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You slip quietly out of the bed the following morning not wanting to wake Ransom, who was tossing and turning almost all night. You knew he was full of rage and anger, ready to create a tsunami of pain and destruction. You had coaxed him to sleep with your feather-light touches and soft kisses. He had promised you he’d return the favor in the morning. You had laughed lightly and told him to close his eyes, seconds later Ransom was a cuddly man sleeping soundlessly in your arms.
You turn on the shower water and discard your pajamas before stepping under the hot spray. Your mind mulling over trying to remember you should call Nora and tell her you’re leaving that evening and you need to give her back the envelope. She would keep it safe like she’s been doing since you told her to hang onto it. She had been reluctant to take it but she kept it tucked away at work in her locker.
You begin washing your hair as you also realize you need to inform Ben you’ve told Ransom he knows the voice belongs to Linda and there’s going to be hell to pay the next couple of days. You know Ransom can skirt around the law, Harlan had always informed you of hush-hush deals and the power of bribery and blackmail.
You rinse your hair and wash your body then feel a set of strong hands on your back. You can’t help but smile as Ransom growls before nipping at your shoulders, “You should be sleeping.”
“No,” Ransom playfully remarks as he wraps his hands around you and squeezes your breasts. “I’m getting my fill of you and then some because I don’t know how long my plan will take.” He lets go of one breast and runs a hand down over your stomach and palms your core. He grins as you suck in a breath. “Besides, I promised I’d repay you for last night.”
You moan as Ransom slips a finger in-between your folds and feel his semi-hard cock against the crack of your ass. Your head lolls to the side as he slips in another one and his thumb finds your clit. “Ransom!” you cry out as you squeeze your legs together while he thrusts his fingers in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. When he moves them in, you feel his thick digits curve up and stroke your sweet spot.
“Keep those legs open, Y/N,” Ransom commands. He smiles against your neck as you obey him. He feels you reach back with an arm and run your hand against his hair. He feels your walls tightening around his fingers and begins to move his thumb quickly against your clit. He also uses his fingers on your breast to squeeze it then glide them over your nipple.
Your body is ablaze from Ransom’s touches. Your toes curl as your body tenses against him, feel your orgasm on the brink. “Ransom!” you whimper as he sends your body into a tailspin. White heat erupts from your core as you shudder within Ransom’s arms and pull on his hair. “Ransom,” you pant out, “Ransom…”
Ransom moans, “Mmhmm. That’s right.” Ransom’s teeth nip at your flesh. “I’m ruining you. No one else. Me.”
“Ransom,” you lowly moan as his fingers massage your folds gently. “I want more.”
Ransom chuckles as he squeezes your breast, nips at your pulse point, and flicks your clit simultaneously. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want, my queen.” Ransom repeats the triple actions a few times more, earning him a choral medley of moans and hitched breathes from your agape mouth. He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He moves his strong hands gingerly over your body and places them on your hips. “Look at me.”
You spin in Ransom’s arms. You take in his cocky smirk and piercing blue eyes. You place your hands on his pecs then move them down slowly over his torso. You keep your eyes locked onto his as you wrap one hand around his hardening cock; you feel it twitch as you begin to stroke it. “Maybe I should keep going? Hmmm?” You twist and turn your hand around Ransom’s cock, pumping him teasingly.
Ransom sucks in a sharp breath, already feeling his balls tightening. He remembers how teasingly you stroked him last night, helping him calm down, helping him regain a quiet mind. He was never one for hand jobs, except the ones he gave himself. But last night was something he’d never forget - your mouth on his while your hand was on his cock, you commanded him to keep his hands on you, and when he came and watched you clean him up he thought he’d won the jackpot. He was never letting you go. Even though he had known that since he walked into your life. Mine. All. Mine.
Ransom growls as he sees your eyes glaze over with lust. He captures your mouth hungrily as moves his hands over your ass and hoists you up. He turns around and pins you against the tile wall of the shower. He feels your hand guide his cock between your slick folds.
You pull faintly away and whisper huskily, “Fuck me.”
Without hesitation, Ransom thrusts swiftly into you. He then takes your hands and pins them against the wall. His fingers interlock with yours as his pace increases as he ruts into your pussy. His hips slamming into yours causing your body to move gradually against the walls of the shower. The steady stream of water beats down on Ransom’s back. He begins to feel it cool, and he doesn’t mind. His feverish body is on fire from the ecstasy and pleasure he is experiencing as he gives you what you want.
“Ran–Ran–Ransom,” you heatedly rasp as you feel Ransom’s fingers tighten against yours. His thrusts are hitting your spot just right. Your climax builds rampantly as he pounds his cock in and out, in and out, in a steady, rough rhythm.
“Feel so good,” Ransom moans, “so tight.Fuck! Oh, fuck yes.” His orgasm brews deep in the pit of his stomach. He continues pounding into your slick channel. “Mine,” he growls possessively, “you’re fucking mine!”
“Yes! Ohmy–yes! Yours,” you gasp out as your core begins to constrict around Ransom’s cock. “Keep going!” you cry out. “Ransom. Rannnnsooommm,” you mewl as your hit with a tidal wave of endorphins, which flood your body as your orgasm unravels you, making your body quiver against the shower wall.
Ransom feels your pussy pulse around his cock. For a moment, he feels as though he’s in heaven. His angel showing him he can be saved from the depths of hell as she pulls him from the fire. He feels the jets of his cum shooting up his cock, so he thrusts harshly into you, bottoming out, which causes you to scream out his name in return. He smiles as he empties his seed into your welcoming pussy. A split thought of raising a family with you and seeing your belly swollen flashes through his mind though he doesn’t want to share you with a child, not just yet. He wants to be selfish have you to himself for however long that might be. He growls, “Y/N!”
Your whole body is in seventh heaven. Electricity and gratification pulsating through your veins as Ransom fucked you into oblivion. You squeeze his hands then feel them slowly moving down your arms and across your shoulders. You place your hands on his face and kiss him deeply. You know Ransom Drysdale is a drug; you know you are addicted, know you’re afraid if you withdrawal from him for an extended amount of time you’ll be forever lost, and you know, you already know, you’re overdosing on him which makes you delirious but you don’t mind. You moan against his lips as you loop your arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around your body, his fingers skimming over your flesh. No, you think as you feel like you’re floating on air, I don’t mind at all.
*
Close to noontime, you’re finishing packing a suitcase when Ransom walks into the bedroom. He sits down and looks at you, “I want you to know I have invited the entire family over for dinner at the manor. These family dinners are always a disaster but I’m hoping I can use that to my advantage this time. My family tends to always bring out the worst in each other when we are all in the same room, so my hope is Linda might let something slip if she gets pissed off enough. If it’s one thing I can count on my family for: it’s to piss each other off.”
“You sure about this Ransom?” you inquire, knowing he’s already made his mind up. Ransom pulls you into his lap from his seat on the bed. He doesn’t answer right away, he just studies your features with soft eyes. You search his face as though to try and read his mind, but you would never know what he’s thinking.
“Yes. I will be fine. During dinner I hope to possibly mention the Boston PD has a suspect in mind for the arson which occurred at West Bank Bookshop and gauge how everyone reacts to the news. I have an army of my men who will be at the house if anything gets out of hand.” He pauses, remembering how his mother wanted to help her son in obtaining security detail. He’s fucking glad he had his own men and never took Linda up on her offer. He decides to inform you: “I’ve been working with the detective you dumped.”
You freeze and look at Ransom. You swallow. “What?” You stand from your place on Ransom’s lap. The anxiety of the situation suddenly starts to take over your body’s movements causing you to pace. Your mind starts to race, “Are you paying him? Bribing him?”
Ransom comes to you, holding you in place. His hands rub your arms soothingly, “No. Nothing like that. He said he wanted to help. He’s a good cop. Willing to help you, so I figured who better to work with than him. He’s one of the few not on the Thrombey payroll. I wanted the fucking truth about who was causing you harm. I wasn’t going to trust someone who’s in our back pocket. And I am thankful now because if Linda has any, I am sure she would steer them in the wrong direction.”
You nod your head as you breathe a sigh of relief.
“He called and said he’s gotten some new evidence and wants to share it with me. I told him I could meet him at the manor.”
“Why there? Wouldn’t it be safer here?”
“I don’t want him knowing about this place. He and I are discussing business and I want to do it on my turf. At the manor. I want you there.” Ransom sees the concern in your eyes. “You’ll be okay seeing him?”
“Yes,” you smile weakly in return. Ransom had no idea you went to Ben for help as well.
Ransom gives you a soundly kiss and smiles. “Good. Be ready to go in fifteen.”
You nod your head as Ransom leaves the bedroom. You hastily reach for your phone and send Ben a text – Ransom informed of the voice. Also, please do NOT tell him we met to discuss matters.
You finish packing and close your suitcase when your phone dings.
Ben: Noted. You have nothing to worry about.
*
Ben is escorted into the library after his coat is taken and put away. His eyes take in Ransom and Y/N, standing in the middle of the room. He knows Ransom belongs in this house, yet she doesn’t but seeing her next to Ransom she looks as though she does. One would think they’re a normal couple, but he knows they’re far from it. Ben clears his throat, “You two make quite the couple.”
Ransom turns to face him, a huge smile displayed on his face. He wraps an arm around you, grounding himself and projecting to the other male, you belong to him now. “She’s an amazing woman. Glad she knew who the right choice was.”
“Ransom!” you ground out with a hiss.
He looks at you and winks. He then looks back at Ben, “You said you had some break in the case?”
Ben had been looking at you, noticed your flushed skin and disapproving look in your eyes. He chuckles before averting his eyes from you. He now looks at Ransom, “Yes. An anonymous source told me to check into some city coroners. I talked with a few today and one was able to give me an extremely detailed account about how Linda blackmailed him into giving her supplies.”
“Anonymous source?” Ransom inquires with a cocked brow.
Ben nods his head, “Yes.” Ben tries to come up with a good excuse. “Someone sent us pictures of Linda meeting with a coroner. I checked into it.”
Ransom withdraws his hand from your body and takes a few steps forward, trying to fathom who would be helping him take down his mother. His father? Ransom shakes his head at the mere thought of his dad. Richard would never try to help his son. Richard was too invested in making sure he remained married to Linda because he couldn’t afford to pay up if they ever divorced. “What did you find out?”
Ben looks between you and Ransom. “A coroner at Newton’s M.E.’s office confessed Linda Thrombey-Drysdale blackmailed him with gambling debts and an affair in exchange for medical supplies and drugs. Syringes, chloroform, cyanide, arsenic…”
“Some of those drugs were on the report from the lab work done at the hospital,” you inform the men. “She knew what to use?!”
Ben sighs, “The coroner told her which chemicals to use in order to sedate, which ones to use and how much to use for a lethal dose.”
You begin to pace; your mind wonders to your dream with Harlan. “What was the official cause of death for Harlan?”
“Why?” Ransom questions.
“I need to know. Please tell me.” you beg him.
“Heart attack,” Ransom responds. He walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders. “He had a heart attack.”
You don’t believe that. “There is no way he died of a heart attack. He had his medical problems, yet he never had anything wrong with his heart.”
“Y/N,” Ransom whispers as he wraps his arms around you.
“That’s not true Ransom,” you murmur as you try to keep your tears at bay. “I know it. You know it.” You pause. “I have a feeling someone was behind his death.” You look into the ocean blue eyes you’ve dived deep into. “I had a dream last night. Harlan mentioned ‘she’ when referring to his death. What if it’s Linda?”
Ransom recalls the day he had been informed of Harlan’s death. He had gotten a call from his mother who was sobbing the entire time she was informing him Harlan had passed. Why would she want to get rid of Harlan? Especially if the throne was promised to him, her son.
