar at the back. A brown leather sofa and two matching arm chairs were strategically placed around an expensive looking coffee table but you didn’t bother to look at the rest, this wasn’t the room you needed so you turned back on yourself, walked back into the hall and took the turning to your left.

This time you found yourself walking into what you could only assume was his study-come-den of sorts. It was huge, and once again sported a sofa pushed up against the wall, looking out over the spectacular view of not only the garden but the river too. But that wasn’t what caught your attention, nor was it the walnut desk and laptop that sat upon it. It was the floor to ceiling bookshelf behind it. Your mouth dropped open as you made your way towards it but then you stopped, biting your lip. Were you supposed to be looking at them? But, he had said to meet you in here. And left you to find your own way. Surely, if he didn’t want you looking around he wouldn’t have left you to it.

Throwing caution to the wind you strode forward, your pace hurried this time and your eyes quickly scanned across some of the books. You couldn’t help but feel shocked. Whilst there was a huge collection of his Grandfather’s books, and a number of other crime novels of types, it was the colourful spines to your right that made your chest heave in delight. The entire Harry Potter collection. With a shaky hand you reached for The Philosopher’s Stone, noting the British version of the title, and opened the front page giving another gasp as you read the publishing details.

This was a first edition. And from the date you also knew it would be one that contained the misprint errors. And as such, would be worth a small fortune.

“See something you like?” that familiar voice hit your ears and you gave a little shriek, jumping around, clutching the book to your chest to avoid dropping it.

“I’m sorry.” You hastily began to apologise “I was just…erm…”

“It’s ok.” He assured you, crossing towards you. Once more he encroached into your personal space and you felt the blades of your shoulders press into the shelf behind you. “Harry Potter fan?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “Didn’t think they’d be your type of thing.

“They’re not really.” He shrugged “I’m a collector. Everything on the shelves, well they’re all first or limited editions, so worth a lot.”

“Figures.” You mumbled, turning round and slotting the book back into the space it had come from. As you did you felt him push up behind you, his hands on your hips, the unmistakable feel of his hard on dug into the lower part of your back and you fought to stop yourself shuddering. He was after pay-back for allowing you to leave your prison.

“Did you like the house?” he asked, brushing your hair off your neck.

“Yes.” You answered politely, your voice catching a little as he placed a kiss to the crook of your shoulder.

“You know, it could all be yours sweetheart if you just stopped fighting what you know you want” His kisses continued up your neck as his words whirled around your brain and you were back to where you had been in the kitchen. It felt good. And that disgusted you.

“Did you enjoy making breakfast?” he whispered, his lips by your ear.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely there.

“Show me how much.” His teeth nipped at your lobe, his hips grinding forward and you swallowed and closed your eyes. You knew what he wanted but as you turned to face him you had an idea. One which would save you being fucked no doubt over the desk or on the hard looking couch.

With a lick of your lips you looked at him and sank slowly to your knees, taking his sweats with you. His hard cock sprang free, slapping his lower abs and you reached out, grasping it in your hand.

“Fuck, yeah baby…” Ransom hissed as you moved your head forwards and took him in your mouth.

You pulled out all the moves, you took him as deep as you could, gagging a little as he wasn’t a small man. You kept your hand firmly on the base of his cock, you hollowed your lips, you swirled your tongue around his shaft and he let out a little groan his hand fisting in your hair as his hips bucked forwards.

“Jesus, I knew your mouth was smart but…” he panted, looking down at you. You raised your eyes to look at his as he bit his lip, his entire face contorted in pleasure…

Pleasure that was ruined by the sound of the doorbell.

“What the fuck…” Ransom growled out, un-fisting his hand from her hair. “Who the fuck is that?”

He glanced down at her and she looked up at him, wide eyed. She was a mess, swollen lips, wet chin and dressed in nothing but her skimpy tank and shorts. With a frustrated growl, Ransom pulled his dick out of her mouth and grabbed his phone from the table to check the doorbell camera. His face blanched as he saw who it was.

“I don’t fucking believe it…” he mumbled, as she looked up at him.

“Who is it?” She asked, wiping her face, “I’m not exactly dressed for visitors, Hugh.”

Ransom might have been pre-occupied with the familiar face staring at him from his phone, but he still picked up on that 'Hugh' and he glared down at her. “No shit, and because we have a visitor, I'm gonna let that one slide. Get up.” She rose to her feet, blinking a little as he pulled off the thermal he was wearing and tossed it to her. “Put that on. No one gets to see you in silk but me.”

She blinked as she caught it, confusion spreading across her face. “Don’t you just want me to go-“

In a flash, he grabbed her chin between his thumb and finger and she winced, “If I wanted you downstairs I’d have said. So put the damn shirt on, and when he starts asking questions just remember what I said I could do to your family and friends.”

In complete complacency, he watched her slip his thermal over her head, her fingers barely peeking through the sleeves to fix her dishevelled hair. The material hit her mid-thigh and his eyes brows gave a flicker of approval before he walked to the entry and opened the door. "What do you want?"

"Pleasure to see you too, Mr. Drysdale..." that infuriating Southern drawl hit Ransom's ears with all the finesse of a cheese-grater. Benoit Blanc, without so much as a gesture of request, pushed past Ransom as he strode inside, stopping in the tiled entry, looking around.

"Do you have a warrant?" The man of the house snipped in his usual spiteful tone.

Blanc still didn’t reply, and Ransom rolled his eyes following him as he wandered down the hallway, stopping at the open door to the study. "Well, if it isn't the lady of the hour."

Ransom stood behind Blanc, an infuriatingly warning glare sent his girl's way. He noted the way she was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, lips still swollen, cheeks flushed, hair tousled. She looked like a sex kitten, and maybe that was the idea. He warned her to sell it after all…

"Excuse me?” Y/N looked up at the two men in the doorway.

Blanc stepped inside the room, taking a seat on the edge of the same couch where she sat. "I've been looking for you, young lady. A lot of people are looking for you, you know Miss Y/L/N.”

“I errr…” she swallowed a little as she slowly got to her feet, her hands pulling the hem of the thermal down before she folded her arms across her chest, not in a defiant manner, but almost as if she was hugging herself “Did someone send you or…”

“No, nothing like that. You see, I heard you'd gone missing, and I knew you had a work connection to Mr. Drysdale, that, shall we say didn't go quite as planned. So when things started adding up, I thought to ask the man himself."

“Well, congratulations, this is one mystery you actually solved correctly, Sherlock. As you can see she’s here and she’s fine, and we were in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind….” Ransom folded his arms, his eyes moving from hers to Blanc, who was irritatingly completely ignoring him, his gaze focussed intently on the woman who stood in front of him.

