#ransom Drysdale x child reader

[kining-the-evil]

Hi

I was wondering if you could write a Random Drysdale x daughter reader??

Like Ransom took his toddler to a family dinner and while he was there she got really tired, so he picked her up and she fell asleep in his arms. The entire family is shocked that the spoiled playboy has a soft spot for his little girl because never in a million years did they think Ransom would be the one comforting a sleepy toddler.

Thank you

An: i have not written something for this blog in so fucking long. I hope you like this though!

Warnings: other then swearing there are none.

Ransom fucking hated family dinners. His family was full of pricks, and there were a million things he would rather do then spend his evening with them. But his grandfather wanted him there- or more that he wanted to see his daughter.

“Come on y/n! We’ve got to go!” Ransom called walking towards the little girls room. He found her sitting on the floor playing with a tea set. “Y/n, we need to leave or we will be late,” he sighed. She glanced up at him, a smile on her face.

“Ok daddy!” She jumped up, but instead of the door she ran to her bed and grabbed the small purple blanket she always wanted to take with her. He really did try to break the habit with you, but he didn’t ever fight it at family dinners. No point in making you more miserable.

“Come on,” he once again told her. She ran past him and towards the door, and once he opened the door she were quick to the car. He simply opens the back door and watched her climb into her car seat.

The drive was quick, and soon enough the pulled in front of the large house. His mom was standing out on the porch, a cigarette in her mouth. He pulled you out of the car before setting her down and letting her run towards the house.

“Hi Linda!” Y/n called out cheerful, and Random had to hold back his laughter.

“You need to teacher not to call me that,” his mother snapped at him, but he just pushed past her. “And you’re late!”

Ransom pushed the door open, and y/n quickly ran past him.

“Grandpa!” She squealed while running towards Harlan.

“Well hello there!” He didn’t lean down to her, but he did rub her back as she hugged his leg. “Nice to see you Ransom.” All Harlan received was a small grunt as Ransom pushed past him.

—————

“What are you laughing at asshole?” Walt snapped when he caught sight of Ransom’s smirk.

“Oh, nothing Walt. Just listening to your son get yelled at.” Ransom couldn’t help the smile as he watched the man’s face tern completely red.

“That’s unnecessary.” Joni cut in, glaring at Ransom.

“Your daughter is the one yelling at him!” Richard snapped at his daughter in law, which just launched everyone into another fight.

Ransom glanced beside him when he heard soft footsteps coming towards him. Y/n was next to him, her blanket pulled tightly to her face.

“I thought you were playing with Marta?” He asked, watching as she rubbed her face. She simply shook her head, and he could tell she was getting tired. “Come here,” he sighed as he picked her up. She quickly made herself comfortable on his lap, digging her face into his neck. He rubbed her back lightly, making sure she had He blanket.

He glanced up, noticing the quiet that had come over his family. All of them were staring at him. “What?” He grunted, staring right back.

“What the fuck was that?” Walt asked.

“What was What?”

“That,” Linda pointed to where y/n was sat.

“I picked my daughter up.” Ransom felt like he was missing something that everyone else was getting.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Ransom glared up at his mother before standing up while keeping y/n in his arms.

“That’s fair. You didn’t give me the best model,” he snapped before walking to leave. They all let him go, and the only person he stoped for was Harlan.

“Say bye to your grandfather,” he mumbled as he bumped y/n with his shoulder a bit. She turned her head, waving at him while mumbling a goodbye.

“Have a good night darling,” Harlan ruffled her hair a bit before letting the two leave.

“Assholes,” Ransom mumbled, causing y/n to look up.

“Assholes?”

“Don’t say that,” he sighed while putting her into her car seat. “Unless your talking about them. Then it’s ok.” He winked, causing her to giggle at him.

#ransom drysdale x daughter!reader #ransom drysdale #daughter reader #ransom Drysdale x child reader #knives out #request #fanfiction

[georgiapeach30513]

I’m Not Supposed to Play with Boys

Summary:  Ransom always gets what he wants.  Even if he has to wait.

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, (step) dad’s best friend, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, age gap, dirty talk, D/s dynamics, degradation, teasing, edging, female masturbation/humping, fingering, finger in mouth, humiliation, body writing, oral sex (M receiving), daddy kink, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.6K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Your dad looks at the rear view mirror.  Watching your face as the car looms ever closer to the Thrombey estate.  You try to remain neutral in your thoughts as more and more of the animal statues come into view.  Counting each one because the closer they were, the closer you got to the mansion.  And you hope that the person you had been longing to see was there.  

Your dad sighs, and you look at the reflection of his cobalt eyes, “Ransom is going to be here today, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“You’re not my real dad, and I’m not a child.”

“You are visiting from college, and this is my friend’s family home,” his voice gets a bit more of an edge to it, and you roll your eyes.  He was so predictable.  Expected perfection from you.  Because you reflected on him.

“Honey, just listen to your dad,” your mom yawns, pushing her seat back, and closing her eyes.  There wasn’t even that much further to go, and she was already sleepy from who knows what.  Your step-father rolls his eyes as the creepy estate comes into view, but that pretty little Beemer was nowhere insight.  

“Do you think Linda would mind me taking a nap?” Your mom pets on his arm, and you feel like getting sick.  She was more of a friend than a mother.  She had you when she couldn’t even legally drive.  It was like the two of you had grown up together.  And sometimes you wondered if she was still trying to sew her wild oats.

He slowly removes his foot from the accelerator, throwing the car into park, “I’m going to see if they need any help in the kitchen,” you jump out before he could say anything.  He was going to wait outside with the family, while your mother took her ‘nap’.  You were going to wait where you could hopefully see that Beemer drive up.  They didn’t need help in the kitchen.  Everything was already outside.  But you did exactly what Ransom had asked you to.  And now you wait.