“I can look into it,” Ben remarks. “Double check the autopsy and see who the coroner was.” Ben would do it for you.
You look at Ben. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ben states. He sees you return your gaze to Ransom, knows it’s time for him to leave. “Anything else I need to know if I’m going to help?”
“I fired Julian Grey last night. He was my business partner at Elysium.” Ransom replies as he moves his blue eyes from your face to Ben’s.
You look at Ransom. He had not divulged that particular detail to you. You wonder if it’s because of the scuffle which had happened the previous day inside of the office at the club.
He pulls you up against him as he keeps his focus on Ben. “He made unwanted advances towards Y/N multiple times and upon further investigation, I discovered he was stealing from the club as well.” He squeezes your side, reaffirming himself you are safe and protected.
“I’m guessing his dead body will turn up eventually?” Ben questions, knowing he shouldn’t even ask it. He already knows the answer.
“He’s not dead. Yet.” Ransom informs the detective.
“Ransom!” you scold him before turning your attention to Ben, “Will you excuse us for just a moment please?”
Ben nods and leaves the library, shutting the door behind him. Once he is out of ear shot you turn your attention back to Ransom, “What was that?! You can’t just admit your intentions to kill someone in front of a cop even if he is helping us.”
“Oh, he’s not going to do anything!” he retorts sharply. Ransom looks at the stern but concerned look on your face and sighs, “Look, I am sorry.” He sits down on the arm of the nearest chair, “It’s just, whenever I think about Julian and the situation he put us in, I get upset. He took from our business, the one we started together and then to top it all off, he makes his moves on you. I thought I could trust him! He stole from me! He touched you! He hurt you!”
You see Ransom unraveling, so you step between his legs and pull his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Ransom breathes in your scent, letting it lull him into a state of peace. After a moment he lifts his gaze to yours. Your thumb traces soft lines across his jaw and bottom lip, “Hugh, listen to me and listen good: I am fine because of you. I am safe because of you. I know this whole situation is something we never saw ourselves in but it happened and letting it completely consume you to the point where you’re not thinking clearly does not benefit either of us in the end. I know everything Julian did was a complete and utter betrayal, I get that, however, he is not our main focus right now. He is an insignificance in the grand scheme of things. Okay?”
“Okay.” Ransom’s voice is soft. He is utterly in awe of you. “How did you get so wise?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Years of dealing with Harlan, I suppose.” You press a soft kiss to his lips but are interrupted by a knock on the door from Ben who pokes his head into the room.
Ben sees the feelings you and Ransom have for one another as he watches the two of you. He had never seen a deep connection between two people who only met weeks ago; knew he’d never have a chance with you ever again because you’re with Ransom Drysdale and he wasn’t going to risk his life to pull you away from, what it looked like to him, the man you loved. All Ben could do and be now, was help you and Ransom, and be a friend to the two of you.
Ben clears his throat, “If there isn’t anything else…”
Ransom looks at Ben, “Actually, there is,” he looks at you, “I need to talk to Ben, alone.”
You raise a brow and look quizzically at Ransom. “Why?”
Ransom stands and kisses your cheek, “Don’t worry, he’s safe with me I promise. I just need to discuss something, man to man, if that’s alright?”
You look between Ransom and Ben, who shrugs and nods in return, then back at Ransom. You nod your head as you kiss Ransom quickly then depart the room.
Ransom watches you leave and walk up the stairs. He turns back around and faces Ben. He walks over to the detective, “I need you to do me a favor.”
Ben raises a brow, “What?”
“Well, first…Y/N is going down to NYC to stay with some friends of mine. The Ferrettis’. She leaves tonight.” He pauses momentarily, his heart sinking in his chest at you leaving Boston, yet he knows it’s for the best, and to keep you safe. “If anything happens to me, you’ll be the one to tell her.”
Ben sighs, remembering Y/N had mentioned Ransom was sending her down to the Big Apple but he didn’t know it was going to be with one of the city’s most infamous mafia families. Yet…Ben isn’t totally shocked. He looks at Ransom, who looks distraught, “You’re Ransom Drysdale. I don’t think anything will happen to you. And I’m sure she’ll be in good hands. They’ll no doubt protect her while you handle matters up here. I think it’s a wise idea. The longer she stays here, the worse her outcome will be if Linda accomplishes her goal.” Ben reaches out and touches Ransom in a kind gesture, “You’re doing what you can, for her.” He withdraws his hand and offers a weak smile. “To the best of your ability. You two will make it through.”
“Well, something happened to Harlan. So, if Linda really wants to take over and be in charge, killing her only child is right within her wheelhouse. If it’s one thing that being a Thrombey has taught me, it’s that nothing will stop us from getting what we want. That’s both our blessing and our curse.”
“I am beginning to understand that. I am assuming if Linda is backed into a corner, things won’t end well.”
“It is safe to assume that which is why I am also getting a few things in order so if something does happen to me, Y/N will be set for the rest of her life.” He was planning to meet with his personal lawyer along with all his men.
“You care about her?”
“I do. I love her. When I am with her, when she is by my side, I am standing with the only army I’ll ever need. I know there are plenty of others, but they work for me. I am their livelihood and she…she is my livelihood. I live for her.” He pauses briefly. “Ever since I walked into her life, my existence has been consumed with her.” Ransom swallows. “She’s my weakness, and my strength. I cannotandwill not lose her.” he murmurs, reaffirming himself he’s doing right by sending the love of his life away.
“One piece of advice then. Don’t die. Because from what I know of her and hearing what you’ve just told me and witnessing the two of you together just now, you’ll break her heart.”
Ransom sighs, “I’ll try my best not to die, and break her heart. Though hopefully not at the same time. Or ever.”
——-
You stand in the attic study, your eyes flooding with tears. Your fingers are running over the spines of books you had given Harlan over the years. All the ones you’ve talked about, the ones that made you question certain things, the ones that made you think, the ones that made you cry. Plenty of time had been spent in this room and in the library downstairs. This place almost felt like a second home. It had been a second home to you.
“You should be here,” you whisper when you walk to his desk and see the computer along with various post-it notes. You pull out the chair, hesitant to sit on it but you do so. Your fingers travel over the cool plastic keyboard. “I need your advice on so many things, Harlan.”
You move your finger against the desk. The wood is cool to the touch and your fingers clear paths in the light layer of dust which has fallen onto the piece of furniture. You raise a brow thinking neither Ransom nor Fran have been inside of this room since Harlan passed. It held too many memories for them as well.
You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to decide and justify a reason to explore the desk’s drawers. Deciding it would be the best to gain knowledge for what is occurring in your life, you begin to open some of them and investigate what’s inside of them - office supplies, pieces of candy, business cards, pads of blank paper, and a manuscript.
You knew Harlan had once joked several times about writing a memoir or even a fictional account of his life.
“I’d changed the names. Of everyone.” He had informed you one warm Summer afternoon. “You could read it! Let me know if you think I could be referring to the Thrombey family!”
You had laughed, “Well, you’d have to publish it under a pseudonym because your family would have a hissy fit whereas I’m sure you’d have a field day if you published something like that under your real name.”
Harlan had rolled his eyes and scoffed, “They aren’t readers! They aren’t into the written word like you and me. They would never know.”
Harlan’s chuckle echoes in your mind as you run a hand over the paper. Fatal Inheritance by Hercule Westing. You recognize the pseudonym instantly - Hercule from the plethora of Agatha Christie novels involving the one and only detective Hercule Poirot, and Westing from the children’s book The Westing Game. You turn the page. For my favorite bibliophile, may you find what you need in these words, as I found liberation in writing them. You are my true family.
You’re lost in a daze of overwhelming emotions as you realize Harlan dedicated this book to you. Harlan had always called you a bibliophile because of the love you had for books and the written word, along with pursuing your dream of opening a bookshop. He had always given you the moniker of ‘my child’ simply because he pictured you as the daughter he always wanted but never had in Linda, and now being called his true family made your heart sink inside of your chest.
You wipe away a few stray tears and sniffle. You were wishing with all your might he was alive and not dead. He would know how to take down Linda and make sure she never harmed you or her son ever again. You push everything aside as you stand, make your way over to the bench and sit. You turn the dedication page of the manuscript; your eyes sweeping over the words of the first chapter and getting hooked on the first sentence: The will reading took place on a thunderous, stormy day and was being held in the grandeur library inside the home of Henry Cassetti.
*
Ransom makes his way upstairs, moseying through the rooms trying to find you. He stops by the stairs leading to Harlan’s room and the attic study beyond it. He knows you’re there and that is where he finds you a few minutes later. Through the door he sees you lounging on the bench his grandfather would sit on to read. Harlan’s voice echoes in his head as he crosses the threshold: “What have I said about leaving me in peace?”
Ransom shakes his head at those words and replies silently: Why aren’t you alive to see what’s going on? He sighs heavily, with a wishful thought of hoping to speak to his grandfather once more and ask him detailed questions about so many things. Yet he knows he cannot, that time has passed.
“You belong here,” Ransom quickly clears his throat, “there. I mean, well, I mean this room suits you or shall I say you bring life into this room.”
Your head pops up from what you’ve been reading. You smile, “I’ve spent plenty of time in this room over the past five years. It’s homely, warm, welcoming. I can’t believe you didn’t change it.” You had noticed the other rooms had been changed when making your way through the house and finally ventured up to the attic study.
Ransom can’t help but think of you as homely, warm, and welcoming in return. It’s why he said you brought life into his grandfather’s favorite room inside of Thrombey manor. He shrugs nonchalantly, “I couldn’t bear to change it. I’ve been up here once, no, twice since he died.” He pauses as he spins around the room slowly, traces some book spines with his fingers. “I thought he had left a ledger up here and instead I found books with your bookshop’s logo stamped in them.” He looks at you, grins. “The best thing I have ever discovered in this room over the course of my years of spending time with Harlan up here.” He walks over to you, leans down, and kisses you softly. “You’re welcome to come here anytime. Though I’d hope you’d be here around the clock. Eventually.”
“Ransom…,” you begin as you cup his cheeks, “planning to lock me away?” You giggle as you see his blue eyes gleam wickedly. You then become serious, “We’ve only been official for…what?” You shrug as you pause, uncertain of how long you and he have been official. You continue, “I mean, you pursued me for close to a month before we went on an actual, real date.”
“You heard me when I told your father you’d be the only woman for me. You have been the only woman since you smacked me. There’s no one else for me; there will be no one else for me. Only you.”
You swallow. “Sounds like you’re proposing.”
Ransom gets down on one knee.
“Ohmygod, Ransom!” you exclaim as you pull him up by his sweater. “No!”
Ransom chuckles then frowns. He does want to marry you, make you his wife. But knows he’d want to go the traditional route and ask your father. He realizes though, Harry would never give his blessing. He takes a seat beside you on the bench. “What’s the matter?”
“Did you just not hear me?” you inquire as you look at him.
“I heard you.” He pulls you up against him. “But did you hear me?”
“Yes. And I also heard ‘eventually’ too.” You reach over and glide your fingers against his clean-shaven cheek. “If you wanna talk about marriage, grow a beard.”
Ransom cocks a brow, “Why a beard?” he asks with a chuckle.
You can’t help but look over his facial features, mapping every curve and sharp line of his face, “I think you’d look very distinguished, and very sexy, almost irresistible. So much so I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” Your fingers ghost against his jaw line imagining the stubble growing thicker.
“Consider this my last day shaving then.” His hand catches yours on his face as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. Moments later when you pull apart, breathless, he nods towards the manuscript in your hands. “What’s that?”
You look down at the words you had been reading. The story was good, no, it was fantastic. You could already tell who everyone within the story was. You swallow, “Something your grandfather was working on. A book. He wanted to try his hand at writing.” You look at Ransom. “May I keep it? Take it with me?”