Ransom could see him take her in fully, now seeing the situation he may have just walked in on. She looked dishevelled and was missing crucial parts of her clothing, but she had no tears in her eyes, no markings looking to be of abuse or out of the ordinary. None that were visible anyway. Blanc’s gaze then dragged over to Ransom who was bare foot in joggers and still half aroused, which he did nothing to hide as he folded his arms over his naked chest.

Ransom held Blanc’s gaze, his chin jutting out defiantly, the detective only looking away when the lady of the hour spoke, her voice quiet, as she gave a small nod. "He’s right, I’m fine."

"Then why not tell your family where you are?”

“I err…” Y/N’s right hand gripped he cuff of the sweater sleeve tightly, “I just, well, I…”

Ransom could see that she was losing it and he knew he had to intervene. He walked over to her and placed an arm around her, kissing the top of her head lightly, "It's alright, Sweetheart. I know how he can be frustrating. We're doing nothing wrong."

With that he turned his gaze to the man in front of him, not even trying to hide the sneer of contempt that was crossing his face “I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you Blanc.”

“Well, maybe Miss Y/L/N has some crayons hidden up her sleeve so to speak.” Blanc smiled innocently and Ransom felt the anger floor his system.

“You’re starting to really piss me off.” he snarled, “You barge into my home, without so much of an explanation…” his rant was stopped dead as Y/N placed her hand on his chest, palm splaying over his bare skin. Ransom swallowed at the touch of her fingers against his skin, firey hot just as they had been last night when they curled around his arms.

"Hey," she spoke and he looked down to see her giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes but one that should be enough to convince the dumbass detective who was watching them. "It's okay." She then turned to Blanc as he held his hand up, palm open, speaking to Ransom.

“I’m not trying to be frustrating Mr. Drysdale, I'm merely enquiring after Miss Y/L/N’s wellbeing."

"I'm not here under duress if that's what you're thinking.” She spoke, clearing her throat. “Hu… Ra, we have had to keep our relationship private,” she stumbled on the right identity, settling for 'we'. Clearing her throat again and settling her nerves, she continued, "Mr. Blanc, as you well know, I'm reporter and his background has been less than stellar as of late. It no doubt would not look good for either of us if it had come to light. My reputation as a journalist would have been in tatters.”

“Well, lies and deception certainly go hand in hand when it comes to Mr. Drysdale...”

Ransom rolled his eyes dramatically “Change the record, Blanc. The static is a little loud.”

Blanc completely ignored him, his attention still on her. “So you caused all this worry, because of some…” he waved his hand in front of him, gesturing between the pair of them.

Ransom’s arm curled round her even tighter, his fingers pressing into her hip and he felt her stiffen a little before she relaxed into his side and gave a small nod.

"Like I said, it wouldn’t have gone down well with my family, or my career.”

“Ahh, yes, your job, which you quit.” Blanc looked at her. “Yes, I spoke to your boss.” He answered her unasked question. “Why would you be so worried for your reputation as a journalist, if you’re not actually a journalist anymore?”

At that she took a deep breath “I quit the paper because my boss is an asshole. His antics on Halloween were a step too far. But that doesn’t mean I have no intentions of working ever again. I'm currently taking a long overdue sabbatical.”

Blanc studied her again, almost as if he was weighing something up and she once more began to fidget and Ransom decided he’d had enough.

"Okay, I’m done being polite,” Ransom moved his arm from around his girl and stepped towards Blanc, placing himself directly between the detective and the woman. “You've interrupted out little post brunch love affair and I’m horny, so…do you need help finding the door, or can your super sleuth skills figure the way back out of it on their own?”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Blanc spoke, his eyes locked onto Ransom’s. Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw twitch, the fact that Blanc wasn’t scared of him irritated him no end.

There was a pause and then her voice came clearly from behind him as she spoke, “If you'd be so kind as to not tell my family where I am, I'd appreciate it. I prefer this time without their unwanted opinion.” Her voice was steady, measured almost. “You can tell them that you've found me, alive and well."

Blanc knew he wasn't welcome, he had proof of life and no reason to suspect foul play. He stood, his long wool coat falling into place around him. "Well, then I guess my work is done." He brushed passed Ransom and gave a quick quip, "I'm warning you...."

"What was that?" His girl wondered. She'd heard him.

"Have a nice day," Blanc nodded curtly “I’ll see myself out.”

You watched the back of the detective as he left the large living room, Ransom following him to the doorway where he stood, arms folded, watching. The sound of Blanc’s feet on the tiles of the hallway grew fainter and fainter until eventually they stopped completely. The latch of the door sounded and you fell to the closest thing you could sit on. Your while body shook with a chill that crept into your bones but not from the cold. No, you were sick to your stomach in fear and worry. The bile of deceit rose to your throat and had you not already spewed up your breakfast it would have most likely decorated the carpet of the study. Instead, you swallowed down the sour bile as Drysdale approached you and you glanced up at him, blinking whilst he studied you for a second, his face passive. As you held his gaze, something akin to amusement flashed in his cold blue eyes and a twisted smirk spread across his face.

“Your acting skills certainly improved there along the way, at the end you were almost award worthy.” He drawled, his hands falling to his hips. “Even Meryl Streep would be jealous.”

"Fuck you," your voice quivered.

He arched an eyebrow, an amused expression on his features “Already played that game Sweetheart, and carry on back-chatting me and you’ll be back in the basement.”

"Wh... What?"

"You pulled through in the end there. It was a rough start, but you convinced Colonel Sanders that you were here on your own."

“Colonel Sanders?” You blinked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Blanc. CSI KFC.” He replied. You were none the wiser as to what he was going on about and it must have shown on your face as he simply rolled his eyes. "Never mind...the point is, sweetheart, I'm in a good mood. And seeing as you behaved...”

"What?" Your voice was quiet, meek.

"If you shut that pretty little mouth for longer than a second, I'll explain." His tone was measured but you didn’t miss the underlying threat.

“Sorry.” Your eyes fell to the floor, your left hand worrying at your right.

“Eyes on me.” He barked and your head whipped up automatically and he smirked at you as you took a deep breath. “As I was saying, seeing as you were such a good girl, I thought I’d reward you, let you stay up here with me for the day.”

The notion shocked you. Your mouth went dry and you couldn't make sense of it. But then, the more you thought about it, the more his audacity irked you. He’d imprisoned you, used you, abused you…and now he was implying that staying in his company was a fucking reward.

“Wow, thanks…” you blurted before you could stop yourself, sarcasm lacing your tone. As soon as the words had slipped from your mouth you felt panic flood your system as he stepped towards you and reached out, his right hand curling around your throat.

"Don’t push me sweetheart.” His voice was low as his fingers squeezed the column of your neck, a reminder of how easily he could simply end it all whenever he chose.