——

Ransom spots his best friend’s car, and gets a big grin on his face.  He was told that you were home from Harvard.  He doesn’t waste time saying his hellos, he needs a snack.  From the kitchen.  Into the house he walks, and straight into the kitchen.  He must have been quieter than he had thought.  You hadn’t noticed him.

Your back is to him, and he notices slow little movements forward.  Right at the table.  A soft little whimper is music to his ears.  He opens up a cabinet for a packet of cookies, and you push off the table, “What cha doing?” He looks all the way down your body before meeting your stare with an arrogant grin.

“N-n-nothing,” you answer quickly.  Smoothing down your dress as you look at anything that wasn’t him.  You have never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Looked like you were humping the edge of the table.  Where you fucking my grandpa’s table?” You shake your head no, starting to retreat out of the kitchen.  “Wait.  I’m not finished talking to you.  If I happen to lift that little skirt of yours am I going to see that pretty pussy wet?”

“Um…no,” why was him embarrassing you like that making you more heated?  Why was there a fresh gush of your juices to your core at the sound of his voice?

“Be a good girl, and lift up your skirt.  Come on, I wanna see.  Just wanna know if you’re still a desperate little slut for me,” slowly you lift up your skirt, and indeed the cotton gusset of your panties are darkened with your slick.  “You were saying?” He chuckles, looking back up at you.

“I’m sorry, Ransom.  I…”

“Oh, sweet little princess, what made you so weak in the knees?  What’s got you all needy and grinding on that old table?”

Your eyes drift down to the floor, and your cheeks heat up in flames.  He was going to make you say it, and you couldn’t.  You mustn’t.  “You know who.”

“Yeah, but that crush was a couple of years ago.  You can’t still have a thing for little ole me, right?”

“I — I had sex like you asked.  I’ve got experience now,” your voice is desperate when you try to tell Ransom that you followed his rules for you when you graduated.  You followed his instructions perfectly.  Listened to every word.  “I…”

“And you’re still a needy fucking thing.  What is that you want?  You want to suck my fat cock?”

“Yes!  Please!” Ransom’s mouth turns up into a devilish smirk.  Lifting his hand up, he curls his finger, beckoning you to him.  

You get almost to him, but he backs away, “No, no.  Show me what you were doing just a minute ago.  But hold your skirt up.  I wanna watch.  Show me how you get off when you think of me,” you gulp deeply as you walk back to the edge of the table.  Lifting up your skirt when you settle yourself on the mahogany.  Your lips spread over the wood, and it touches right on your clit, and you start grinding on it.

“There ya go.  I bet that feels good on your desperate little cunt, hmm?  You thinking of my cock splitting you open?”

“Yeah,” whining as you grind down even harder.

“Fucking you so hard that your head is pounding on headboard.”

“Yeah.  Yes!”

“Have you screaming out ‘Fuck me harder, daddy,” your hips race your forward.  Getting so close that you're panting out his name.  Getting just right to edge, when Ransom places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you off the table, “I didn’t say you could come, you greedy little slut.  Now let’s see how wet you are,” he shoves his fingers into your panties, and you moan when he gathers up your slick.

Holding out his hand, he stretches his fingers out, letting you see just how sticky and wet the mess in your panties is.  Smiling at his fingers before he presses them past your lips, “Be a good girl, and clean me off,” closing your mouth around his fingers, you suck yourself off him.  Circling your tongue around his thick digits.  Almost creaming your panties when you hear him moan.

“Now, let's go say hey to your dad.  I’m sure a good handshake covered in your juices is just what he needs.  Stay wet and messy,” he walks out, leaving you alone and uncomfortable with how wet you are.  Nothing left to do but follow him outside.  

——

Ransom smirks at you from across the lawn.  He has been having a steady conversation with your dad, but his eyes are always on you.  He knows how uncomfortably soaked you are, and he finds it hilarious.  It is a game to him to lick his lips, and readjust himself.  Waiting until you were swishing your thighs together when you see his thick girthy cock in his palm.  It was unfair.

Grunting, you stomp back inside.  Needing to get something to drink.  Who knew, maybe even taking a cold shower.  Anything had to be better than what Ransom was doing to you.  And the worst part was he knew!  He knew that he was driving you crazy.

“Did I make you mad, Princess?”

“You’re making me crazy!  I’m soaked, and I’m horny, and you knew.  You knew what you were doing when…”

“You don’t like me teasing you?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head no.  Ransom looks you up and down as he steadily walks closer to you.  Getting right in front of you when he leans to your ear.  Sniffing up the side of your neck.  His breath on you went straight to your core as more slick floods your underwear, “Get on your knees.”

“What?” What was his game?  What did he want from you?

“Get on your knees, and suck my cock, Princess.  It’s hard and waiting on your filthy little mouth.  Get on your knees now,” turning around, you can see the party going on outside.  He wasn’t serious.  The window was right there.  Your dad was right there.  With a view straight inside to you and Ransom.  

“You want my cock?  Well, here it is,” you look down between the two of you and his pretty cock is the only thing separating you.  Beads of precum at the tip making it look all glistening and pretty, and you crave to taste it.  

His thumb rubs over his slit, smearing his leaking juices over his thumb, and he paints the liquid on your lips, “Suck.  My.  Cock,” slowly you sink to your knees, kissing up his protruding vein, “As much as I would like for you to take your time, we do have an audience out there.  You wouldn’t want daddy to see me fucking your pretty little face, would you?”

“Uh-uh,” you whine as he pushes his length into your mouth.  You hollow out your cheeks, and grip the back of his thighs.  Rolling your eyes up to look at him.  His hand pets over your neck a moment before he starts thrusting into you.  You let him take control.  Allowing him to use your mouth as his personal fuck toy.