Ransom nods, “Yes.” He feels your lips against his cheek, a silent thank you. He reaches up, wanting to touch your face and continue his kiss, silently hoping the two of you can have one last time before he must take you to the airport. However, the chime from grandfather clock begins to emanate from the foyer. He knows it’s five o’clock and you have to be on the plane by five-thirty because the family will be here at six for dinner.
You stir in the silence, hoping to have Ransom before he drove you to the airport and you two said your goodbyes, for the time being. You then think of an idea when you hear the clock resound throughout the house. You stand up, “I’ll meet you downstairs so you can take me to the airport.”
Ransom stands, watching you walk away from him with the manuscript in your hands. Yet he can’t help but smile as he saw a wicked gleam in your eyes before leaving him alone. He wonders what you could be up to as he makes his way downstairs to the foyer and patiently waits for you.
——-
After Ransom tells his men he’ll drive you to the airport in the Beamer, because he knows you’re up to something and he wants no other witnesses to it, he puts your suitcase into the trunk then helps you into the passenger seat. He then walks over to the driver’s side and gets in. “Nico’ll meet us at the airport.” He reaches for your hand and squeezes. “We’ll be fine.”
You know Ransom can hold his own. You did see him in action at Elysium the previous day. You wait till he passes the security shed on the mile long driveway to make your move. You casually run a hand up Ransom’s leg. “So, how many girls have you done it with, in this car?”
Ransom glances at you and smirks, “None.” He sees you raise a brow and chuckles. “I’m serious.”
You move your hand to his inner thigh, inching closer towards his groin. “You should pullover.”
“You’ll be late. I’ll be late.”
You lean over and huskily whisper, “Hugh.” You then kiss just below his ear and down the line of his jaw. “Please.”
Ransom swallows. He can’t deny you, and this is the last chance he’ll have you for who knows how long. He pulls the car off to the side of the road and places the Beamer into park. Once he does, you’re straddling his lap and he fuses his mouth to yours. He runs his hands down your back and over your ass, pulling you up against him. He feels your hands travel from his shoulders down his front. He hears you undoing his jeans, feels you pushing them down along with his briefs. He growls against your lips as you wrap your hand around his hard cock.
“Touch me,” you plead as you look into his blue eyes. You feel his hands travel over your bare skin under your dress.
“No underwear?”
You give a sly smile, “I’m glad you decided to drive the Beamer. I figure I should make it easy.” You press a kiss against his plush lips. “I did leave the underwear back at the manor. In your bedroom. A memento.”
Ransom chuckles, “Maybe I should give you something?”
You raise your hips and slowly sink onto his cock. You moan, “You already are.”
“Fuck!” Ransom hisses as he feels your slick channel wrapping around him. His fingers dig into your hips. His blue eyes look at you. “Don’t move.” He lets out a heavy breath. “I wanna feel you wrapped around me.”
You raise a brow then smile, “Way to make us more late. But you are the boss.”
Ransom cups your cheek, “Damn right.” He sucks in a breath when he feels your walls tighten around him. “You are…god…fucking beautiful.”
Your cheeks feel hot, just like your entire body is. You roll your hips gently.
Ransom moans. “What did I say?”
You cheekily smile, “I know what you said. I wanna see how much I’m willing to get away with. Hugh.”
Ransom glides a thumb across your lips, “You’ll get away with plenty of things, gorgeous. You’re already my weakness, my downfall. And yet, you are my salvation.” He pauses. “And I know I am doing the right thing by sending you away.”
You place your hand atop of his own. “You are,” you reassure him sternly. “And I will be waiting for you. No matter how long it takes.” You kiss him softly and smile against his lips. “Now, let me have what’s mine.”
Ransom thrusts his hips, causing you to moan. He grins as you begin to roll your hips. He feels your fingers digging into his shoulders as you mewl and moan endlessly. The sounds filling the small confines of the Beamer along with heat radiating from what is occurring between him and you. He moves his lips along part of your jawline then down your neck. His teeth nip at your pulse point and he inhales your lavender and lily perfume. His fingers dig into your flesh as he feels you tighten around his cock. He moans deeply as he makes sure his thrusts meet the grinding of your hips. “Come for me,” he whispers as he glides his mouth against your neck and dips a finger in between your folds and finds your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Ransom!” you gasp out as his finger grazes your clit. “Yesyesyes! Don’t stop!”
Never. Ransom doesn’t stop with the thrust of his hips or circling your clit. He keeps going in a steady rhythm. He feels your body tense then relax as your body quivers atop of his. A chorus of his name mixed with yeses is music to his ears as he thrusts up, making sure he’s buried deep before he grunts as he empties his spend inside of you.
You ride out your orgasm as you find Ransom’s plush lips. He withdraws his hand from your pussy and wraps it around you as the two of you meet in a frenzied rush of tongues and teeth clinking together. Your hands run against his nape then your fingers card through his soft brown hair.
When you pull away from one another, both of you are gasping for air. Both of your chests heaving as you smile at each other. You didn’t want to leave him but know you must. You swipe a thumb over his swollen lips and smile, “You are mine, Hugh Ransom Drysdale.”
“Yours,” Ransom whispers, knowing his heart belongs to you and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s enthralled by you, lost in you. He’s gone off the deep end drowning, there was no way he was coming up for air, no way he was going to be found. He was stuck forever, and he didn’t mind. Nothing would ever come between him and his queen; and he was going to make damn sure it would remain that way for the rest of life, once Linda and the family was shown he’s in charge, he’s the boss, he’s the king.
*
Ten minutes later, Ransom speedily drives over to the waiting private plane on the tarmac. He parks the Beamer, climbs out then jogs over to the passenger door. He helps you out then moves to the trunk to get your suitcase.
“You’re late,” Nico remarks as he steps forward.
Ransom hands Nico the suitcase, “I know. Take it up with the boss.” He nods in your direction causing you to smother the chuckle that was threatening to escape your lips.
Nico looks between the two of you and shakes his head. “Yes, sir.” he replies with a smile as he takes the suitcase then walks towards the plane and waits.
Ransom smirks, “Good.” He walks back to you, seeing the afterglow of the impromptu car sex making you beam brightly, and embraces you in a tight, warm enveloping hug. “I will come and get you once I’ve taken care of her.” He feels you nod in response as your arms wrap tightly around him. He savors this caring moment between the two of you. He pulls faintly away and looks at you, looks into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”
Your heart flutters. Not sure if it’s because of your growing feelings or the thought of being miles away from him. After all, doesn’t absence make the heart grow fonder? You cup his cheek, stroke his skin with your thumb. A lone tear runs down yours. “Take care of my Hugh.”
He wipes at your tear. “I will.” He sweeps your mouth in a fleeting kiss but feels the tug of your hands on his jacket lapels which brings his mouth back onto yours.
Minutes later you are walking up the stairs and boarding the plane. You don’t glance back at the man you’re slowly falling in love with because if you do, you will want to stay. And if you stay, you know you will not be walking the earth for long because of the enemy within Ransom’s own family.
——-
Ransom looks around the table as the family begins passing plates of food to one another. He never thought any of them would go after what’s rightfully his, he never thought any of them would have the spine, honestly. That’s why he was always the natural choice to take over once Harlan passed. However, someone has been trying to usurp him and it turns out to be his own mother, of all people.
He wonders if any of them know of her plans, knows she wants the throne for herself. He thinks for a moment that maybe they are helping each other to overthrow him but then he realizes this is his family he is talking about and they are all too self-absorbed to unite for any common cause. So, his suspicions lay solely on his mother. Ransom sighs heavily as he takes a sip of alcohol. He needs to get every single person talking instead of silently gazing at one another. Ransom clears his throat, “Someone please talk. I can’t bear this silence.”
“Talk about what?” Joni inquires.
“Anything,” Ransom sighs. “I know we haven’t gotten together in a few weeks,” he shrugs, “but business does take precedence.”
The table collectively rolls their eyes causing Walt to remark, “Why would you even care, Ransom? It’s not like you enjoy us being here. You’re only doing these dinners to keep dad’s memory alive.”
“We are family, Walt,” Linda defensively states as she looks at her younger brother. “Give him somecredit.”
Walt scoffs, “He’s been preoccupied these last weeks doing god knows what! And you know it. Every time I call, he says he’s too busy or tells me to handle it on my own!”
“Because you’re a grown ass man!” Linda exclaims. “You shouldn’t need a babysitter. It’s not our fault you run with the wrong crowd!”
“A babysitter?! Well, I am so sorry we can’t all be perfect like you Linda! You always prided yourself in being dad’s favorite, don’t deny it! That’s why your son became the head of this family and not me!” Walt shouts.
“Walt!” Donna hisses as she glances at him. “That’s enough.”
“For once, I agree with Donna. You know as well as we all do you were never considered to take over Walt. You lack what is affectionately called, a spine.” Joni retorts.
The table collectively smothers a chuckle while Ransom takes a healthy drink of his wine.
“You want a spine? I will show you a spine!” Walt roars as he goes to stand from his chair waving his cane in his hand.
Ransom slams his fist onto the table causing all the dishware to clatter and clink, “Enough. Walt, sit the hell down. I won’t tell you again.” His voice is stern and cold.
Once Walt clears his throat and sits down, Richard looks to his son, “Why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to son? I mean, we are family, as your mother said. You should shed some light on the family business.”
Ransom shrugs, “Everything’s fine. There’s been a few,” Ransom pauses trying to find the best way to put things in perspective without giving too much away, “bumps in the road. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Care to let us in? Maybe we can help.” Richard offers before he takes a bite of food.
“If it pertains to family, we have a right to know,” Linda irritatingly remarks. She needs him to confess, to reveal to the family he’s with someone so she can get them all on her side. If the family thinks some harlot gold digger is going to compromise their cushy lifestyles, then they can all unite over a common cause for once in their miserable lives. “I mean, it’s the ‘family business’ after all, you shouldn’t leave us in the dark, like dad did. I’m sure talking about it would help. Dad never liked talking about it, and I am sure all the stress that comes with those secrets contributed to his heart attack. Please, my son, let us help you.” Linda tries to play the caring and concerned mother. Her tone may be gentle and give off a genuine vibe, but there’s one thing Linda isn’t aware of, Ransom knows she is absolutely full of shit.
Ransom stands from his place at the head of the table and goes to the wet bar off to the side to pour a healthy glass of whiskey. He needs something stronger to wash down the bile rising in his throat. His mother’s warmhearted words are spoken by a forked tongue and it’s making him sick. He briefly wonders if his mother has been like this his entire life or just recently since he came into power, but being the smart man he is, he knows the latter is the real answer. He turns his attention back to the table where his family’s looking at him, eager to know what’s going on.
Reclaiming his rightful seat at the head of the table, he sips his whiskey and begins, “There was a fire at one of our businesses in Weston. An intentionally set fire, which the fire department has ruled as arson.” His eyes land on Linda for a few seconds. “I’ve been informed the Boston PD have a suspect in mind.” Ransom continues moving his eyes around the table, absorbing everyone’s blank reactions.
Linda sips her wine as if nothing is wrong but the grip on her wine glass is firm and tight. Should she grip it any tighter, it would easily shatter in her hand. “Is that right?” she asks completely emotionless, using all the will power she has in her not to give anything away. There was no way the Boston PD had a suspect. No fucking way. She made sure her hands were clean of everything before she walked into West Bank Bookshop, drugged that whore, and set the place on fire. “If they have a suspect, why not arrest them?” she questions before taking a bite of food to settle her nerves. She shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions; she knows the cops in her back pocket would never lay a finger on her.