And just like that the softness that he had displayed with you earlier that morning was gone, and the shutters were back up. You swallowed hard, feeling the strain of your throat against his touch, his eyes now dark and full of that familiar angry lust and desire that chilled you from head to toe. Blanc had riled him, gotten underneath his skin, that was easy to see while your mouthy comments fuelled that ire. And as such, he needed an escape, an outlet.

And he was going to get it from you.

“Now on your knees and finish what you started."

**** Part 4

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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mrsamaroevans · 3 years

Text

YOU ALL OVER ME | ANGEL REYES

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x the consequences of his bad decisions with Female Reader.

Words: 3,673.

Warnings: Sad and like a bad word. English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: This is the first thing I finish like in ages! This was not requested but I couldn’t stop listening to You All Over Me by Taylor and this came out. Thank you so much for reading, feedback is well received. *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“The best and worst day of June was the one that I met you, with your hands in your pockets and your ‘don't you wish you had me’ grin. But I did, so I smiled”

Santo Padre Regional High School.

Those were the words that you read before crossing the door with your mother. You had only one week in Santo Padre and you still had time before the school year begins, but she wanted to have all that ready as soon as possible.

While your mother was making all the paperwork, you were waiting on a bench outside of the office until you got bored. As no one could stop you, you decided to walk around for the facilities of what soon would be your new school. It was smaller than the school you used to go to before moving across the country, but it was okay. Classrooms were big enough, lockers a bit smaller y the patios were open and surrounded by green areas. You weren’t too disgusted about changing school again anymore.

Near the cafetería, was a mural with pictures of the different extracurricular classes and the people who were part of them. The cheerleader’s team looked too pretentious. You hated that cliché, but it was what you felt by just looking at the picture, you could be wrong though. The theatre team looked cool, maybe you’d join them. Then, was the football team.

Guys that looked bigger than what a sixteen-year-old guy should be. One of them proudly carried a big trophy. He had to be the leader, it always is. What was the position they had? You didn’t know, you weren’t too familiar with the terms of the sport.

But that guy in specific caught your attention. It wasn’t because of the trophy he had in his hands or what that meant. He had a beautiful smile, but for some reason, it didn’t look sincere. There was something in his eyes that kept you looking at him. All of him looked happy and proud, but there was something more. Unfortunately, if someone asked you what it was, you wouldn’t know how to explain it. But there was something there.

“You’re new?”

You gave a little jump at the unexpected voice on your side. You turned to your right and you saw him again. The same guy with the trophy in the picture, now in real size at your side.

“I’m gonna be” you nodded and looked back at the mural to see the rest of the teams.

“And, you like what you see?”

That flirty tone in his voice almost made you laugh. You turned to him again and saw that he had a smile that combined with the tone of voice he used and with the question he had made. His hands in his pockets, making his biceps more notorious.

“A little bit, yeah,” you said, willing to not let him intimidate you. And the truth was that you really liked what you were seeing “You are on summer break, right? What are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna do an exam,” he said like he didn’t want to talk much about it, but you didn’t realize it.

“You’re still on finals?” You asked, confused. The first time you noticed in your route was that there were no students or teachers.

“Oh, no… it’s an extraordinary exam. Chemistry” The guy answered as he didn’t care too much that he failed a class. You didn’t know what would be your situation at home if you were in his place.

“So, you’re not good with chemistry, then”

“It all depends on the situation” he smiled.

You kept his gaze for a few seconds. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to know that the first guy that got close to you in that city had made you shy. But the visual contact didn’t last too long, ‘cause you had to look at the ground for a second.

“What did you say your name was?” You asked, looking back at his face. He had beautiful brown eyes, but you were afraid that if you look at them for too long, he could know all your secrets.

“Angel,” he said and he looked so calm that that frustrated you even more.

“And I’m sure you’re not one”

Angel devilishly grinned and you felt your knees going a little weak. How a guy that you didn’t even know could have that power on you?

“What’s your name?” He asked and when you were about to answer, your phone rang so you lifted your index finger at him to ask for a moment. You took your mother’s call and the first thing she asked was:

“Where did you go?”

“I’m just walking around,” You told her calmly. You felt kinda sad when she told you that you needed to go to the office to sign the institutional regulation. That meant that your conversation with Angel came to an end “Okay... coming” you end the call and as you were placing your phone back into your pocket, you said: “I have to go”

You looked at him for the last time and started to make your way to the office, but you didn’t even give five steps when he spoke again.

“Hey!” He shouted making you turn back to him “You didn’t tell me your name”

“(Y/n)” you smiled and turned around to the way you had ahead.

“I lived, and I learned. Had you, got burned. Held out, and held on, God knows”

All the effort for the first date. The first kiss. The first ‘I love you.' The first time you made love. That day you met his parents and they adopted you into their family right away. All the double dates with his brother and girlfriend. The fairs and festivals. The football matches in which you were the one screaming louder than anyone whenever they made a score. His better grades. The jealousy from both sides. The fights because of the cheerleaders. All those break-ups and comebacks. Those days at the beach. The laughs. The tears. The good and the bad had gone and all because of his insecurities.

How did that happen? With three pictures someone left in your locker.

“What the hell, Angel?” Was the first thing you asked when you confronted him after school.

He saw the pictures and shrugged “You need me to explain it?” Those words had hit you too hard like never before a question had made. Your heart was breaking and it looked like he didn’t care even a little.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, not understanding that attitude towards you. He had never talked to you like that.

“Nothing, you’re the one who wants to fight,” He said, turning around to walk to the small desk beside his bed.

“I received pictures of you sleeping with Haley, what were you expecting?” You got close and threw the pictures at his back, they hit him and then fell to the floor. Angel barely looked at them and chuckled.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, turning to you.

“That it’s not so…?” You laughed at what you heard. Angel was a bit distant weeks before you had to go to college to finish your registration, but you never thought something like that could happen “It has to be a joke”

“You left for a week and I had physiology needs”

“Fucking jerk!” You shouted and couldn’t help but push him making him crashed against his desk. Some brushes fell to the floor and the tears in your eyes started to gather. You didn’t want him to see you crying, so you decided it was time to go.

“Everyone told you that but you didn’t want to see it” he aggressively said.

“Well, you got it” you turned to him and shrugged “Another broken heart… you smashed it” your voice trembled with the last words. That seemed to affect him because his hard expression softened for a second “I hope you’re happy”

But Angel wasn’t even close to being happy.

Once you left his room, he sat on the floor and saw the pictures. He ripped them apart while the tears fell from his cheeks. He hated himself.