He holds tightly to your head as he fucks into you.  His eyes moving from your pretty face, stuffed with him, and then out to the guests outside, “Have you seen my daughter?” Your dad yells.  You try to scurry away, but Ransom holds you tighter.  His pelvis propelling into you more.

“No.  I think she had an upset stomach.  Maybe she’s been stuffing her mouth full,” Ransom snorts.  Casually talking to your dad while he drives into you.  He glances back down to you.  Your weight had settled on one of his feet, and while he was fucking your face, you were grinding on his foot like a bitch in heat.

“You think daddy can hear you gagging?  You think he knows that you're drooling for my cock?” You whimper, holding onto him tighter.  Undulating your hips, and soaking his foot with your arousal.  You are dripping wet.  Needy and ready to come.  Sputtering around his member, your drool leaks down your neck.  “You filthy little slut couldn’t wait for me to fuck one of her holes, could she?  You gonna be my little slut?  You gonna call me daddy instead?”

“Mhmm,” he pulls himself out of your mouth, and you gasp for air.  Your lungs sting as oxygen rushes to fill them up.  His cock slaps across your face, and you don't understand.

“Say it.  Call me daddy.  Tell me how bad you want my cock.  Even though I feel that sloppy cunt throbbing on my foot.  I need to hear you say it.”

“Daddy, I want you to fuck my face.  Need you to come in my throat?” Grabbing your head, he crams himself back into your mouth.  Stabbing into you so fast.  So deep he was making your throat bulge out.  And your body hunger for more air.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you.  Almost there.  Gotta hurry.  Can’t let anyone see you being my pretty little slut.  Taking this big fat cock like a good girl.  Uh!  Uh!  Oh!” His head tilts back, and his load shoots into the back of your throat.  You moan at the salty musk that is Ransom.  Your hips fuck down on him harder.  Getting right there…

“I still didn’t tell you to come,” he meanly states, pushing you off him.

“Ransom!  That’s not fair!  I want to come, too.”

“What did you call me?”

“Daddy!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” his voice is so patronizing as he lifts your skirt, “Spread your legs.  Let daddy see what a pitiful little pussy this is,” you do as you're told, and he moves your panties aside.  Staring at your pulsing cunt with a smile.  “Pitiful,” he lets a drip of his spit drop onto your pussy, and you moan at the cool sensation.  

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s shadow falls into the kitchen, and over Ransom’s back, and you slap your hands over your skirt, covering yourself up.

“Oh, she fell,” Ransom says quickly.  Nodding to your dad as Ransom offers his hand down to him.  “I think maybe she should lay down somewhere.  She was acting a bit delirious.”

Your dad looks between the two of you, clearly not believing a word that either of you had said, “You’ll miss the fireworks.”

“I’ve seen fireworks before.  Ransom is right, dad, I just don’t feel right.  Must be all the excitement today.”

“Go upstairs, third door on the left.  There’s a window that you’ll be able to see all the fireworks,” you give him a nod as you walk up the stairs slowly.  “Is everything okay?” Ransom asks with a smirk.  He caught him spitting into your cunt.  He knows his friend saw you all spread out for him.

“She fell, huh?” He asks.  His eyes darkening as he walks closer.  Looking down at the floor to see a wet spot.  You were messy.

“Yep,” Ransom answers, popping his p.  He holds his hands out shrugging, “I don’t know what to tell you.  Your daughter is clumsy.  She tends to make a mess, too.  Did you know she was a messy little thing?”

“She’s not my real daughter,” he had to add that little bit of information.  Had to let Ransom know when he was looking at you, it was okay.

“Yeah, but you did really marry her mom.  Maybe you should go outside, daddy-o.  Isn’t your wife finally awake?” He shakes his head no, starting to walk back out.  Flinging his head towards the door.  Wanting Ransom to follow.  He had no such plans.  He was going to fuck you during these fireworks.  “Are you that lonely that you need me with you?”

“Are you?” His eyebrow cocks up, “Do you need me with you?”

“Touché.  Listen, I don’t want to be crass, but…”

“She fell, huh?  Is she going to fall again?”

“Yep.  Fall right on my dick.”

——

“You ready to come, Princess?  I got the perfect seat for you to enjoy your fireworks.  Look at this seat daddy prepared for you,” Ransom fists his cock a few times as you walk closer to him.  “There ya go.  You gonna show daddy what you learned in school?  I’m sure Harvard is all boring, but what did those boys teach you in your dorm?”

“I want you to fuck me, though,” tonight was all about you doing all the work.  You wanted nothing more than for Ransom to take advantage of you.  Didn’t care if everyone could hear you screaming.  You wanted him.

“Oh, Princess, this first time I want you to show daddy what those silly college boys taught you.  Sit on my lap.  Let daddy stretch you out,” taking a deep breath, you walk over to Ransom.  Straddling his legs, you grab the base of his cock, and run it through your slit.  

Looking into Ransom’s eyes, you slowly sink down over him, biting at your lip.  None of the boys from school felt like him.  None of them looked like him.  And when you sink balls deep on him, you know that none of them have ever been that deep.  Couldn’t even wish to reach the depths that Ransom did, “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy has such a big cock.  You just sit like that until your pussy doesn’t hurt anymore.  I got her all stretched out, huh?” You nod your head as you bite your lip.  Overwhelmed because you finally feel Ransom.  Finally have him inside of you.  Something you have dreamed about for years.  “You feel me in your belly, honey?”

“Yeah.  But it feels good.”

“Yeah it does.  You gonna let me cum in this tight little pussy?  You are so pretty when you’re a mess,” you slowly start to grind over Ransom.  Getting a better feel of him before you start to bounce on top of him.  Letting your pussy suck him right back in as deep as you could take him.  “Your titties do look pretty bouncing in my face.”