Ransom notes she doesn’t ask about which business. He cocks a brow, “They want to make sure all the boxes are checked before they make their move.”
“How much money are we losing?” Walt asks.
“That’s your first question?” Ransom retorts. “Someone lost their livelihood in our town. In our town, which has been quiet for years! And all you are concerned about is how much money we are losing?” He pauses. “You don’t even care about the human element of it all. This is a person whose business, their pride and joy, went up in smoke and your first thought is about money. Christ, it’s no wonder I was the only choice to take over. I mean look at yourselves, each and every one of you is more selfish than the next. I know none of you want me here…” His finger circles the table, calling all of those who sat at it, out.
Everyone starts talking at once. “That’s not true!” “I never said anything like that.” “Nonsense.” “You deserve it, son!” “I’m glad you’re in charge.” “Harlan wanted you!” “I trust you.”
Ransom sighs, “And you are all full of shit.”
“Ransom!” Linda exclaims. “I know we are family, and we have our issues, but Harlan wanted you to take over! He told me himself.”
“Son, your mother’s right–”
“God, father! Please stop calling me by that. Everyone in a fucking hundred-mile radius knows I am your son!” Ransom yells angrily.
Richard cowers in his chair and takes a drink of wine. He knows when he’s been silenced and shall remain silent.
Walt chuckles, “Dad never said anything to me! You know him and I were close, but I apparently could never be as cherished as the only daughter and firstborn of Harlan Thrombey like you Linda!”
Linda rolls her eyes, “Oh please Walt, you were only close because you were begging him for money every other week.” She nods her head towards Donna. “And I’m sure your wife wasn’t going to give you any of her money. Me being the favorite had nothing to do with it.”
Walt sneers at his sister. “Aha! So, you admit it then. You are the favorite. Of course, always in dad’s ear. No doubt about convincing him Ransom needs to be in the seat of power once he retired! But then he up and had a heart attack, so yet again Linda comes out on top!”
“Well,my son earned it! Him and Harlan were close, closer than he and that Nazi brat of yours ever was!” Linda argues. “There was no way in hell I was going to let the inferiorrule our kingdom!”
“Seriously you two? Will you ever stop? This is getting to be pathetic,” Joni remarks loudly. “Bicker after dinner. This is to be family time, not fighting time.”
Walt sneers as he takes a drink of wine. Linda sighs heavily and straightens her glasses. Everyone isn’t in utter shock; they know how these dinners can pan out when people get into a sparring match with one another. There was never a dull moment with the members of the Thrombey family when they got under one roof.
Minutes pass by in silence as people eat at their food, drink at their alcoholic beverage or water. Ransom feels the tension in the room, knows there is only one person out to get him though she tries to have his back the best she can.
“This silence is a little too much,” Donna remarks on Ransom’s previous call for conversation earlier. “I know we all have businesses and jobs, some of us do. How are they thriving? How is work?”
Linda gloats. “Real estate business is booming. As always.”
Donna smiles, “That’s great!” She looks around the table. “Joni? Meg? Ransom, how are your other business ventures?”
“I’m in need of a new co-manager for Elysium.” Ransom replies without thinking, before taking a bite of food.
“What? Why?” Linda questions too quickly and sharply. She takes a drink of wine, trying to hide her impatience.
Ransom pops his head up as he grins, “I fired Julian. He disrespected me, he was embezzling club funds into his own accounts, as well as having his fingers in god knows what else-”
At this news, Linda chokes on her wine which makes Meg snort and cough, trying not to spit out the water she had drank prior to Ransom’s information. She sets the glass down and glances between Ransom and Linda. This is going to be interesting.
Ransom cocks a brow, “What’s so funny Meg?”
She shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry.” She dabs her mouth with the napkin in her lap.
“You obviouslyknow something,” Ransom remarks as he temples his fingers. “Why don’t you share?” He sees Meg shy away and smiles.
Meg clears her throat, “It’s just, I, uh, I—” She eyes Linda expectantly trying to decide if she should reveal what she knew or not. Whose wrath would be worse to endure? Linda’s or Ransom’s?
“Spit it out girl!” Linda yells.
“Linda!” Joni retorts. “No need to yell at my daughter!”
Linda takes another sip of wine, trying to calm her nerves. “Either she has something to say or she doesn’t. So out with it, we don’t have all night!”
Joni’s glare at Linda is red hot, everyone can tell the widowed woman is annoyed by her sister-in-law. Joni pulls her daughter close and rubs Meg’s arm, “Ignore her sweetie, it’s okay. Go on, say what you want to say.”
Meg smiles weakly at her mother then looks down the table at Ransom. She holds her chin high, “Linda and Julian are having an affair.”
“Excuse me? What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? You have no proof—” Linda hisses.
“I do too!” Meg shouts, looking at Linda. “I work at Rare Steakhouse down at Encore Boston Harbor. I’ve seen you and Julian having dinner there a few times. You and he all dressed up, acting like horny teenagers. Frankly it’s disgusting to see up close.” Meg grimaces at having seen the couple sneak off one night after dinner only to find them fucking in the coat room.
Linda immediately stands and points an accusatory finger at Meg, “How dare you!” Linda straightens her clothes. “I mean, you don’t even know who Julian is!”
Meg scoffs, “He’s hit on some of the waitresses, given them his business card. Including me, even though I never had your table! I always asked another person to take yours and his table.”
Walt claps his hands together, delighted at this revelation, “Oh how the mighty have fallen! We all knew Richard couldn’t keep it in his pants, Linda. Come on!” He chuckles, “And with your son’s best friend and business partner! You should be ashamed.”
Linda rolls her eyes, “Shut up Walt!”
Ransom bores his eyes into Meg as he leans forward. He had no clue his mother and Julian were even acquaintances; had no idea they had ever met because he never perceived either of them would like the other. “How often is ‘a few times’?”
Meg looks at Ransom and shrugs, “Uh, maybe…I don’t know a handful or two since I started work there a year ago. I only work a couple of nights a week because of school.”
Ransom looks at his mother. “Tell me the truth, mother. Are you seeing Julian?”
Linda’s heart pounds wildly inside of her chest. She can’t hide away from this, can’t hide away from her son’s angry stare. She grabs her glass of wine and takes a drink. “Yes,” she chokes out, “Julian and I…are…we are seeing one another.”
Ransom leans back in his chair as his fist comes to cover his mouth. Julian was going to be a wealth of information when he confronted the battered and bruised man once more. After the events at Elysium, he made sure Julian was kept someplace locked away where only Ransom had the key to, in an abandoned warehouse, restrained and gagged.
The silence and tension in the room was palpable. Everyone glances at one another as well as looking between Ransom and Linda, who are in a staring contest. People are afraid to move, to speak. Because they know if they do, Ransom Drysdale might erupt and the outcome would be devastating, even if the fallout wasn’t harsh as everyone thinks it will be.
“What the fuckiswrong with you?” Ransom questions angrily as he stares down the long table at his mother. He raises a hand to stop her from letting a word out of her agape mouth, “You know what? I don’t wanna fucking hear it.” Ransom pushes back his chair, causing it to scrape against the hardwood floor. “Julian was my friend! My business partner! You had to fuck it up! Like you’ve been fucking everything up since the day I slid out of you.” he accuses harshly, eager to see if she reacts.
“Ransom! I am your mother, you do not speak to me that way!” she tries to assert her dominance over her son, standing square straight.
Ransom can’t help but let out a scoff, “You are no mother of mine, you just happened to be the woman that carried me for nine months. Frankly, that is the only good thing you have done with your life: gave birth to me. Now-” He points towards the front of the house. “get the fuck out of my house!”
Everyone’s in a state of shock as they stare at Linda. She’s defeated, but only this once. She will make sure of it. No one embarrasses Linda Thrombey like that and gets away with it, not even her own son, the ungrateful bastard that he is. She pushes her glasses up then straightens her clothes as she walks away from the table.
Linda Thrombey-Drysdale marches out into the evening Spring air. The slight chill causes her to shiver as she walks to her car. “I am a Thrombey, goddamn it!” she utters with anger as she climbs into her Patagonia Red metallic colored Mercedes Benz E-Class Coupe. She taps the Bluetooth button as she begins to drive. Julian doesn’t answer, which causes her to end the call. She screams into the silence then declares: “That little prick thinks he can treat me this way? After everything I have done for him, all the sacrifices I have made? I don’t care if I have to kill him myself, he’s not getting away with this. I will get what I am owed, that throne is mine.”
A/N: Here is your reward for enduring last week lmao. This one is a bit long, but cutting it up just didn’t seem as gratifying so I hope you guys enjoy.
Also, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on AO3 and FFN– you guys are too kind :’). I’ll try posting more regularly on Tumblr too if ppl wanna read it here. Let me know what y'all think~
There was darkness, then flickers of lights and the occasional overwhelming flow of noises before it ebbed to silence and darkness yet again. First, she felt she was on a hard surface like concrete, then cold metal, then something cushion-like… a bed? Her thoughts were incoherent, presenting more as disjointed words and feelings. Anger, regret, hurt, with a sprinkle of sadness on top. Her body was heavy, every limb feeling as though the blood had been replaced with lead. Her head lolled and she heard someone suddenly shift at her side, the bed dipping under the pressure of said someone leaning on it and over her but was too out of it to open her eyes. Acquiescing, she fell back into unconsciousness.
An indefinite amount of time passed while she was in the darkness before her senses began to return fully. She heard typing, now able to feel a presence nearby. She wanted to open her eyes, but the task seemed too daunting still, simply listening would have to be enough for now.
“I can stand watch for now, if you’d like.” One voice offered, softly.
“What I’d like is to be left alone.” The other replied curtly.
“I see. We’re going to leave in the next few hours, I’ll get everyone ready.”
“You do that.”
Well this guy sounds like a treat… Nanami thought, her sarcasm unsurprisingly returning before the rest of her senses and memories. There were footsteps and then a soft thud, like a door being carefully shut. A couple moments passed before she heard what sounded like a laptop being closed, then footsteps coming towards her, and then silence. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body refused to cooperate, causing her eyes to flutter behind her eyelids as she struggled in vain to move. She could sense the presence hadn’t left and she felt anxious as to what might happen next before hearing a sigh. She felt a sheet being pulled up to cover her arms, where goosebumps had been forming from the draft in wherever she was.
“I’ll deal with you when I get back.” The voice said with a hint of annoyance, though it was betrayed by its gentle tone. Hearing footsteps growing fainter, a door opened and closed once more. The words themselves were threatening but the way they were spoken, she felt oddly comforted. Falling back into the darkness, she decided to cultivate her energy and try her luck at waking up again later.
Emerging from the darkness again, the pain began immediately. Her head throbbed and she reflexively tried to groan but found her mouth and throat painfully full. Instantly recognizing the feeling, panic set in, the only other thing she could perceive being the desperate need for it to stop. She grabbed the tube, disassembling and reassembling it outside her body. The large obstruction dropped unceremoniously to the floor and she coughed, glad to be rid of it.
“Don’t be so rough with the equipment.”
She rolled her head to the direction of the voice, a bright light hitting her eyes as she struggled to open them for the first time since… Damn. It all came rushing back to her at once, the voice no longer a mystery. Her vision focused and she found herself looking at Overhaul as he sat at her bedside. His mask was on as he stared at her blankly. She stared back for a beat, not knowing how to begin speaking about what brought them to this point. Deciding she should be fully awake and rested for that conversation, she mentally tabled it, opting for their usual banter instead.
“It’s still intact isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, massaging it as she continued, “How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
“THREE DAYS?” Her eyes shot wide, another coughing fit beginning as she raised her voice after not speaking for days.
“Yes, that’s what I said.” He grimaced, moving back a bit at her sudden outburst, “Cough in the other direction.”