He was a coward. He couldn’t break up with you, but he couldn’t let you stay with him. You had plans that he didn’t. Your vision of the future didn’t fit with his, and it was because he didn’t have one. He didn’t have plans like you, he wanted to go and take anything that comes his way. You had ambition, you had a plan to make your dreams come true, and him? He didn’t have anything.

To his eyes, you didn’t deserve someone like him.

“I lived, and I learned, and found out what it was to turn around and see, that we were never really meant to be”

Years went by and life changed.

Angel went through something he thought he never would. His mother has ripped away from their lives and that had been a hard blew for him. His little brother was sent to prison y couldn’t help but feel responsible because he made his way to get a gun easier. Ezekiel told him it was for mere protection, but deep down he knew his brother wanted retaliation.

And that made him get life imprisonment for the homicide of a cop.

His relationship with his father became tenser than what already was. But, after all that he had lost, he found a shelter. The club. Mayans MC. Those men went from simple mates to family too quickly.

He had heard from his father that you came back to the city. By that moment you were already done with college and your parents had been —finally— established in Santo Padre. You told him once, that you had fallen in love with the city and that, definitely, you could see your future there. So, when Felipe said that, he didn’t doubt in believing him.

But knowing you came back and seeing you had been so different for him.

He was on his way to the scrapyard in his bike with Coco and Gilly at both of his sides, but they had to stop for gas. Coco was saying something about how much he hated the hot weather and the incensement in the price of gas when a silver jeep parked in the pump in front of his.

Three doors opened. From the driver’s one jumped off a man with braids and sunglasses; he went directly to the pump. From one of the backseats door, as beautiful as he remembered, you went out.

He saw how you fixed your dress and laugh at something someone told you. You were fanning your face with your hands, a sign that you were hot. Then, a couple of seconds later, you took your hair and tied it in a messy bun. The hot air of Santo Padre in summer was excessive.

“We should have closed the windows and put the air conditioner” Angel heard a masculine voice and then he heard your laugh.

“You know that the combination of air conditioner and this weather make me sick, honey”

Honey. Angel hadn’t forgotten how that word sounded coming from your lips, but hearing you say it to another man broke his heart.

A man in a suit that looked to be more expensive than all of the boots Angel had, walked to you. He had a smile when he kissed you and even though he didn’t want to keep watching, for some unknown reason he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That last house’s not a sign to desist in looking for our home here,” the man told you, taking your hands “We’re gonna find the perfect house or the perfect place to build it”

“I know,” you said and nodded. Your left hand touched his cheek and that was when Angel turned to his bike. The sunrays helped to the gleam of the giant diamond in your finger to not being unnoticed by him.

You were engaged, and you and your fiancé were looking for a house, which meant it wouldn’t take long for you to marry.

“You okay?” Coco asked him. He was pale and it seemed he could faint at any moment. But Angel didn’t answer, he turned to the jeep when the doors got closed instead.

The driver started the engine and that was when your gaze stopped in him.

You looked fine. You looked happy. When your eyes connected with his, you didn’t seem surprised or hurt, or shocked. In fact, he couldn’t decipher what he saw in your eyes.

“You know her?” Gilly asked.

“I used to,” Angel said when he found his voice which wasn’t quickly.

And even though he was hurt for letting you go in the way he did, when he saw you he realized that he had made the right decision. ‘Cause you belong to the world that man in the expensive suit could give you. It was too painful though, to find out —again— that he never really had a chance like that with you.

That night, he required the services of Vicky’s girls and after that, Coco had to drive him to his apartment ‘cause he couldn’t even walk for all the alcohol he drank to cope with the pain.

“So I lied, and I cried, and I watched a part of myself die”

Days after and thanks to el Padrino, he knew who your fiancé was. His name was Miguel Galindo and he was the son of José Galindo, founder of one the most powerful and deadliest cartels in the México-USA border. He also knew that your wedding was set to be in October and that would be in three months.

That day in the gas station wasn’t the last time he saw you. He had seen you in the mall with the first friend you made in Santo Padre. You met in the market and it had been so uncomfortable. There were a lot of people and you had to walk by too close to each other. He also saw you going out of a restaurant with Miguel at your side and once and then you two were in the paper news for going to charity events.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you at the side of another man, he could never get use to it.

“I know you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, but… why did you break up?” Felipe asked him. He didn’t more information to know what he meant. Angel had a couple of days going to his parents' house and Felipe knew why.

You had been there on so many occasions and Angel still couldn’t get over you.

“I cheated on her” Angel said “I slept with one of the cheerleaders and I made sure to have evidence. Evidence that I left in her locker”

Felipe sighed and shook his head no “We didn’t raise you like that, Angel”

“I know that” he sounded irritated “But I needed to push her away from me so she could get all the goals she had in life… and it turned out fine. She’s so much better now”

“Did you apologize to her?” His father questioned, hoping to get a positive answer, but when Angel remained silent, he got the answer he didn’t want “You have to do it, Angel. She was and is a great woman, she didn’t deserve that. But at least do it for your mother” Angel turned to his father. There were tears in his eyes at the mention of her “Your mother loved that kid, and she always taught you to apologize when you did something wrong”

Angel nodded and took his gaze up to the ceiling, promising his mother that he would apologize next time he sees you.

A month went by to see you again. A Friday, his father had asked him for help at the butcher shop, so he went out of the clubhouse and when he arrived at the shop, he saw a jeep parked outside and a man waiting by the backseat’s door. For the glass of the shop, he saw his father talking to you. You were smiling and later, your exit coincided with his entrance.

“Sorry,” you said with a small smile and thanked him when Angel stepped aside to let you walk out.

Angel looked at his father and the expression on his face said “Go” so he just nodded got out of the shop.

“Hey, (y/n)” his voice went out less determined than what he wanted, but it worked out to have your attention. The driver had already opened the door for you, but you still turned to him “Can we talk?”

“Uh… I don’t see why” you said.

“Please…” Angel insisted, feeling nervous for the first time in too long.

“Fine” you nodded and made a sign to your driver for him to wait. He took the butcher bag and went to the trunk “What happens?” You asked, giving a few steps towards him.

Angel pointed at the table so you could sit with him, and you did.

“I never apologized for what I did to you,” he said after a few seconds of silence. He saw you sighing and shaking your head.

“Angel…” you began to say, but he interrupted you.

“No, wait… I’m sorry. I truly am and I was in that moment too” he accepted, taking you by surprise ‘cause that day you didn’t see any repentance in him “I was a jerk, you didn’t deserve that and I’m so sorry”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment. Clearly, you had gotten over what happened, but, talking about it only took you to all the pain you felt and the depression you fell into that lasted more than you would have liked.

“Well, thank you for your apologies. I accept them” you finally said and Angel looked relieved with those words “But, don’t worry anymore… it’s been some years and we got over it, right?” You asked with a small smile on your face.