Fireworks boom outside the window, but you only see Ransom.  His mouth chases your tits, just so he can give your buds a nibble.  “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy wouldn’t let you come earlier today, because it makes you that much more needy.  It hasn’t been that long, and I feel your pussy fluttering around me.  My god, I don’t even think I can last.”

BOOM, “Daddy!”

“Tell me what you need, Princess.  Let daddy give it to you.”

BOOM!  POP!  “Daddy!”

“You keep getting louder.  They can’t hear you.  Tell daddy what you want.”

“Daddy!  I wanna come!  Daddy, let me come!”

“Your daddy will make sure you come,” Andy steps up behind you, those thick arms wrapping around your stomach.  One hand spreads your lips further apart, while the other starts making tight circles over your clit.  “Does my sweet girl wanna come?”

“Yes!  Daddy, I wanna come!”

“Woah, woah.  I’m daddy, and this is my princess,” Ransom pouts up at his best friend.  He knew letting Andy watch was a bad idea.  Sick bastard.

“Daddy is gonna help you come,” Andy moans, while you continue to ride Ransom, Andy has got you feeling like you're flying.  Overstimulated, and then he starts to kiss along your neck, while Ransom starts sucking on your tit.  His other hand rolls your nipples between his fingers.  Everything felt good.  Every part of you feels so fucking good.  Your skin is buzzing with euphoria.  “Go on, Princess.  Come.  Daddy’s gonna let you come.”

“Daddy!” You scream as your leg starts trembling.  “Daddy!  Daddy I’m coming!  I’m coming!”  

“Fuck, Andy, she’s got me in a vice grip.  Squeezing me so fucking hard.  There, baby.  Keep riding daddy, yeah!  Fuck yeah!” You moan as Ransom spurts creamy ribbons of his thick cum deep into your core.  Your walls pulse around him, milking every bit of his spend out on him.  “Fuck me!”

“I believe she just did.  Princess, you okay?” You get a dopey smile on your face, whispering yes.  “That was incredible.  How long have you two been fucking?”

“Just this once, Andy.  Now, I let you play with your daughter a bit, but why don’t you let me clean her up.  You’re married.  Don’t need to be fucking your daughter anyways.”

“Quit calling her my daughter!  She’s not my real daughter,” your eyes start to slowly close as you let your high wash over you.  You had him.  He was still in you.  He had filled you up, and it feels so fucking good.

“You’re just saying that because you want to fuck her.  You,” both men stop when you get up, and lay on the bed on your back.  “Princess, why don’t you spread your legs,” your eyes fully close, and you spread your legs.  Putting your gaping cunt on display for both men.  

They stare at your pretty and stretched out channel, and when Ransom's cum starts to leak out, they both gasp.  “My god if that isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s on birth control.  Her mom was scared she was sleeping around too much in college.  Let me guess, that was your doing?”

“Yeah, I don’t do virgins.  They get attached too easily.  Plus, I had her riding daddy’s cock like her life depended on it.  Could you see how deep she took me from your angle?”

“Yes,” Andy rolls his eyes.  “Saw you destroying her pussy.”

“Just wait until I fuck her.  Mmm, my cock is getting hard again.  If you don’t want to see me fuck your daughter in her sleep, I suggest you leave now.  Because I’m going to fuck that slut right into the mattress.  It’s too soon to share her.  You were supposed to just watch.”

Andy Barber never just watches.  He would fuck you too.  He’d make Ransom watch as he pounds into you.  Instead of going to you, Ransom grabs up a pen, “What are you doing?”

“Reminding her,” he says, scribbling ‘obedient’ on one inner thigh.  ‘Good girl’ written on the other.  “Princess, who owns your pussy?”

“You do, daddy.  That’s daddy’s pussy,” Ransom looks back at his friend with a smile.  “It’s all daddy’s.  Whenever daddy wants it.”

“Daddy’s cumdump?”

“Uh huh,” you smile as he writes cumdump on your belly.

“Daddy's pretty little cum princess.”

“Yep,” Andy stomps out of the room, making sure to slam the door.  And you pout up at Ransom.

“He’s just jealous that I’m going to pump you so full of cum, you won’t know what to do with yourself.  My pretty little princess cumslut.”

“Just daddy’s.”

“Unless daddy wants to share?”

“Unless daddy wants to share,” oh Ransom is going to have too much fun with you.  His personal little sex toy.  One he was going to have a lot of fun playing with.  And showing off.  His little fuckdoll that wanted him to do whatever he wanted.  And he would.  “Daddy, I’m sleepy.”

“You want daddy to hold you while you take a nap?” Nodding your head, you make grabby hands up at Ransom, and he crawls into the bed beside you.  “Okay, get some sleep, Princess.  You gotta be rested, so I can fuck you, right?”

“Right.  Shh.”

“I know.  Sleep.  Dream.  And I’ll be right here.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @maroonsunrise83​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​

#i'm not supposed to play with boys #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #DBF!Ransom drysdale #dbf!ransom #dbf!ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fics #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans character

[krirebr]

More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

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#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #steve rogers #knives out #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #ce characters

[likeahorribledream]

new guy

» CHAPTER NINE: STORM IS COMING

CHAPTER EIGHT

SUMMARY: Turns out you and Ransom don't necessarily have the same goal for your relationship.

PAIRING: Ransom x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst. New Girl AU.

REQUEST: Librarian!Reader, she’s shy and insecure about her appearance.

18+. Minors DNI.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

All his life Ransom has heard people around him complain about how quickly the weekends go by and that they all hate Monday mornings but he never understood why. He thought that by getting a job he'd finally understand but he doesn't. He loves the weekend because he can sleep in with his girl but he also loves week days. 