“No surprise that your bedside manner could use some work.” She sighed as she adjusted to raise herself up, wincing as her sore muscles tried their best to comply. He promptly rose, putting a pillow behind her as she sat up, his expression blank yet attentive, “Thanks.”
He nodded as he took his seat again and the silence continued, painfully. It felt like their first meeting all over again, neither knowing how to broach the awkward topic. Looking back, Nanami was angry at how insufferably rude he could be but couldn’t ignore her own part in this. A pang of guilt sat heavily in her chest when she remembered how easily she let her emotions get the best of her; she hadn’t told someone off like that in ages. In her mind, it in no way absolved him, but to say it was all his fault would be a lie. In that moment of rage, she… What did I do anyway? She glanced down, now more confused than anything, her brows furrowing before looking at him.
“Let’s chat.”
He readjusted in his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest, “Let’s.”
His body language oozed condescension as though she was about to be scolded like a child and she hated it, “Why’d you attack me. Again.”
His eyes narrowed, displeased with how she was beginning their talk,” That was going to be my question to you. I thought we had a deal.”
“What are you talking about? We did—we do—I did not attack you.” she defended. Nanami knew they were both wrong for getting so worked up, but she wouldn’t stoop that low over an argument. “I was wrong, we both were for getting so heated, but I wouldn’t just start throwing hands like that. So again, why did you attack me? I thought… I thought we got passed all that.”
His brow furrowed at the implication, his jaw clenching uncomfortably at the hurt in her voice, “We are. We’re far passed all of that.” He intoned with a level of sincerity that seemed foreign to him. Having spent the past three days chastising himself for putting her in this position, wishing the exchange could be taken back, it was difficult to sound detached. He’d been angry, but harming her had been something he’d put out of his mind some time ago, “I didn’t attack you either…”
They both shared a moment of sincere confusion. Overhaul hadn’t come out unscathed either, having to heal his own head injury as well as a cracked vertebra from the impact once he came to. “Then what the hell happened?” Nanami asked, speaking the question they were both wrestling with. She looked around the room for her bag at the same time Overhaul reached for his laptop.
“We should run tests.” They said in unison. He handed her her notebook from the bag and a pen as they began noting exactly what happened leading up to the explosion. As she recalled the events, there were a number of theories that came to mind, as well as ideas on how to safely perform reenactments of what transpired, but she also remembered the argument beforehand. He was somehow even more quiet than usual, and she could tell his gears were turning that morning, but the hostility seemed so out of the blue. Putting down her pen, he glanced up at her, noticing the sound of her writing had stopped and she was staring down thoughtfully.
“Did you think of something?”
“…Yeah. I did. Why’d you pick a fight with me that day?”
He looked back down at his keyboard and continued typing, “I don’t know what you mean. That little tiff was a joint effort.”
“No, no, no. It may have ended up that way, but you blew up at me after an entire week of solid teamwork. I expect the snide comments and the general air of grumpiness, but that was different… What happened?” He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She didn’t look angry, just hurt.
Taken aback, all he could manage was “… I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that “emotion” nor did he have any plans to discuss feelings. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he did it himself. Perhaps it was self-sabotage and he was pushing her away, but to accept that would mean acknowledging they had gotten close; that he had, at some point, made the subconscious decision to stop viewing her as a pawn or even just a colleague, and to indulge the need for far more than their formal arrangement. He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the possible loss of his objectivity when it came to whatever went on between them, but he knew he’d have to confront the undercurrents of their relationship at some point. Right now, they had discovered a possible breakthrough in their research and there was no room for delay. With a ghost of a plan in mind for how to move forward with Nanami, he decided it would be more logical to smooth things over in the immediate moment with Dr. Watanabe; separating the two identities giving him the illusion of control. He continued” But I do know it won’t happen again. That was…unprofessional. How is your head?”
She bit her lip and exhaled, seeing the switch flick in his eyes knowing the wall had been put back up. “It’s… it’s fine. Just a little—no, really sore.” She confirmed with herself, rubbing her hand over the source of the pain to find stiches. Why wouldn’t he just overhaul this? “So, you decided to fix this the old-fashioned way, huh? The stitchwork is impeccable, but why go through the trouble? You could have just—”
“I didn’t want to touch you.”
“… Ouch.” She winced, glancing away as the abrupt response hurt a bit more than she expected.
Realizing it hadn’t been received how he planned, he clarified,” I meant I…didn’t want to use it on you. I was under the impression we had somehow attacked each other and assumed you might not find the prospect of me handling you in that way all that appealing.”
“…Oh. Well, thank you… I don’t mind if you touch me now” he rose a brow at this, “—I mean like to heal or—Oh you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms and continuing, “Just… just do it, please.” The last word tacked on with a mumble.
Letting out an amused breath, he rose, motioning her to turn so her back faced him as he removed his gloves. She quickly brushed her hair to the side, missing a few strands. She tensed as he was much closer than she was prepared for, feeling the warmth of his hands against the nape of her neck as he gently gathered the stray hairs and handed them to her to gather in front. Smoothing down the part, he leisurely ran his hands through her hair, losing himself for a second before noticing the tops of her ears had reddened and her breath had quickened at his ministrations. Refocusing, he disassembled the stitches before immediately healing the wound knowing even a millisecond of delay would prove very painful. “Done.”
Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she felt normal again and ready to get out of bed as her muscles had been unused for the better part of three days. Checking the time on her phone on the nightstand she saw it was only 6 am, “So, you wanna go for a run?”
“That’s not funny.”
“Fine, fine. But on a serious note, I think we should head to the lab. I know the deal was 2 weeks bu—”
“You don’t have to bargain. Get cleaned up, I’ll start preparations for testing tomorrow.”
She turned to him, brows raised in surprise, “Well okay then. I’ll see you back at the house.”
“See you there.” He said before exiting her room, shutting the door softly.
After a thorough scrubbing and stretching, she felt ready to get back to her remaining paperwork, putting on her favorite chunky turtleneck and sweatpants effectively pulling off the lazy-but-still-fashionable look. Brewing herself a cup of tea and pulling out her workbag, she thought it best to not dwell on all the Feels ™ that had continuously threatened to surface, which was undoubtedly exacerbated by their current living situation.
She was woman enough to admit she stared just a little too long, smiled just a bit too enthusiastically, and was way too excited by even the smallest bits of physical contact with him… But it’s just a crush. She lied to herself as though he hadn’t been the most intellectually stimulating person she’d had the pleasure of talking to. As though she’d ever felt silence more comfortable than their time in the lab or simply sharing meals together. As though— Girl if you don’t concentrate… She chastised herself before attempting to neatly compartmentalize her feelings, refusing to acknowledge just how much more difficult keeping them in check had become. It’s just because you’re all up under each other, it’ll pass.
Refocusing on the task at hand, she opened her laptop and pulled out a well-worn file folder, her gaze turning somber as her fingers traced the bend of it; evidence of the many nights she’d revisited it only to close it when the answers didn’t come. In the past month she’d taken on a patient who seemingly had nowhere to go. Many of her colleagues had turned him away, seemingly too jaded to go through the trouble of dealing with such a case. Nanami herself was puzzled when she reviewed his file, but she knew there was no other option; she had to at least try.
Kenta was a very jovial, large person with a personality to match. Built much like a strongman with tusks not unlike a walrus, he was hard to miss. Before he became her patient, she’d see him making small talk with the other patients, encouraging them though he himself was on the way to chemotherapy, his weight dwindling by the day. The previous doctors told him that he had osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. It was seemingly exacerbated by his quirk that gave him dense bones; they were perfect for diving, but apparently came at this very high price. The treatment had shown mild success, but her predecessors had decided his condition was becoming too advanced and an amputation was in order. After that visit, he attempted to keep his jovial nature, but his physical appearance continued to deteriorate, the medication and tests taking their toll. Full-hardy laughs were interrupted by coughing fits, round cheeks flexed into a habitual smile were replaced with gaunt hollows. Nanami couldn’t help but feel was cruel to be given such great power and still be unable to solve this problem.
She agonized, sincerely perplexed as to why someone as healthy and active as Kenta could have developed such an aggressive and rare form of cancer so quickly. It didn’t helped that after the first doctor’s diagnosis, the subsequent three doctors took little to no efforts to confirm said diagnosis, so she remained thoroughly unconvinced. She was a prodigy in her own right, but that alone couldn’t negate seniority. To go against the other doctors, she would need substantial proof of her theory—and also a theory to begin with.
Nanami was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of the silo being activated, as Overhaul stepped out. It had been hours since she had last gotten up as day turned into late night, too engrossed in her task. She glanced up for a moment, giving an absent-minded “hey” before returning to her work. It was unlike her to brush him off so quickly, and he assumed there were still hard feelings from earlier. Approaching her, he was about to speak before he caught a glimpse of her screen and notes, the file folder and its contents now haphazardly splayed on the coffee table, a few with drops of moisture on them.
“Didn’t I tell you no drinking in the living roo—” he stopped short, hearing a small sniffle escape her, before she attempted to cover it up by clearing her throat.
“Sorry, yeah, no drinking in the living room.” She laughed emptily, gathering the papers that were stained.
Seeing people cry was usually… uninspiring to him, to say the least; he couldn’t understand it, the need for such dramatic displays as an adult. But he found himself making exceptions more and more; she wasn’t one to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum—at least not seriously. Her tears were stifled, indignant, and his curiosity—yes, we’ll call it “curiosity”— got the better of him.
“What are you doing? Crying?”
“No!… Maybe.” She stubbornly corrected, further averting her gaze, hoping to use her hair as a curtain to obscure her face. Pausing for a beat, his attention turned to what he presumed was the source. He read over it as she attempted to fix her face. His brow furrowed, and Nanami turned back to see what he was doing. “Why do you care?”
“Osteosarcoma seems like an odd diagnosis for someone with his age and history.” He noted, choosing not to answer her question.
“That’s what I said!” she instinctually replied before remembering herself, “I mean quit snooping, this is patient-doctor information. It’s illegal to share.”
“Yet you brought it outside your office, to a yakuza base.” He deadpanned, pointing out the hypocrisy, taking a seat next to her on the couch. She pursed her lips, continuing to mull over theories, assuming he’d get bored and leave her be. “If not osteosarcoma, what do you think it could be?”
Knowing discretion was one of his strong suits, she decided to humor him. “I’m not sure. The tumor grew extremely fast and they began chemo almost immediately, so I didn’t get the benefit of a fresh diagnosis. He’d been perfectly healthy otherwise and his line of work kept him pretty active.”
“What’s his occupation?”
“He’s a commercial diver, it’s pretty fitting since his quirk gives him a lot of walrus-like qualities.”
“Sounds hazardous.”
“You’re one to talk. He’s practically made for it so drowning or being crushed under the pressure is near-impossible for him.”
“I was referring to all of the equipment. The fact that he’s kept all of his limbs up to this point is impressive.”
Slowly turning to him, a tired look on her face, she replied “… Your compliments are so very strange.”
Shrugging he continued, “It’s not that odd. The number of divers and sailors I’ve seen at port with mutilated legs is not small.”
Nanami was mid eye-roll when an epiphany struck her. Her eyes went wide, and she began frantically rummaging through the paperwork. “Shit– wait, online!” grabbing her laptop, she began typing in a frenzy as Overhaul watched calmly. Finding Kenta’s online records in the hospital database, she read a file from a month before his diagnosis stating he had been in a diving accident that severely fractured his leg where his tumor now was. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, “MO. It’s fucking Myositis Ossificans! This explains why the ‘tumor’ grew so quickly. It’s because it wasn’t even really a tumor, just his body’s response to a traumatic injury– This is amazing!"