“Yeah…” Angel lied “I think it turned out fine for both of us”

“Yes, everything’s fine now” you repeated “And, well… we’re going to find once and then, the city is too small. Is good that it won’t be uncomfortable next time we cross paths” you smiled once more and stood up “I have to go” Angel accepted that and even though he wanted to make you stay a little bit longer. You stopped and turned to him by yourself “Angel?”

Angel looked up to you, you were closer than what he thought you would “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” you said pressing your lips together. When that happened, you called Felipe and Ez and talked to them, but you didn’t dare to talk to Angel.

“Thanks for the flowers” you shook your head no. You sent those flowers because you were in pain for what happened too, not because you wanted to look good before them or for them to thank you afterward.

“I loved her. She was amazing”

Angel smiled, remembering the times when his mother had told him that you were the one and that she would love to have you as a daughter-in-law “She loved you, too. She loved you so much” he admitted.

You smiled and did something that took him by surprise: you hugged him.

Angel reacted in time to hug you back, he did it tighter though, like he didn’t want to let you go again, and the truth was that he didn’t want to.

“Bye,” you said when you got apart, but he couldn’t say anything back. He just looked how you got in the car and how the jeep went away from the shop as he held on to those five seconds that the hug lasted.

The days kept on going until they became weeks and October arrived quicker than Angel imagined. El Padrino was invited to the wedding ‘cause he had been close to your future late father-in-law, so Miguel appreciated him.

Angel had promised himself he wouldn’t go. Being there and see you taking someone else’s name wouldn’t help in anything, but couldn’t contain from doing it. A few minutes after seven p.m, he drove to the church and waited outside. He was in a spot in which people couldn’t see him, but he would see when they go out. In his hands, he had a strip with black and white pictures from one of those machines at fairs. Those were the only pictures he kept after you broke up with him.

In the first one, you were only smiling. In the second, he was kissing you and in the third, you were smiling and showing your left hand in which you had a candy ring that Angel bought for you.

At 7:45 people started to leave the church and it didn’t take too long for you and your now-husband to go out. You looked beautiful. Your smile could light up the whole country, and, the man at your side looked happy too. He should be. Marry you should be enough reasons to be the happiest and luckiest man on the planet.

A tear fell when your husband cupped your face and kissed you. It didn’t matter how happy you looked, Angel couldn’t help but wish to be him taking your hand at that moment. He looked down at the pictures and sighed. He left them in the tree trunk that was being used as his hiding spot and turned to you, one last time.

He still loved you like the first day and he couldn’t deny it, and also couldn’t hide it. He was hoping to find you in another life to make things right.

“Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean. I’ve still got you all over me”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#angel reyes #angel reyes drabble #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes gif #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x oc #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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oscar-lettjohanssonloveme · 4 years

Text

"And I’m damn proud of you, because you survived another day." (Ms. Venable x reader,

hiyaa :3 i wrote this yesterday while we were stuck in traffic...so idk lol

summary: You are depressed coz of the apocalypse and your girlfriend wants to help you..idk i’m bad in smt like that :’)

warnings: depression, talking about suicide, pills

“momma im in love with google translate”

"Maybe I'm going crazy now, but I saw a young woman in the hallway in front of the library last night", Mr. Gallant said at the dinner tonight

Timothy just shrugged.

"It must have been some Gray who got lost", he muttered and stabbed the little cube in front of him with his fork.

Mister Gallant rolled his eyes.

"No I swear!", Replied the hairstylist. "I know all the Grays by now and I've never seen her before and she wore purple."

Stu, who was sitting next to the man, suppressed a laugh.

"You've probably seen a ghost, I said it's only a question of time before the first of us commits suicide."

"Or until Miss Venable killed everyone who didn't obey her rules", Coco added in a whisper and made the others laugh.

Unlucky Miss Venable wasn't deaf.

"What nonsense .." hissed the red-haired woman at the other end of the table.

"I promise you, the only ghost that will haunt around here is Mister Gallant's, should he wander around the Outpost one more time."

Immediately everyone stopped laughing and all eyes were on Miss Venable, who now stood up without a word to go out of the room.

"Or her ghost, if she continues to act as if we were her subjects ..", Coco mumbled quietly before she turned back to her 'dinner'.

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

Miss Venable ran through the corridors of her outpost to get to her room.

What those idiots at the table had said worried her. Not because she cared about other people's opinions, simply because they were right. The thing with the ghost was just a joke, but it was, what you basically were...a ghost.

Ever since you first met before all of this, you had been struggling with depression and an apocalypse was unlikely to improve your condition. She had decided it was better if the other residents of the outpost didn't find out about your existence. Which wasn't a problem, because most of the day you were just lying in bed tired anyway.

"Hey princess .." she said gently as she entered your bedroom. Her eyes fell on you in concern. Like the days before, you lay buried in your blanket and the only thing what she could see was your disheveled hair, which had become greasy. One would have thought you would have been dead, had your chest not slowly raised and lowered again.

Mina closed the door behind her, before crossing the room to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. She carefully pulled the covers down to reveal your face. Without emotion, you stared with bleary eyes into the flame of the torch that hung on the wall.

"How do you feel?", Mina whispered and pushed a few strands of your hair from your face.

"I missed you ..", you answered in a dry voice and Mina could feel a pang in her chest when she heard it.

"I'm here now", she muttered as she put her hand on your cheek.

She looked sadly into your cloudy eyes and knew that you probably wished you weren't alive any longer.

You cleared your throat and turned your gaze to Mina. And Mina could see that you were trying to bring a small smile to your chapped lips.

"I took my pills .." you said and Mina's eyes lit up at your words.

"Thats great, princess!", she called and smiled lovingly at you.

"I'm proud of you."

"And I ate the cubes", you added as you pull the blanket a little higher over your shoulders. "Even they were disgusting."

"You are such a good girl", Mina muttered before bending over to press her lips against the warm skin of your temple.

"I'll have a quick shower before I get to bed with you", she explained and got up to look at you thoughtfully.

"Do you want to join me?"

You looked at her for a few seconds with narrowed eyes.

"I look like shit don't I?" You finally said as you stood up with shaky legs and held onto her arm, which she held out to you.

"Don't say that", Mina replied as she led you into your bathroom. "You are beautiful as always, Princess".

Together with Mina's help, you manage to shower. It was unbelievably exhausting for Mina to stand so long without her cane and the fact that she now also helped you to wash, bordered on a miracle.

After both of you showered and dried your hair, you climbed into your bed and you could finally curl up in your girlfriend's arms.

"I forgot to ask how your day was". Mina heard you whisper in the dark while rubbing her hands over the bare skin of your back.