His alarm doesn't bother him because he's usually already awake to gently wake you up instead of the very annoying sound coming from the alarm clock on your phone. Your alarm goes off at 7, but he wakes you up at 6:59 every morning.

Neither of you talk aside from mumbling a quick "good morning". You aren't morning people and you both love your peace and quiet after waking up. 

Ransom loves mornings just because you're a little grumpy and cuddly. It's not unusual for you to stop in the middle of a task just to get a hug from him before going back to getting ready. 

Then, he gets to spend the entire day with you at work and watching you share your love of books with other people. Watching you recommend books is one of his favorite things. The way your eyes light up when you're talking and how you can't stop smiling make him melt. 

Going to work is never a chore because he gets to do it with you. 

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd ever be the kind of guy to one, be in a relationship and two, be obsessed with a girl and yet here he is. 

Harlan cutting him off changed him but meeting you transformed him. He's glad he met you after losing everything because otherwise he probably wouldn't have looked at you twice, he would have been too busy chasing other girls to notice you. He wasn't good enough for you back then, he still doesn't think that he is now but he works at himself every day to change that. 

Some may say that Ransom isn't Ransom anymore but he'd argue that he's never been more himself than he is now. 

Going to work is never a chore but he still looks forward to the weekend. 

You promised to teach him how to cook on Saturday morning and it's something new that he's looking forward to. 

If his family could see him now. Selfish, trust-fund asshole Ransom Drysdale learning to cook from a girl, from his girl. They would hate every second of it and for the first time in his life Ransom could say that he genuinely doesn't care what they think. 

Every day that he wakes up this week means it's a day closer to Saturday morning and he's excited, which you think is adorable. 

Sometimes he reminds you of a child. In the sense that he gets excited for the most basic things and you find it endearing. It makes your heart ache that no one ever took the time to show him those things but you're glad that you get to be the one to teach him. They make fond little memories that you will look back to in years and smile as you think of them. 

You feel bad for not spending as much time with Chase and Theo as you used to but they don't mind. You're happy, happier than they have ever seen you before and that's all that matters to them. 

With the week finally over and work out of the way, you can finally relax and have fun with the guys. It's been a while since you've done a Friday game night and that's exactly what you're doing tonight. Take outs and board games. Ransom didn't really feel like playing so instead he's sitting on the couch, scrolling through breakfast recipes on his phone while the three of you are sitting on the floor around the coffee table. 

"Theo." You laugh. "Stop showing me your cards! I'm cheating and it's not even on purpose." You shake your head.

You've been playing for an hour and it's the fourth time you've had to tell Theo to hide his cards. He's too busy bickering with Chase to even notice what he's doing. 

Ransom gets off the couch and stands next to you, looking down at you. "Can we go to bed?"

You look up at him. "You don't want to play with us?" 

"Not really, no." He shrugs. 

"I'm having fun, I don't want to go to bed yet." You sigh and put down your cards. 

"Alright. Can I snuggle while you play?"

You smile. "Best of both worlds." 

Ransom sits on the floor between you and the couch, resting his back against it as you lean back into him. 

"Never in a million year did I ever think I'd see Ransom ask to snuggle." Theo says after watching your exchange with Ransom. 

"Why not?" Ransom asks as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

Theo shrugs and shakes his head. "You don't strike me as the cuddling type." 

"Guys usually tend to hide their soft side." Chase adds.

Ransom snorts and shakes his head disapprovingly. "I've never cared about what other people think of me and I've never let their opinions stop me from doing what I want. Am I supposed to keep my hands to myself or pretend like I don't care about my girl because otherwise people are going to be uncomfortable? Fuck that, that's dumb." 

You bite back a smile and turn your head to the side to kiss his cheek. 

"That's good." Chase nods, approving of Ransom's way of thinking. "The guys before you thought the opposite, it's nice to see that you actually care." 

You clear your throat, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. "Can we not talk about that?" You ask quietly, picking at your cards and avoiding eye contact. 

"That's because she needed a man." He peppers your neck with kisses and grins at the sound of your laughter. 

"I need one of those too." Theo mumbles under his breath. 

"Not this one." You warn him. 

"Your brother then?" Theo smirks playfully.

"There are so many men out there, does it really have to be my brother?" You whine.

"Yes! He's sweet and funny." 

"And hot." Chase adds.

"So hot." Theo sighs dreamily. 

You point a finger at Chase. "Don't encourage him." 

"Looks like Theo's going to be your brother-in-law." Ransom teases you. 

You turn to the side to look at him. "You do know that means you and Theo will technically be family." You ask, raising a brow. 

He stops laughing and looks at Theo. "Stay the fuck away from her brother."

Theo gasps. "That's no way to talk to your future brother-in-law, Ranny." 

"Don't call me that." 

You and Chase exchange a look before rolling your eyes. Ransom can pretend all he wants but everyone knows he adores Theo just like Theo adores him. For some reason they like to bicker. Constantly. It's like they are making up for all those years they were brother less.

You collect everyone's cards while they keep fighting and put them back in the box, clearly you're done playing for tonight. Ransom sees that you're moving to get up and helps you stand. 

"Where are you going, kitten?" 

"To bed, are you coming?" You hold out your hand.

He takes it right away and hurries to his feet. 

"Good night." You say to your friends before leading Ransom out of the living room to his room. 

You lie down under his covers together, he's holding you close to his chest as he spoons you. He lovingly kisses the skin of your shoulder and of the side of your neck. 

"Are you tired?" 

You nod and turn your head to the side to try and catch a glimpse of him. "You?"

"I'm beat." He moves his hand to your cheek to hold your head to the side. He brushes his nose against yours and smiles softly before leaning down to kiss you. "Good night my love." He whispers between two kisses, making you smile.