He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, as she practically wiggled in genuine excitement. “That diagnosis sounds much more appropriate.”
Facing him on the couch, she reflexively grabbed him by his shoulders, lost in excitement, before realizing what she was doing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab you like that,” she hurriedly removed her hands before he waved it off. “It’s just… I’ve been poring over this since I got this case but hadn’t thought to make that connection since he never mentioned the injury.” Thinking back for a moment, it dawned on her, “… how did you know to ask?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
Smiling, he rose, walking to the kitchen, “Would you like a cup?”
Very aware he was evading her question, she rolled her eyes smiling in kind “Sure. Of what?” She wrote down her final notes before putting away the files, tucking them and her laptop away as she waited for an answer.
Bringing over two cups of sake and the bottle, he sat next her with his own before sliding over her cup. She gave him a look and he sighed, “Consider it your reward for your work today. But don’t get used to it, my living room consumption rule still stands.”
She raised her hands in surrender, chuckling before taking a sip. “Oh! Let’s play a game.”
His brows furrowed as he continued to face forward still enjoying his drink,” Do I seem like a man who plays games?”
“Well, judging by the shogi board, I’d say yes.”
“… Just set the board.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before starting the odd conversation, chatting and playing until they were on their fourth cup. Nanami was admittedly tipsy by this point and decided to ask something that had been on her mind for a while now with the aid of her liquid courage. If ever there was an opportunity, it was now, “Hey, why didn’t you ever become a doctor?” The question caught him off guard as he stopped drinking and peered off into the distance thoughtfully. His lips parting for a moment to speak before closing again to consider his answer.
“It would be difficult to treat people you can’t touch.”
“Hm… sounds like a copout. I wear gloves on the job at least 80% of the time and a lot of the non-surgical work that requires touching could easily be done by a nurse. So, what’s the real reason?”
“Well, you’re awfully bold tonight.”
“Eh, it’s your fault anyway,” she reminded him, toying with the sake glass. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”
He considered her for a second before answering, “Win this game and I’ll tell you.”
“Easy.” She shot back before considering another outcome, “and what if I lose?”
He smiled easily, her stomach flipping as a glint of mischief was evident in his eyes, “Just try your best to win.”
Nanami was determined, or at least she convinced herself she was, not wanting to confront her curiosity at what he would do if she lost … or what he would do to me… Ok, let me put down this sake before I get a life sentence to horny jail. Recomposing herself a bit, she observed the board, stifling a smirk when she saw her path to victory. It was a moderately long game, but the outcome was in her favor as she took his king. Raising the piece betwixt her fingers, she smirked, “Now spill the beans.”
He stared into the proverbial abyss, slightly peeved at the loss, priding himself as a more-than proficient player before tonight. “Give me a moment.” He said casually raising a finger as he cleared his throat. Taking a measured sip from his cup before locking eyes with her, “I have a duty.” Nanami shot him an unsatisfactory look before he clarified, continuing, “Pops took me in when I had nothing to offer. This,” he began as he leered at his hands, recalling the destruction they regularly wrought, “is what I was meant to become in order to repay him. Bringing the yakuza back to their former glory and carrying on his legacy are my primary objectives. My time is limited since he’s not as young as he used to be. The years of schooling it would take to reap the benefits he deserves would prove much too long. Indulging in a dream like that is not in my nature, even if I did have the time. That is why.”
Her smile dulled as she processed his response. She wasn’t self-righteous enough to impose her own ideals on him, but it seemed like such a waste. His leading questions tonight were just one of many examples of his expertise. Even without the formal schooling he had a level of mastery that could easily earn him a degree, and coupled with his research skills, he could do a world of good. But instead here he was, content with just the opportunity to pay his debts. For someone so arrogant, he thought surprisingly little of his own nature. Maybe someday someone could convince him he didn’t have to carry around this weight all the time. Still very tipsy, she responded,” Well, if it’s a dream of yours to begin with, your nature can’t be all that bad now can it?” At this he knitted his brows, trying to accept the possibility. Seeing his hesitation, she continued, “You can do both, you know. Give yourself some more credit, bird brain.” She slurred the last insult, finishing her sake off with a gulp, not wanting to sound too soft. Feeling the consequences of her actions, she swayed sleepily in her seat before closing her eyes.
The next thing she knew, she felt herself being nudged awake, “Come on, get up. You need to get into bed.”
“But it’s sooo comfy here. Why are you being such a buzzkill, Kai?” she whined as he grasped her forearms, encouraging her to rise from her seat.
Stopping in his tracks, he asked a bit taken aback, “Where did you hear that name?”
“Your Poppy Pops told me” She almost sang, a grin plastered on her face.
“…Do not ever use the phrase ‘Poppy Pops’ again. Also, if couches were meant for sleeping, beds wouldn’t exist.” He responded irritated, though he handled her like porcelain, still remembering how unpleasant the last three days had been. Guiding Nanami to her room, he finally got her to lay down after tuning out a slew of other ridiculous nickname proposals, the drowsiness setting in as soon as her head hit the pillow. Knowing it would be too much work convincing a now drunk Nanami to get under the covers, he begrudgingly put a spare blanket over her. Before leaving, he looked back at her sleepy form. As much as they could grate each other’s nerves, no one had ever thought to encourage him or challenge his own thinking besides his father. He had never been a warm or sentimental person, having to try thrice as hard to grasp emotions that came so naturally to others, but she had planted a seed of doubt. Having always been so confident in his own lacking, he found a part of himself excited to be proven wrong for the first time. Before closing the door softly, he spoke “Thank you, Nanami.”
“I’ve tried as hard as I physically can– nothing. I just can’t replicate it.” Nanami let out, frustrated after hours of trying in vain. “Any progress on your end?”
He didn’t meet her gaze, but she could tell by the far-off look in his eyes he wasn’t having much luck either. After running some analysis on their fluid samples from the day before, they found the protein-encased mystery particles from before seemed to be reacting in time with their quirk activation. They surmised it had to be connected to overhaul, but to what end they still weren’t sure. It also wasn’t helpful that whenever they attempted to isolate the particles from the sample fluids, they immediately disintegrated. Nanami felt they were hitting a wall and decided to try something risky. The suggestion had popped into her head an hour or so ago upon reviewing the final footage with Kurono, but hoped they’d figure out an alternative before resorting to testing it out. Sighing, she began, “…I ha—"
“ve an idea.” They spoke simultaneously, though what was a look of apprehension in Nanami’s eyes was one of mischief in Overhaul’s.
Yup, don’t like that.
“Don’t look so worried, we’ll be careful about this, just like last time. I don’t want a repeat of that morning as much as you do.” He said rubbing the back of his head upon remembering how very unpleasant it was cracking his skull and having to anxiously wait by her bedside for days.
“… Fine. But for the record, I do not endorse this, but desperate times…”
“Your apprehension has been noted.” He sighed annoyed, “After you, doctor.”
++++++++++++++++++++
They entered the testing arena followed by Kurono, Rappa and Mimic who were hauling in various plastics from the lab. They placed them neatly against the wall as Nanami took stock of the varying kinds and shapes she had to work with. Overhaul stood nearby taking down the room conditions and making markings on the floor while the last of the plastic was brought in. The pile was large, stretching at least six feet tall. Looking back at him, Nanami confirmed, “You sure about this?”
“Are you questioning him?” Mimic screeched as Nanami’s eyes reflexively rolled the second noise came from his mouth.
“Was I talking to yo—"
“Mimic.” Overhaul chided; his expression bored. Mimic scoffed, folding his arms, but remained silent nonetheless as Overhaul continued, “Yes, I am sure. I trust you.” He replied to her question simply.
If a pin had dropped in that moment, the sound would have been deafening as the three Precepts froze, staring in shock at what they’d heard. Nanami shared in their surprise before promptly looking away, feeling his gaze to be a bit too intense at the declaration. It was common knowledge that the only person he truly trusted was himself, and to state otherwise, in front of an audience no less, was no small matter. There wasn’t a hint of the sarcasm in his voice or features at his reply to her, no air of manipulation. It felt sincere and she was confronted with the possibility that the games had ended, and they’d truly stepped into new territory that sent her heart racing. A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed. Nanami thought, annoyed at how easily he got a rise out of her, heat rising to her cheeks.
Satisfied with her reaction, he resumed, his gaze still fixed on her, “Now, if you all value your eyes, you’ll leave us to our work. Or did any of you have something to say?”
“Nope, I’m good.” Rappa replied, turning on his heel and out of the room as the rest of them followed suit, Kurono’s face a bit too smug for Nanami’s liking.
Now alone in the room, Nanami spoke, still refusing to make eye contact, “L-let’s just get started.” She knelt down to the pile, examining it for a beat before transforming it into a large span of padding that covered a quarter of the room, the density thickest towards the center. The plastics made great raw materials for make-shift poly-fil, the padding essentially being a giant pillow to soften the impact she anticipated.
He strode over to her, disposing of his gloves, “We’ve tried a myriad of different ways to recreate the blast from the experiment on our lonesome with… depressing results. By the footage we can confirm that the air is what reacted to our quirk. I say we try again, together this time.”
“It’s gonna be pretty hard since I know we’re supposed to get riled up. It’d be kind of contrived to do it the same way as last time, don’t you think?”
“Agreed, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I’d like to try it as though we’re using overhaul normally, without any significant stressors.” He reasoned before motioning to the lines drawn on the floor as guides, “If we adhere to the diagram, we should be able to perform this with minimal risk.”
She chewed the inside of her mouth before acquiescing, “Alright, let’s line up and on the count of three, we’ll give it a shot.”
Nodding the went to their designated markers, both focusing intently on the target placed on the other side of the room. Standing side-by-side, each extended an arm outward, aiming towards the marker a few yards away. Taking a centering breath, Overhaul began, “One… two… three…”
“…”
“…”
“… Okay, now we just look constipated.” Nanami exasperated, frustrated by their lack of progress.
“Be serious.”
“I am. I just don’t know how this is supposed to work. Obviously, air is matter, but it’s… different. I can’t see it…”
“…But we can feel it.” They looked to each other, sharing a eureka moment. Early on in their research, they discovered what seemed to be a heightened sensitivity in their hands which was unsurprising as they were their primary quirk factors ( Nanami also discovered their feet could serve as secondary factors, but the idea of feet in general grossed Overhaul out so the discovery was promptly archived).
Closing her eyes, Nanami focused on her hands, feeling for every whisp of air that caressed her fingertips as she slowly moved them through the air. She was sure it looked like she was having a very boring acid trip, but ultimately the movements worked to help visualize the air particles to the best of her ability. With renewed vigor, she opened her eyes to see her lab partner doing a similar exercise, though his movements were more akin to lazier version of jazz hands. Stifling a giggle at the sight, she cleared her throat to gain his attention, “Ready to try again?”
“On three.” He confirmed, with a nod, his eyes focused on the target in the distance once more. “One… two… thre—"
The second the last syllable ended, a chain of explosions cascaded across the room, obliterating the target in an instant. The blast sent them careening backwards towards the padding on the wall and across the room and Nanami found herself eternally grateful they’d taken the time to reinforce it. Dizzied by the recoil, she hazily peered in the direction of the target, brushing a stray hair from her face. Blinking her vision into focus, it was clear that the target was gone… As well as the wall behind it… And the wall behind that one as well. Rebar and blocks of concrete fell pathetically from the rim of the gaping hole left behind, though the sound was muffled by the ringing in her right ear.