She pondered briefly what to answer you. Her day had been shitty. Those selfish, rich assholes were just annoying.

"My day was okay", she mumbled and suddenly she remembered the conversation at dinner.

"Why didn't you tell me, you were in the library last night?" She added without sounding reproachful.

"How do you know that?" You asked confused as you started to play with the hem of her purple nightgown. When Mina didn't answer you continued.

"I wanted to read last night so I went to the library to get a book."

Mina hesitated a few seconds before answering. Somewhere it was great, you had left your room for the first time in weeks, but on the other hand she disapproved the thought of you, wandering through the corridors of the outpost at night.

"You could have woken me up, I would have gone with you." she said finally.

"Did you at least be able to read?"

"I gave up after the first three sentences", you sighed.

"It was just too much."

Your girlfriend wrapped her arms around you a little tighter when she heard the regret in your voice.

"It's okay .." she hummed. "The only important thing right now, is that you survived another day. I'm proud of you princess", she muttered, suppressing a yawn before closing her eyes and falling asleep a few minutes later.

She told you that every evening.

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

You had been in this outpost for almost two months and you got tired of waking up every morning with a fear of opening your eyes. Because a part of you still had the hope,that it was just a nightmare. But whenever you opened your eyes, instead of staring out of the window of your bedroom, you stared into the fire of the torch, thag hung next to the bed and all your hopes died.

You found yourself ungrateful and you could think of countless people, who would have deserved your place in the Outpost much more than you did. You weren't anyone and just because Mina was your girlfriend you were still alive. That was unfair.

Of course you could see how worried Mina was about you and you hated yourself for it. The world had come to an end and Mina, as the head of this outpost, paid her attention to you, the poor little wreck that couldn't even shower by itself.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders when a slight breeze made you shiver and sent goosebumps all over your body. It had been a stupid idea to leave your room again, but you had to promise Mina that you would take your pills and now you were looking for the kitchen, if there was something like that here, to get a glass of water.

Usually Mina brought you these things and you couldn't blame her for forgetting today.

It was currently 10 p.m. and you were already in your pajamas while walking barefoot through the outpost to get some water.

"Oh my god. Gallant was right, it's haunted here", a shrill voice suddenly called from behind you and made you flinch. You turned slowly around and looked with narrowed eyes into the face of a blonde woman, who came up to you and stood in front of you with folded arms.

"Are you a purple?" She asked you frowning and you nodded curtly.

"And whats your name?" She asked further.

"Y / N", you mumbled and decided at the same moment, that you didn't like this woman.

"Well, Y / N, I've never seen you here before",

the blonde cocked her head and looked at you piercingly as

you looked away from her and looked embarrassed at your feet.

"I spend a lot of time in my room."

"Your room?" Asked the woman confused.

"Which room do you live in exactly? To the best of my knowledge, all of the rooms in the outpost are occupied. You can't have a room of your own-"

"I should go now", you muttered as you turned to move away from this annoying woman, but she grabbed your wrist.

"Just wait until Miss Venable finds out", she said, looking down at you smugly. "You know, she-"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Mina's loud voice at the end of the hall made you both drive around to her.

The blonde immediately let go of your wrist and pointed with outstretched fingers at your trembling form.

"This is the woman Mister Gallant was talking about", she said and looked at you disparagingly.

"You see? It's not haunted here", Mina hissed as she approached you both. "As tightly as you have gripped her wrist, she can't be a ghost."

"I've never seen her here before, how is that possible?" Asked the annoying woman and you winced again when her shrill voice boomed in your ears.

"Maybe because your selfish ass is too busy with itself?", Mina funodded angrily at the blonde, who thought with open mouth what she should answer, but Mina got ahead of her.

"I think you should go to bed now, before you say anything you might regret later", Mina kept her voice lowered while she spoke and sounded dangerous at the same time.

The woman next to you looked at you and then at Mina one more time before turning and reluctantly went down the hall.

"Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt", Mina said to you while she watched the blonde disappear into one of the rooms and you knew that she meant the woman's name.

"What are you doing here, princess?", asked your girlfriend and grabbed the hand that this woman, Coco, had just grabbed, to gently stroke the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I wanted to get some water.. you know, for the pills", you mumbled.

"And then this woman came."

"Go back to our room, it's cold," Mina cooed and gently squeezed your hand.

"I'll get you water."

"Thanks .." you said curtly and let go of her hand before turning around to go back to your room.

When Mina came to your room less than five minutes later, you were already buried in bed under your blanket again and only your head was sticking out.

"I've got your water", she muttered and walked across the room to put the glass on your bedside table. You mumbled a little "thank you", reached for the glass to wash down the pills.

As you drank, your eyes were glued on Mina, who crossed the room to lock your door and you could see her grimace with every step she took.

"You are in pain", you noticed shortly after you put your glass back on the table.

"Honey?" You kept trying as she ignored you.

"I'm fine," she growled without looking at you.

"Stop lying to me."

Again she didn't answer and just sat on the edge of her bed.

Worried you stared holes in her back while you chewed on your cracked lower lip. She always did that .. Whenever she felt bad and you noticed, she ignored you.

"Okay, come here", you sighed and climbed over the bed to sit cross-legged behind her.

"What is this supposed to be, Princess?"

Mina sounded confused when she felt you carefully pull the zipper of her dress down.

"I take care of you", you muttered and also pulled the zipper of her white lace blouse down to expose her back.

"Y / N, you really don't have to. I don't-"

"Shut up, Mina!", you growled and leaned over to take the lotion off her bedside table. You opened the jar to spread the lotion on your fingers.

"You let me know if I hurt you, right?" You whispered and when she nodded in agreement you carefully began to spread the ointment on her back.

The next minute was filled with a pleasant silence as you tried not to hurt your girlfriend and tried to be as gentle as possible. You usually did this for her every night, but for the past few weeks it had been canceled due to your health and it was obvious that she couldn't take care of it herself.

"How was your day, princess?", Mina finally asked quietly and you took a moment to think about her question.

"Better than yesterday", you said curtly while your fingers were still wandering over her serpentine spine.

"You know, everytime I close my eyes, I see faces of my friends and relatives and I wonder if this will ever end."

Mina hummed in agreement before speaking.

"I haven't had a lot of people I liked, but I can imagine how awful you feel. It may not be a comfort, but I think you will eventually get used to it."

"I don't know ,how I feel right now to be honest", you mumbled.

"Inside of me everything is so empty. I haven't shed a single tear in weeks, if you understand what I mean."

Mina nodded slowly and was about to say something when suddenly you wrapped your arms around her from behind and carefully leaned your forehead against her back.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Mina", you whispered against her skin. "And even if I'm not really showing it at the moment, I'm so grateful for everything you do for me and I love you so much."