You cover his hand on your cheek with yours, not hesitating to press your lips to his. "Good night baby." You whisper back once he gives you a chance to breathe again. 

He moves his hand down from your cheek and instead lays it flat on your chest, right above your heart. He waits for you to turn back your head to bury his in your neck. It doesn't take long at all for sleep to find you both once you're comfortable and all wrapped up around each other.

Surprisingly enough, you manage to stay in that exact position all through the night. It doesn't look like either of you moved even an inch. 

You wake up first but you don't move or open your eyes, enjoying every second of being in Ransom's warmth and arms.

Ransom lets out a small content sigh as he wakes up. He doesn't need to open his eyes or look at you to know that you're already awake and he smiles.

"Good morning." He whispers against your neck, his voice low and dripping with sleep. 

You smile and move your hand to his hair, gently scratching his head as you run your fingers through his hair. It's longer than when he first moved in and he uses a lot less products to keep it perfectly styled all the time, which you love because they are fluffier and softer. Especially in the morning. "Good morning." You say softly. 

You stay like this for a few more minutes before speaking again. "I'm sorry Ran but I need to move. The leg that's under me is cramping up." You laugh quietly. 

He chuckles and moves to give you enough space to lie on your back instead. Ransom comes to lie on top of you, settling himself between your legs as he holds himself up on his elbows to make sure he doesn't crush you. 

"Better?" He leans down to give both of your cheeks a kiss. 

"Much." You giggle at his kisses. "You woke up into a cuddly mood this morning." 

"Too much?" He looks down at you, worried he might be overdoing it.

You quickly shake your head no. "I like it." You reassure him with a smile.

"Can we go make breakfast and come back to bed after eating? I don't want to move but I'm starving." He huffs, slightly annoyed that he needs to get up.

"It's Saturday, we can do whatever we want." You smile. 

"Kiss." He purses his lips, making you laugh.

You put your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, enough to reach his lips and kiss him softly. 

He grins and sits up, taking you with him. "I want more of this but after breakfast." 

"Don't ever say I like food more than you again, look who is choosing food over cuddling and kissing." You stick your tongue out before getting out of bed and stretching your arms above your head.

Ransom kneels on the bed behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Want me to starve for you, kitten? You say the word and I will. I'll starve to death if I have to." He gently bites your neck. 

You laugh. "So dramatic." You tease him. "No need to starve." You slip out of his hold before he has time to stop you and make your way to the door. "But don't expect kisses later. You chose food over me, you are gonna have to deal with the consequences." 

"Alright, come back here." Ransom gets out of bed to stop you from leaving but you're too quick.

You hurry to the kitchen and give him a cheeky grin. "Too slow, old man."

"You're lucky you're so fucking cute." He kisses your cheek and helps you set up. 

"What do you want to make?" You ask him, standing in front of the fridge to take out what you need for the recipe he chose.

"Pancakes? It seems like a pretty easy thing to do." 

"Easy and delicious." You bring all the ingredients you're going to need and put them down on the kitchen island. "I'm going to let you make them, I'll just tell you the steps." 

Normally making pancake batter takes you about two minutes but Ransom is really taking his time and you're letting him go at his own pace. 

Chase and Theo join you in the kitchen, their stomachs already growling. 

"Mom and dad are making us pancakes." Theo says to Chase, teasing you. 

You and Ransom both laugh at the same time except in very different ways. You laugh genuinely but Ransom sounds more like he's heard something stupid.

"That's not gonna happen." He shakes his head and chuckles before flipping the first pancake.

"What's not gonna happen?" You're pretty sure you already know the answer but you need to hear him say it. 

Ransom shrugs. "I'm not having kids." 

He's so focused on not burning anything that he misses the moment you get crushed by his words.  

"You don't want kids?" You stare at his back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Nope." He says, emphasizing on the "p" sound. 

Your eyes fall to the ground and you stare at the floor, not knowing what to say. 

Theo and Chase keep glancing at each other and silently decide to leave the kitchen to go into Chase's room. 

Ransom feels the weird shift in the air and turns around, surprised to see you standing behind him. 

"Kitten, are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost." He smiles in the hope it'll make you smile but you give him nothing. He turns off the stove and walks over to you, gently putting his hands on your shoulders. "What's wrong?" 

"I want to have kids." You say quietly, avoiding looking into his eyes. 

"Oh." He clears his throat. 

"Yeah." You take a few steps back and he lets go of you, his hands dropping back to his side. "Are you sure?" You hesitate to ask but the pain in your chest is making you desperate.

"Are you?" He keeps looking directly at you while you do everything in your power to avoid eye contact.

"I'm more than sure." You finally look up and the pain in your eyes knocks the wind out of his lungs. 

"You know me, you know of my family… We're not good people. It's in our DNA. I'm not going to add another selfish asshole to our family tree. I can't." 

You understand why he doesn't want kids, you really do. You don't blame him for thinking this way. "You're not like them, Ran. You wouldn't be like your dad-"

"Look, maybe I'll change my mind in like 10 years. We have time, right?"

"No, you do. I don't. What happens if in 10 years you change your mind and it's too late? What if I get pregnant before then and you resent me for the next 18 years?" You shake your head. "I'm willing to compromise about a lot of things but not this. I'm sorry." You walk around the kitchen island and head to your room, swallowing with difficulty because of the lump in your throat, rapidly forming from your unshed tears and heartache. 

Ransom follows you. "Why can't I be enough for you?"

You sit on your bed and take in a few shaky breaths. "You are enough, more than enough." 

"Then we don't need kids." He nervously runs his fingers through his hair.