It worked. Nanami thought awestruck at her quirk. She could acknowledge its usefulness in a general sense, but for whatever reason, this moment reminded her of the sublime, and she felt Herculean for the first time in her life. It became easier for her to imagine how this feeling would leave others drunk with power, the possibility for creation and destruction growing more vast by the day, but her resolve remained unwavering. In the same moment that she was in awe of the destruction, there was a marked guilt at the thought of someone being in the way of a blast like that. Her quirk felt like a cruel metaphor for her life; constantly building to mitigate the equally constant destruction, both of which she was responsible for. I…have really got to stop depressing myself like this. She thought, shaking herself out of the mini-existential crisis.
Readjusting herself on the padding where she landed, there was a warmth on her back, then small, rhythmic breathes. She looked to either side of her to see familiar slack-clad legs caging her in. Connecting the dots, her eyes shot wide, realizing she was sitting in her partner’s lap. Trying to ignore a slew of unprofessional thoughts, she turned carefully, a small part of her hoping he’d been knocked out, simply to avoid any embarrassment. Still a bit sore, she steadied herself, absentmindedly putting a hand on his chest, the other pressing against the padding before looking to his face. Much to her chagrin, he was fully conscious. He gazed down at her with an expression she couldn’t read, though it certainly wasn’t blank. Hyperaware of their positioning she attempted to steady her breath before speaking, feeling the familiar tension between them growing more potent. Move! Say something, do something! Literally anything! Instead her breath hitched as he unsubtly glanced down at her lips before returning to her eyes, the fact that he’d made no efforts to change their position now weighing heavily on her. It was becoming too much for Nanami as it became clearer by the moment what the tension would amount to if left unchecked. The scariest part of it all being that she wouldn’t stop him if he decided to act on whatever ideas were dancing behind those eyes. Panicked by her own willingness, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, an awestruck look still in her eyes as she appreciated seeing him this close.
“That… was a bigass explosion.”
Truly insightful observation, Dr.Watanabe. Just put that as the title of the research paper: The Methodology and Phenomena of Bigass Explosions. She thought, inwardly rolling her eyes at herself.
She could feel his chest jerk at her comment in a stifled chuckle, his face that of disbelief and amusement, “You’re not wrong… Would you care to join me in getting up and surveying the results? This position isn’t ideal, for labwork that is.” He spoke the last part a bit too suggestively and Nanami was convinced her face would be stuck in a permanent state of blush.
“O-oh yeah, of course! Sorry about that,” She stammered, hopping to her feet before instinctively extending her hand to help him up. She almost immediately remembered how silly the gesture was, but before she could withdraw the palm, he grasped it firmly, accepted the lift. She pulled him up, struggling for a beat as he was heavier than he looked, trying her best to hide a look of shock as he held her hand longer than necessary.
As they surveyed the damage from a distance, there was a glint in his eye, that left her equally excited and concerned. They hadn’t realized it yet, but what appeared to be a breakthrough dragged behind it a deluge of questions they might soon regret asking.
A/N: Shoutout to Kurono, The Lawful Evil Wingman™.
Making the long trek down the hallways, Nanami began mulling over her hypotheses about what transpired. She opened the door to find Chisa—I mean Overhaul—looking pensively and found herself glad they were on the same, confusing page.
“So, I think we should go over the chain of events.”
“Agreed.” He concurred as he pulled up the notes he made earlier and she went to the whiteboard to write.
“Ok, so at 5:30 AM we woke up like usual,” how easily the ‘like usual’ part came out after only a week together made her stomach flip, but she did her best to ignore it, clearing her throat before continuing,” we ate the same thing for dinner, and neither of us had eaten breakfast or ingested anything besides water.”
Having no idea what caused their shared quirk, they thought it best to keep track of their eating habits and refrain from taking any medication unless absolutely necessary. It resulted in a couple days of cranky Nanami as she rode out the odd headache every now and again, but it was just another rule to help ensure their results were as accurate as possible.
“At 6 AM, we began running. And I remember my phone reading 6:15 AM when I changed the song, so the reaction had to have happened around 6:20 AM.” She said, finishing the timeline on the white board. “At 15 minutes in you wouldn’t have been using the latent abilities of overhaul yet, so we were both neutral at this point.”
Considering the facts for a moment, he interjected,” I think this would work best if we tried to replicate this scene exactly to our best ability in the testing area. Kurono will spectate so we can avoid injury like last time.”
“I figured,” her voice gave away a hint of apprehension as her back was turned to him, still facing the board but writing nothing. She knew whatever it was was an accident, but the possibility of sustaining injuries like she had before was still very unappealing. She heard a chair move and then footsteps.
“As I said, it won’t happen again. This is just a reenactment, you’ll be safe.”
She turned to see him a safe distance away but could tell the look in his eyes was sincere. After a beat, she simply nodded, “Ok, let’s do this.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day, they woke up at the same time and went out doing the same routine, except they would jog in the testing area so Kurono could take notes and supervise. When the reaction happened, he’d at least be able to slow them down and mitigate the intense injuries from before. Nanami put in her earphones, listening to the same music and making the same movements as the timer they’d made to signal events buzzed, letting them know when to begin each interaction. They jogged around the room at the same pace and the timer sounded again, signaling them to begin talking, or rather arguing.
“It wouldn’t make sense to ignore that we were pretty riled up at the time, even though neither of us activated our quirk. So, do what you do best and get on my nerves.”
“I was going to say the exact same thing.”
“You’ll have to escalate this further, your heart rates have risen, but they’re still not high enough.” Kurono remarked, checking the charts. Thankfully Nanami had been wearing a BitFit when running so they knew the goal was at least 189 BPM. As it stood, they were only at 150 with only another 4 minutes to get it up.
Thinking quickly, Kurono decided it wouldn’t be very plausible for them to work themselves up if they were aware of it. He thought it best to help, “By the way, Dr. Watanabe, did you still need me to text that guy friend of yours for you to reschedule your date? I’ll need to drive a bit so the signal hits the right cell tower, but Tanaka just sounded so excited to see you again.”
At this Nanami was a bit confused. She was supposed to reschedule her dinner date with Tanaka, but Kurono had already done that last week and both of them knew it. What’s he talking about…
“…Date?” Overhaul’s voice was low and accusatory.
“Yeah, we go on them all the time, but I’ve had to put them on hold since this whole obligatory quarantine with you.” She replied plainly.
“’All the time’.” He intoned, sounding almost disgusted at her response.
“That’s what I said… Is there a proble– ”
“Exactly how long has this been happening?”
“A while.” She wasn’t sure why the air had shifted between them, but his temper was starting to grate her nerves, “I followed procedure and haven’t left this entire time. Why do you even care?” she asked half-jokingly.
“I do not care. It is physically impossible for me to care any less about you and who you associate with.”
“What the – why are you being such an ass?” She said getting closer, similar to before.
They continued to argue as Kurono calmy monitored their vitals, satisfied they were now at the appropriate BPM. Making his notes, he looked up to see them dangerously close and noticed something they hadn’t considered before. There was usually a noticeable tension between them, but today it seemed more like the air was almost electric or filled with a static of some sort. Soon, due to their proximity and Nanami’s tendency to gesture with her hands when she spoke, Kurono took a gamble. Hoping they were too entranced in their own spat to notice he quietly and quickly walked up to them stopping short to cut them both with his hair. Both of them now slowed, he moved them into the safety of the observation deck, hoping his gamble would pay off as Overhaul and Nanami looked royally pissed. He explained before unfreezing them, “You know I wouldn’t do it unless I absolutely had to. Just look closely at the spot I moved you two from.” Unfreezing them, they tabled the argument to observe. Then an explosion happened, just like before.
They gathered around the monitor in the room and played back the recording, zooming in on the spot and fast forwarding to the exact moment the explosion happened. Seeing it in slow motion, a spiderweb of blue light fractured outwardly before the explosion happened. It looked like lightning and was just as fast, so missing it in the midst of the blast was easy. Watching it back again, they all shared a look of realization.
“It’s the air.” They said in unison.
“I’ll compile the footage. Dr. Watanabe, could you retrieve the supplies for collecting blood and sweat samples as well as the barometer? Fluid samples and air conditions need to be collected and noted as soon as possible,” Kurono reasoned.
“Agreed, be right back!” Nanami nodded, jogging out of the room.
Kurono turned to Overhaul, the terminal he was using to monitor their vitals still in hand, “Kai, you can relax a bit, I only needed it to be 189 not 21—”
“Do not speak to me.”
Kurono sighed, realizing it would be best to put his friend out of his misery before he said anything else stupid today to potentially ruin his chances with the good doctor, “I won’t say another word, but… it’s probably important to note Dr. Tanaka has a cute wife—not as attractive as our dear doctor, but a looker nonetheless. She and Nanami seem to be great friends…” glancing out the corner of his eye he could see Overhaul’s brow furrow as he reluctantly listened,” All three of them hang out pretty regularly, you know. They go on these things called ‘dinner dates’. They poke fun at Dr. Watanabe for being single, but she seems to enjoy her time with them nonetheless. Just a bit of information I thought I’d share.”
At this Overhaul’s head slowly turned to his direction, an incredulous look on his face as Kurono finished speaking, “You motherfu—”
“Dr. Watanabe! You’re back.” Kurono interjected with a level of enthusiasm that felt foreign as he wisely walked over to her, creating distance between himself and his friend.
“Um… yes. Here I am.” She said, a bit confused as to why the usually even-keeled Kurono was so animated while Overhaul now looked like he was having an existential crisis. “You guys good…or?”
“We’re fine.”
“We’re great!”
Not wanting to be in the middle of whatever had happened in the 2 minutes she’d been gone, she thought it best to gloss over it. “Oki doki then… let’s collect these samples.”
Kurono withdrew blood from Nanami then placed gauze on her to absorb the sweat before walking over to Overhaul to do the same. His glare told him it was best not to be within striking distance and promptly handed the supplies to Nanami. “I’ll just be back in the lab computer lab while you guys get some air readings and finish collecting the sweat samples. Be back in 30.” Kurono said while hurriedly collecting his laptop and the camera’s SD card before leaving. He spared his friend a sympathetic look that was spitefully ignored before closing the door to the observation room behind him.
They sat in silence for the first 5 minutes as Nanami tried to think of a way to break the ice. Having been in the situation so often, she felt like an expert and decided to just go for it, “So, what was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
“Oh, you know, the plotline of the soap opera that was on last night,” she mocked in an airhead voice before continuing seriously, “—you know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb, you were so mean back there!”
“Of course, I was.”
“I can’t believe yo—wait what?”
“I said of course, I had to be rude. We needed to recreate the scene and you were too calm in comparison to that morning for it to be accurate.”
She raised her hand to point at him, her mouth opening to speak, before stopping short and putting her index to her lips, a pensive look on her face. “So, that was just you… acting?”
“Exactly. Your acting skills being so subpar, I’m not surprised you didn’t recognize it.”
Brushing off his comment, she continued thinking, “But how did you get your heart rate up so high?”
“Practice. Plenty of people can control their heart rate and work themselves up with enough discipline.”
She didn’t have anything to say to that, feeling a bit foolish for letting her feelings cloud her judgement, “Well, wow,” she chuckled derisively to herself,” now I feel silly for getting genuinely worked up at you. Sorry abou—”
“Don’t be. It was for the experiment; your reaction was as it should have been.”
“… Ah. Alright then. Well, how do you want to spend the next… 23 minutes? Besides just working up a sweat, of course.” He gave her a look and she realized it could have been worded better as she rubbed her temples hoping to hide her now very warm cheeks, “… I’m just going to stop talking for the foreseeable future.”
“That’s acceptable, however,” he looked over to her his hand extended as his eyes glanced from her to her bag in the corner.
“… I hate you.” She grabbed her planner and a pen, flipping it to the bookmarked page. Begrudgingly, she handed it over, refusing to give him the satisfaction of eye contact. He’d been merciful letting a multitude of opportunities slide since that night in the bar, so this time she knew it had to be done.