"Oh Princess ..", Mina cooed gently as she turned around in your arms to press her lips against yours.

"I know that you love me and I love you too. And you survived another day and that's the only thing that matters at the moment."

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

A few days went by and you were still a total mess.

One day you walked around the room and could tidy up something while other days you could just lie in bed and stare holes in the wall. Mina was still very worried about you and really wanted you to be fine. But she also understood that this was probably going to be difficult for you, as there was nothing to hold on to your hope.

It was already afternoon when she was on her way to your room to bring you something, that she hoped would help. And while one hand was protecting herself on her stick, she was holding the clear plastic jar in the other, that she wanted to show you.

"Hey little sunshine", she called when she came into your room to find you wrapped in her blanket. She frowned.

"Why are you lying under my blanket?"

"I missed you and the blanket smells like you", you grumbled as you pulled the blanket down to reveal your face. Your eyes wandered to the plastic can in Mina's hand.

"What's that?" You asked confused

Mina smiled as she walked over to you to sit next to you on the bed.

"This is for you", she muttered and you sat up to take the can, she held out to you in your hands.

Mina looked at you expectantly and watched with satisfaction as your eyes lit up when you recognized the contents of the box.

"Oh my god, Mina", you breathed and began to smile while your eyes stared fascinated at the red butterfly, that was fluttering around in the box.

"She came into the outpost two days ago and I had her checked for diseases", Mina explained as she brushed a few of your hair off your face.

"She is beautiful", you whispered and when Mina saw tears glistening in your eyes, she knew that it was the right decision to give you the butterfly.

"She is", she mumbled contentedly before reaching out to tap the wall of the can with her index finger.

"And do you see the little pearls, that lie in the corner on the sheet? Those are eggs, from which caterpillars will hatch at some point-"

"And then they turn into more butterflies", you finished and she nodded.

"Mina, that's great, if we do everything right, we will not only be able to save our species, theirs too", you said and looked at Mina with sparkling eyes.

"You absolutely have to show the others .."

"Oh no", Mina replied.

"The others would find it more disgusting than fascinating, so you should take care of them."

"I ugh- well, thank you", you smiled brightly at her and Mina was glad to finally see you smile again. She leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead before she put her arm around you and you could rest your head on her shoulder. And while she was watching the little butterfly like you, the smell of her lavender perfume suddenly rose to her nose and she frowned.

"Do you wear my perfume, princess?", She asked confused and of course couldn't see how you blushed.

"As I said, I missed you", you muttered.

"Please don't be mad at me, i know its weird."

"No! I think its cute", Mina said quickly uhd pressed another kiss on your hair.

"And i'm damn proud of you, because you survived another day."

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable imagine #american horror story

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end.

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late.

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight.

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse.

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual.

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message.

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband.

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left.

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son.

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd.

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them.

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up.

-Your spidey senses were tingling.

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen.

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared.

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head.

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain.

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath.

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence.

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!”

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest.

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you.

- “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.”

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him.

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him.

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point.

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs.

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars.

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down.

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again.

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm.

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep.

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh.

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.”

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little.

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication.

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate.

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic.

-He was ready to pull his hair out.

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this.

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all.

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac.

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar.

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out.

-Why hadn’t you closed it?

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over.

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere.

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her.

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom.

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou.

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.”

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family.

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk.

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room.

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries.

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house.

- “I wish I could beat their ass.”

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.”

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.”

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you.

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears.

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that.

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.”

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap.

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop.

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher.

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son.

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning.

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk.

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday.

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago.

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine.

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight.

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight.

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up.

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him.

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home.

-He could never hate him.

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state.

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you.

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags.

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved.

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio.

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.”

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard.

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you.

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger.

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter.

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone.

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes.

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed.

-You felt him more than saw him.

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle.

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two.

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob.

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two.

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not.

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.”

- “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.”

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt.

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed.

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars.

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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❛ MY OTHER HALF ❜

✨ REQUEST: nose si voy tarde però bueno, espero que no. i would like to request (obviously if that is okay for you) a headcanon with angel x reader of the day of their wedding, like súper súper fluffy.

✨ MADE BY: @artofvamps

WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ Especial thanks to my lovely @angelreyesgirl for helping me with this wonderful masterpiece 🖤✨

❚❙ GIF credits: to the amazing @angels-reyes.

❚❙ ANGEL REYES MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Never in your life you could think about having a most perfect wedding, Angel didn't care about it too much, being enough for him to see you happy.

The most magical place you have ever been. Especially when the sun is almost falling, around five pm.

From the window of his room, you can see the backyard perfectly decorated by Creeper and Riz. They didn't lie when they told you that would be amazing.

White and red roses everywhere, forming vines wrapping the wooden beams of the altar. Over the guests' chairs, there are six fairy lights, giving some more intimacy when the night has come; and a red carpet in the hallway, over the grass.

All your friends are there, mixed with the Mayans, waiting for you.

Your hands are trembling, alone in Taza's room, while you hear some voices and laughs outside. You can't help but take another look of yourself in the mirror.

The white dress fits your body perfectly, falling from your chest to the floor.

The girl at the shop called it ‘a-line wedding dress’. You don't care about the name, but about the fact that you look like the most beautiful girl. Your hair is tied on top of your head, behind a delicate silver tiara and small red crystals in it. Soft make-up, that Bishop's Old Lady did for you, just like your future husband likes.

Felipe is run of words when he comes to the room, but you can see what he thinks in his eyes, about to cry.

You know that he would like that Marisol could see you marrying her son. She would love to see the man Angel turned himself into since he met you three years ago.

“Hey, I’m Angel Reyes, and you know what? You’ll be my wife one day”.

He wasn’t wrong.

But he’s not going to lie. He has been the whole night having nightmares about you running away from him; about you deciding that you didn’t want a life with him.

Ezekiel and Coco have been awake too, comforting him whenever the doubts hit his mind.

Holding Felipe’s arm, he guides you downstairs to the outside, feeling your legs shaking and your heart about to explode. You have doubts too. You’re scared of him taking a step back at the last moment.

Although every bad feeling disappears from the two of you, as soon as you lay eyes with each other.

Angel is about to cry. So are you.

For you, for him, there's no one else around your orbit. Just the two of you. Him waiting at the wedding altar, watching you walk over the red carpet perfectly placed on the ground.

And, damn. You thought that Angel couldn't look better, until you have seen him wearing that suit.

A black suit, covering the immaculate white shirt under a silver waistcoat with mayan symbols tissues in it. His hair is perfectly brushed to the back of his head and his beard is giving you desires of kissing it.

Seriously, it should be illegal to look this good.