"I do." You quickly wipe off the tear that escapes at the corner of your eye. "I don't know how to explain it, I just know that I do. I've known since I was teenager. It's the one thing in my life I've always been sure of. It's not because you're not enough, it's just… different." 

"Aren't we happy just the two of us together?" He is getting desperate as he gets a bad feeling about where this conversation is headed.

"We are." You nod. 

"Then why risk messing it up?" He kneels on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs with a pleading look in his eyes.

You smile sadly down at him and stroke his cheek with your hand. "I don't see having kids as a risk of messing things up, for me having kids is adding to my happiness." 

Ransom wipes angrily at his cheeks, he doesn't even know when he started crying. He stands up and looks down at you, holding back more tears. "So that's it then? We're done?" 

"I don't know." You answer sincerely. "I don't want us to be done." 

He stares at you then leaves your room. He storms out of the loft and slams the door as he goes, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the first floor and outside. 

You slowly stand up and walk over to your door to close it quietly before heading back to bed. You jump at the sound of the front door being slammed shut and quickly crawl into bed, hiding under your covers. You finally let the tears come out, hoping it will help soothe the soul crushing pain in your heart. 

It doesn't. 

Ransom pulls out his phone from his pocket, not caring that he's only wearing sweats and a coat outside. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the person he's looking for. He lifts his phone to his ear as it starts to ring and he's relieved when the other person picks up almost instantly.

"Can I come over to your place? I really need to see you."

Lordy lord. It's been awhile.... This was written a long LONG time ago. I haven't edited anything I'm sorry. If you're one of the few that stuck around for this story, thank you and I promise there's more to come.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x female!reader #reader insert #hugh ransom drysdale #hugh drysdale #knives out #knives out fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans character #chris evans characters #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale angst #soft!ransom #soft!ransom drysdale #soft ransom drysdale #new guy #new guy series

[anika-ann]

Little Miss Red (R.D.)

Type: blurb, one-shot, drabble (for me it's drabble-length okay)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader          Word count: 1800

Summary: Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight.

When you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Warnings: NSFW FILTH, 18+, smut!!! I mean it. Filth, y’all. Fingering, oral sex. Written in Ransom’s voice, so language and greyish lizard brain. Hints of degradation, praise kink and innocence kink.

A/N: this is COMPLETELY on @chase-your-dreams-away who claimed she has no time to write it after just throwing the plot bunny out here with @murdock-and-the-sea supporting her.

A/N: divider by amazing @firefly-graphics; the title of the fic does not refer to dd/lg dynamics nor the actual body proportions of the reader

Ransom knew he was going to have fun with you the moment you walked through the door.

A little unsteady on your feet, but deeply embarrassed expression coating your face when you stumbled and swiftly righted yourself; unsure on your high heels, not drunk out of your mind. Little red dress hugging your ass and not much else lower, the hem riding up higher than midthigh as it had probably been intended, your hands quick to remedy it. Cheap make-up which he could spot a mile away, a courtesy of being the child of small-business-loving mother.

You looked so out of place in the luxurious club and so out of your debt that Ransom knew he wanted to play cat and mouse with you.

Except you were definitely a kitten; there was no arguing it later when you nervously tasted the head of his cock, shy kitten licks turning into a small purr around his head when you tried to wrap your lips around him, clearly doing so for the first time.

He knew that was what you were looking for when you came in. He was good at reading people – that was what made him so good at his game. Your sinfully red lipstick spoke for itself and he predicted that the night was going to end up with that colour smeared all over him, with mascara running down your cheeks. He had you blinking up at him with tender wonder and want with just a few sweet words and lured you in into the private saloon with a promise of a good time and being a gentleman.

When his mouth found yours after two minutes of idle meaningless chitchat, you had smiled contentedly into the kiss. Your breath quickened as soon as his tongue pushed between your lips, a silent squeak into his mouth – but leaning into his touch eagerly, heart like a cute little hummingbird – when his hands started wandering to your breasts, so prettily wrapped in the crimson dress. Yes. You might be of limited experience and playing coy, but you came here for one thing and Ransom was happy to give it as long as he got to take from you much more.

You responded to even the faintest touch. When he ran his fingers through your folds over the absurdly thin excuse for an underwear, you were already soaking and fuck, the needy whine that escaped your swollen lips when he circled your puffy nub… it almost made him cum in his damn pants. He was going to eat you up.

If he wasn’t so determined to see your red mouth around him, he’d take your cunt. She was sucking his fingers right in, greedy for more, and yet it was almost as tight as if you were a virgin and was just as sensitive. He’d know; he had taken plenty. He loved stealing their innocence, ruining them for other men. He breathed in the power he gained when he was the first to claim that territory, all warm, wet and so damn snug; having them cry his name as their pain, that delicious pain he both caused and took away, blended into pleasure and pleas for more. Breathy. Needy. Begging so sweet and filthy, obscenities spilling from those good girl lips that had trembled a bit at the size of his cock and yet took it so well.  

You asked for more too, weak voice coming out in gasps as he stuffed the third finger in, the squelch of your juices filling the space and sending blood straight under his belt. By the time you were trapping his fingers in with how hard he made you cum, he was ready to burst the second you’d take him to your throat. It was a thrilling game of control and self-control; and he’d always win.

You were a fast learner. After paying attention to the head, you took him in and sucked experimentally, eyes fluttering shut when he placed his big hand on your nape, encouraging you to take more. And so you did. Fast learner; eager learner. Ransom loved them eager to please him, especially when they were first timers, face all flushed at the mere suggestion of sucking him off at first. Now? Your nose was on his pubic bone, hair ruffled from how he gripped you close for his tip to brush your throat, your pretty cheap make-up running, lipstick all where he needed it.