He placed the tally mark next to her doodle portrait as he first had months ago, satisfied the score was close to being even. “Now, let’s talk theories.”
Series: The Untamed/ Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation
Chapter: 4- Pharaoh
Pairing: Wangxian ( But Ladybug Love Square this time)
Genre: Romance, humor, angst, action
Rated: T
Words: 10,072
Summary: (Miraculous Ladybug AU) In modern-day Paris a terrible power has taken root, Hawkmoth, holder of the Butterfly Miraculous, has started using his powers for evil and turning innocent civilians into supervillains who do his bidding. To protect the people of Paris from Hawkmoth, teenagers Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are chosen to become Ladybug and Chat Noir. Not knowing one another’s secret identities, the two of them try to protect Paris while remaining caught up on their school work and keep their double lives secret from their loved ones.
Chapter Summary: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are paired together for a project on Ancient Egypt but their field trip doesn’t go according to plan when someone at the Lourve get’s akumatized and they must transform into Mister Bug and Chat Noir to save the day
warnings:arguing, mentions of murder/death, tension, cliffhanger
A/N: previous chapter’s mention of Silver Guard changed to Iron Guard because i got my lycanthropes and my faeries mixed up :P
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“Good afternoon,” Janus started, because if he was to be stripped of the element of surprise, he was at least going to handle the situation with grace. “I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a misund– ahm.”
He cut his sentence short, since two undersized hands had descended to pull at his cheeks with a careless, borderline-painful level of strength. Janus didn’t allow himself to wince or sputter at the childish gambit, simply narrowing his eyes and raising his eyebrows slightly into something unamused as he felt crumbs of dried mud tumble off his face.
“Re!” the fire sprite hissed, frozen where he was hovering above the others. “What are you doing?”
“Instigating,” Re replied, the shit-eating grin audible even though he was still standing behind Janus. “He broke Lo’s magic, so I’m tryin’ to see if he can blow someone up with his brain or something.”
Did that imply the kid was trying to get himselfblown up?
Logan was in the middle of trying to restructure the day’s schedule when Patton returned from the Imagination.
It had been a perfectly sustainable schedule yesterday, but seeing as Thomas had abruptly decided— against all good sense— to stay awake watching conspiracy videos into the early hours of the morning, rescheduling was in order.
Come daylight, Thomas had predictably slept right through four alarms and two of his planned tasks, and Logan was finding himself, admittedly, a bit vexed.
Luckily, the lack of external stimuli from Thomas’s end meant that his fellow Sides were behaving in a more sedate manner than usual, meaning that Logan could work in peace even in the often-frequented common area.
At the moment, Janus was reading silently on an armchair tucked into the corner of the room, and Roman was sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in his arms, likely dozing off after the less-than-restful night. That left only three— no,two(he must have forgotten to count himself) other Sides unaccounted for, and hopefully they wouldstayabsent until Logan finished one of the tools Thomas needed to get back on track.
As though to spite him personally, the distinct whirring sound of someone returning from the Imagination sounded from down the hall.
warnings:ptsd, mentions of past trauma/bad living conditions/dehumanization
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When Virgil emerged from his cockpit after piloting for as long as he could manage, there were two Humans waiting for him.
He paused immediately, tempted to just turn around and pretend he wasn’t going to pass out at the helm within the hour.
Unfortunately, they would probably still be there no matter how long he hid away. The Humans seemed to need longer rest periods than him, but they also slept in shifts, and there was always at least one awake, often two.
warnings: unreliable narrator, physical & mental abuse, violence, dissociation, panic, remus-typical body horror, PTSD, painfully high number of dad jokes
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Everything was not fine.
Patton shook his head, trying to focus on the meat he was browning. That wasn’t true, not really. Here, everything was wonderful.
That was the problem.
One day turned to two, turned to a week, turned to two weeks. And Patton was still here.
In all that time, they hadn’t made a single mention of kicking him out, not even Umbra. They’d settled into a routine, displacing their usual lives to live in what had to be a secondary safehouse, and Patton had somehow been folded into that routine without any of them thinking twice.
Virgil woke up surrounded by warmth and the smell of sugar.
It was nice for about as long as it took him to fully drag himself from the depths of his exhausted slumber, at which point it became terrifying.
He jerked half-upright in a blind panic, heart racing, and tried to lift his arms up to see how bad the restraints were. He was pinned under heavy layers of thick fabric, and he wasted a few precious moments silently wrestling against them before he was finally free, his fingers instantly flying to his face and seeking out the familiar bite of leather and silver.
There was none. The only thing that caught against his fingers was old scar tissue along the underside of his jaw.
The echo of old memories faded into the background, his mind slowly replacing them with the reality of his surroundings.
warnings: tension, arguing, mild violence, mentions of drowning and murder, spider
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For the record, Virgil was very unhappy about the current situation.
Admittedly, he wasn’t sad to leave the village behind. Patton had been miserable there, and the people there seemed to have a grudge the size of a mountain, despite the fact that he’d been very careful to never do anything worse than scare someone out of his woods.
And they were his woods! He’d cleared out an old cave system, settled into the local ecosystem without overhunting, and fought hard to counter any claims other supernatural denizens wanted to lay. He’d made himself troublesome enough that the prime patch of land remained under his care. He was pretty sure he’d actually prevented some actualmaneater types from settling anywhere near the village, even!
What did he get in return? Hostilities so high that his humans had used them to talk him around to the idea of abandoning his home for the past several years, despite his defining character trait of loathing sudden changes in his life.
Logan’s unrelenting debate points about bounties and Patton’s unbridled enthusiasm about moving may have swayed him to agree, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“… Food?” Virgil echoed, wondering if he’d heard wrong.
“Yes, food,” Square continued, their gaze flickering to the cup he’d almost forgotten he was holding. “You have a… food-storage room on the ship, yes?”
“A pantry?” Virgil asked, and then nodded because what else could they be referring to. “I need to eat, most things do.”
“Us as well,” Square replied, and Virgil quickly cottoned on to their seriousness.
His nerves increased. Humans consumed flesh and blood, didn’t they? The only non-Human source of that on the ship was him, and he wasn’t feeling thatgenerous. “I don’t have meat.”
warnings: g/t, fearplay, misunderstandings, PTSD, brief references to murder/enslavement/ect., angstish with a happyish ending?
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Roman held his thumb out, studying the spacing of the paint spread out on the huge plywood board in his backyard. He was itching to start, but the artist in him wouldn’t allow for sloppy placement, even if his current composition mostly consisted of archaic runes.
The summoning circle before him had been mostly freehanded, since he was using such a limited canvas. Most of the books were very firm about the idea of using a solid floor in a spare room, but Roman’s apartment was rented and he wasnotabout to lose his whole deposit for one experiment. That was Remus behavior, and he had standards, thank-you-very-much.
Instead, he’d gone and bought the largest available plywood panel he could find at the nearest Home Depot, which measured about four feet across on its shortest side.
Patton wasn’t entirely sure what he expected after the impromptu therapy session didn’t turn up any results.
A relocation to somewhere secure, somewhere they could keep an eye on him, maybe. Disappointment at his utter failure to recall anything, certainly.
He didn’t blame them. Whatever was locked away in his mind was their best lead on their enemies, and he had just proved himself unwilling to use the key even after all the effort they’d gone to.
warnings: fear/panic, self loathing, lack of care for own wellbeing, brief canon-typical cannibalism mention
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“Hey there, kiddos!” the demon slayer at the door said brightly.
“Umm,” DW said, and then promptly slammed the door shut. Then, as an afterthought, she slid the lock shut as well. She whirled around to face them, eyes wide.
“DW!” Harley signed urgently, their hands coming up to grab at their hair for a brief moment. “That was so suspicious!”
“Well, what was I supposed to do!” DW returned, signing instead of speaking so their unexpected visitor couldn’t overhear. “If he sees Virgil–,”
Her hands stopped dead, and the two of them turned to look at Virgil at the same moment.
warnings: violence, body horror, fear, ptsd, a truly gratuitous amount of puns
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Patton leaned back against the riverbank, the soft sprigs of grass acting as the perfect cushion for his sunbathing.
Normally, he’d have been sneezing up a storm and covered in welts by now, having inherited a surprising amount of Thomas’s allergies, including the one that made his skin itch when he sat on grass for too long.
Luckily, in the Imagination, the rules were a little different. The grass could be soft and hypoallergenic, the riverbank’s sand could refuse to stick against his clothes, the sunshine could feel pleasantly warm despite beating directly down on him.
A shadowed, gloomy forest could exist right next to a sunny flower field, even!
Patton snuck a glance at the not-so-hypothetical forest in question, resisting the urge to shudder at the sight of it.
It was a borderline miracle that they’d managed to finish their breakfast with the experimenting that Remus and Patton started doing, but Virgil couldn’t deny that seeing Remus so clearly enjoying himself was enough to make even his cold, dead heart flutter.
If only the source of his teammate’s happiness wasn’t a ticking time bomb in the form of an insanely dangerous supervillain.
warnings: intrusive thoughts, somewhat graphic mentions of hypothetical gore, injury, burns, mentions of nsfw, remus pov and all it entails
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Remus stared down at the supervillain still attached to his side like a limpet, wondering absently if this was the part where he slid a knife between Remus’s ribs and revealed that it was all a ruse.
His captors settled into a pattern: Noisy and Heartfelt traded off shifts watching him, though they occasionally would stand there together and murmur in low voices, as though he would somehow magically become fluent enough in their language if they’d spoken louder.
Noisy spent most of their shift leaned against the wall where they could easily peer into the cockpit opening, and as the shift went on, they would hum and even sing to themself. They were mostly bright, upbeat tunes, though occasionally a more somber or harsh song would find its way into the arrangement. Virgil stubbornly didn’t bob along to the rhythm of those, casting aside any temptation with the memory of their hands squeezing the breath from his lungs.
Virgil was right in the middle of refueling when the freighter ship pulled into the landing bay.
It glided in perfectly normally, only wobbling slightly on the landing, but he took note of it, the same way he would take note of any strange vessel within viewing range. It was old, and worn down, like it hadn’t been cared for properly through all its years of loyally hauling junk around for folks.
He’d woken up with a headache that lingered and pulsed in the corners of his skull, and decided to indulge in some rest and relaxation. He’d just gotten settled in his room with tea, dimmed lights, and an audiobook when the alerts started piling in.
As though getting interrupted right at the climax of his murder mystery novel wasn’t irritating enough, it was apparently Lightshowof all people who was causing a panic downtown.
Summary:Jensen is Y/N’s favourite client, but a shocking turn of events leads to interesting thrills, deep secrets and an outcome no one could predict.
Rating:18+
PartTags:cheating, mentions of amateur porn, jerking off, male masturbation, non-con voyeurism (I guess, nothing dark though), angst, seduction, cupping, ball fondling
Your Mom’s car isn’t in the driveway when you arrive home, but Jeff’s is. You’ve been getting on well with Jeff, and you’re starting to hope that your Mom doesn’t fuck this up. Though given the fact that she’s spending a lot of time vacationing with girlfriends and not her fiance, you can only assume the marriage is for one thing only where she’s concerned. She keeps excusing it all as wedding planning, but you know she’s hired an extremely expensive wedding planner to do all of that for her. As long as she ends up with at least half of Jeff’s assets, she probably doesn’t care what colour the bridesmaid dresses are, or what flowers she’s holding.
You and Jeff had had a lot of time alone together to get to know each other, and he’s funny and seems kind and caring, and you find yourself biting your tongue, a lot, wanting to ask him why he’s marrying your mother if he’s not oblivious to the fact that she only wants him for his money. But you never want to sour his mood, so you never bring it up.