But the detail that steals all your attention is the fact that he isn't wearing his characteristics rings. That big silver cross in his right pinkie and a signet ring with the Virgin of Guadalupe in his ring finger.

Felipe kisses your cheek, to intertwine his son's hand with yours.

You can't help but use your free hand to clean the tears falling down his cheeks, making Angel chuckles softly. You are always taking care of him with the most minimal details, showing him how much you love him, before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“You changed me. You changed my life. You came with that smile, illuminating all the darkness around me. You've accepted me, advised me, shown me the road to happiness, put me first. You've never, ever, judged me. You've healed me, you've healed my wounds, my soul, my heart. You gave me the opportunity I always thought I would never have… You, mi reina, have loved me unconditionally without asking for anything back. I don't have enough words to express how I feel every morning when I wake up with you under my arms, when I kiss you, when I see you dancing in our kitchen, when you… look me with these beautiful eyes as if I was the fucking Big Bang happening in front of you”. Bringing your hands to his mouth, Angel kisses every knuckle of them. “I can't imagine a single day without you, without hearing your laugh, without reading your texts desiring me a good day when you wake up and I'm already gone. I don't wanna live a single day without hearing you singing in the shower, without riding my bike with you behind my back, without you smacking my ass and screaming ‘daaaamn, this is all mine’! You make me happy like no one could do. You make me feel important like no one could do. And I promise you, fuck… I swear it to God, that I'm gonna give you all of me. Every second of every minute, of every hour of every day till the end of my time. I don't want to live without you”.

Now, it's Angel who has to clean your tears, causing some laughs between the guests. And he can't help but wrap you with his arms in a tight, tight hug. The warmest and dearly hug he has ever given you.

“I didn't know what love was until I met you. I didn't know which was the meaning of life until I met you. Mi rey. My other half. It was you, and only you, since I saw you the first time sitting on your bike, smoking and with that face of grumpy idiot”. The guests laugh again, because they all know that pose. “And then you standed up and started to walk, and I thought ‘what the hell is wrong with his leg’”. More laughs. The loudest comes from your future husband. “But I would never change you for anyone else. We've been through bad days and good days. Shitty nights and funny nights. I would never change my life with you for anything else. No one has ever made me happy as you do every moment of my existence. You're the most awesome, incredible, loyal and lovely man I have ever met. You fight for me, you take care of me, you protect me. You make me smile whenever I feel insufficient, whenever I feel sad, whenever I feel that I don't belong anywhere. My home, my life, my happiness is wherever you are, Angel Reyes”.

Then, Taza as the priest looks at the two of you, before guiding his dark eyes towards you. “Would you want to take Angel Ignacio Reyes in hol—”. He can't finish, being interrupted by the man in question clicking his tongue. “Of fucking course she wants”. Gently grabbing your chin with a hand and placing the other on the back of your head, Angel kisses you by pecking your lips, making you laugh.

But Leti breaks the moment, coughing exaggeratedly. You asked her to be the flower girl and she has been practicing the last month, to don’t mess up her task. The most important one, actually.

For the next two hours, you can’t stop looking at your hand tangled with Angel’s, and the two fresh golden rings in your fingers. To other people they could be just two pieces of jewelry, but for you it’s the purest way to show him your love, your support, and your unconditional trust in him.

And for the next two hours, Angel can’t stop kissing your face all around. Going down with furtive kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your knuckles; not being able to take off from you his other arm around your waist, tightly closed to push you next to him.

Coco and Gilly are in charge of the speech, knowing that it’s going to be more funny than you thought, when they get up from their chairs drunk as fuck after too many shots of tequila. “Yo, mami… you really got the golden dick”. “Man!” Gilly punches him on the shoulder, making him strumble with his own feet and having to grab the other’s jacket to not fall. “I’m speaking the truth! Who was gonna think that he would get the girl to this point, ah?” “Not me”. “Me neither”. “You jealous, ah, motherfuckers?” Angel tosses them a napkin, causing the laugh of everyone around you. “Seriously, girl… How you do it to st—”.

“Enough?” Leti whispers to EZ, sitting by her side. The younger Reyes nods in silence, getting up, making Creeper and Riz a sign to take them off from the center of the yard; between curses in spanish and in some kind of invented language because of the alcohol.

“Hey, brother, I just want to tell you that by far this is the happiest moment of my life. You don’t deserve anything but all the love and the affection, and we all know that only her can give it to you”. You’re starting to think that EZ’s purpose is making Angel cry, because his eyes are being filled up with a bunch of tears now. “Our lives haven’t been easy, you know that… And you have put all the weight on your shoulders since ever, but I’m proud of you. Of who you are. Of calling you my brother. Mi sangre. I don’t desire you anything but happiness, Angel”.

“Yeah, and God bless your patience, sister”. Leti can’t help but add that remark, trying to not laugh when she finds you nodding energetically, before kissing your husband’s tears running down his cheek.

The big toast echoes all around the ranch, in the meantime that the prospects from Yuma and Stockton bring the cake. One of them. That’s the main, a three-story cake of black and white chocolate with your names drawn in red. Canche’s wife has made it for you. She’s an amazing pastry.

And you thought that Angel wouldn’t do it. HE PROMISED YOU ONE HUNDRED TIMES.

But that piece of shit were lying,

Stamping a piece of cake on your face, your husband quickly grabs your wrists to avoid you punch him, or do the same to him. As you sob between chuckles, keeping your eyes closed, Angel licks your lips with the tip of his tongue. “Mi dulce, mi favorito”.

“You promised me…”

“Ah, ah… I promised that I wouldn’t smash YOUR face IN the cake. And I didn't”.

After cleaning yourself and changing the heavy dress for another one that fits your silhouette to the perfection, you are ready to give your husband the last surprise of your wedding.

“Are you takin' me to a dark corner?” “Stop asking, Angel… You'll see”.

At the front yard, a baseball bat and a ball awaits. “What's that, baby?”

“Sh… I throw you the ball, and you hit it, okay?”

So there you are, watching Angel in position as in his old times, when he used to play in highschool.

You throw it.

He hits it.

And in just one second, the distance between you gets caught up by a pink powder, almost staining your clothes.

Angel is in shock. The bat falls from his hand. Eyes widened. Parted lips. His skin bristled, as his cheeks got wet again because of the tears.

“Felicidades, papi”.

He can't stop crying, embracing you with all his strength to his chest. Your husband can't believe anything that is happening today. All he has ever wanted is happening in a sight.

“The day we met, you told me that one day I would be your wife. And I told you that you looked like the father of my future children”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Murder, He Wrote

Part 3 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving, but when you’re being held hostage by Hugh Ransom Drysdale there’s really not a lot to be thankful for, is there?

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.