As a bonus, you clawed your hands on him all over; over his thighs, over his ass, pushing away and pulling closer, your hips bucking forward in search of friction. And fuck if that didn’t get him going; his Little Miss Red enjoyed the hell out of sucking a cock and choking at it, gagging and grabbing at him as if she didn’t feel him deep enough. Who would have thought.

“That’s it, kitten, that’s it, take my load…” he coaxed you and caressed your hair with his free hand, lost to the vibration around him when you hummed in agreement, purring like a little obedient affection-hungry kitten indeed.

“Oh baby, look at you, a good little girl acting like such a whore for a big cock, hm? Fucking love that virgin mouth. Look at the mess you’re making of yourself for me.”

You had. You struggled to swallow and breathe, saliva pooling and escaping your mouth but damn, you were so excited to do better, holding onto his ass, his inner thighs, trying to brush your weepy core against his shin to earn some of that friction you so obviously craved.

Your fingers stroked over his balls and he spilled down your throat with a satisfied groan, fingers in your hair flexing to keep you there and swallow it all as you coughed and sputters, more black streaks painted your pretty face, throat spasming with a choked sound.

You curiously left him in your mouth as he softened, that little experimental lick almost enough for him to get hard again. He pulled you up and walked back to the couch to tug you into his lap, claiming your mouth with his own, tasting his victory in the salty tang on your tongue. What a sweet picture you made; a fucked out mess, eager for more, innocence ruined. He almost took a photo to make the euphoria last longer.

But you got shy again, all wide-eyed, when he pulled out a wipe from his breast pocket, spitting a bit to clean your face up from the worst smudges.

“Told you I’d be a gentleman, didn’t I, kitten? Can’t have you walk around the club like this, everyone would know what you’ve been up to,” he smirked, cock twitching at your meek thank you and the little spark in your eye that told him that you might like that. You might enjoy other people knowing what was in your mouth and now in your belly, wear your ruined cute face like a badge of honour.

Fuck, he could keep you. If he only cared enough for the shit that came with keeping just one girl at his arm. Keeping anyone, really.

Your legs were a little wobbly after he tested you were wet for him again and you buckled into his touch, but he sent you walking out with your purse all alone, satisfied for the night – or at least half of it. Still sprawled on the couch, he tucked himself in and gathered his breath and composure before he returned to the few bearable members of his fraternity fraction. They hit up a club every once in a while, a little hunting trip for pussy. The one who’d score first during the night out paid for the drinks.

Ransom’s smirk widened as he stepped back into the main room. He had no doubt he was the winner tonight; that feeling was damn worth the few hundred bucks he’d pull out of his Valentino-

The smirk slipped from his face when all his palm was the fabric of his empty pocket, his lips parting with mute shock, anger flaring up in an instant.

“Son of bitch-“

His head snapped up, instinctively searching for you; and finding you by the entrance again. You smiled at him sweetly, one corner of your sinfully red lips higher in a smirk as you waved his wallet at him. He froze mid-step.

Blowing him a cheeky kiss, you dropped your timid demeanour like a paper-thin mask, letting it drift towards the floor as slowly as you sunk to your knees for him.

An act. He had fallen for a cheap fucking act. You were no first timer; you were far from shy, apparently.

With bitter clarity, he recalled your hands clawing at his ass when he had thought he had it all under his control, including you, as you struggled to breathe. Your throat spasmed so sweetly, showing him heaven, while he dragged you to hell.

Or he had believed so. Now, watching you disappear behind the door as if you had been nothing but a fever dream, it was easy to see it was the other way around; or maybe you were both going to hell already.

A fist bumped into his shoulder, laughter of his wannabe friends reaching his ears.

“Well, well, well, looks like someone already scored tonight,” Harold howled, cackling as other guys booed and whistled. “Drinks are on Drysdale tonight, y’all!”

Oh Ransom would be drinking tonight, alright. Son of a bitch. That little, little bitch.

“She stole my wallet,” Ransom muttered, barely audible, still hypnotizing the door as if you were to come back. Yeah right.

“Wait what? Dude! You gotta block your credit card and call the cops before she buys a fucking Ferrari at your expense or something! Come on!”

The outrage in his Bryan’s voice snapped Ransom from his stupor, his head slowly turning to the man who spoke the sound advice.

The image of the check Little Miss Red buying a luxury sports car just as red for his money. It should strike him with terror. It should make his blood boil. It should make him want to grab your cute little neck and choke the life out of you.

But his surprise and exasperation gradually blended into the strangest feeling of pride.

You participated in his game of cat and mouse; you were the kitten. You were the cat.

You won fair and square even as both of you played more than dirty.

He could respect that.

“Nah. I’ll let her have it for a bit. It’s kinda like having a sugar baby…” Ransom mused, shrugging it off. “When she least expects it, I’m gonna find her and make her show how sorry she is. …or maybe make her my sugar thing for real. I mean… those lips looked really pretty around my dick after all.”

Mics masterlist

Yeah, the stealing the wallet bit and Ransom kinda respecting the reader for it was the “innocent remark” @chase and @murdock came with and my brain went hggggnnnn, because yeah, he would.

Thank you for reading. I'm gonna go bath in holy water, excuse me.

(the convo that inspired this filth... we know he would)

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale fanfiction #LEMONS #lemony lemons #little miss red #anika ann

[holylulusworld]

The widow (2)

Summary: You trust no one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions death of a loved-one, mentions of s miscarriage (no description), the reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst, grief

The widow masterlist

The Widow (1)

Over the next few days, you stayed in your bedroom. The confrontation with Bucky, and defending your dead husband drained all the energy you had left from your body.

You lost your appetite and didn’t even try to get up from bed to have a shower. It’s not a secret that you reek, and need to clean yourself up but you just can’t find the strength to do more than mourn the loss of Ransom all over again.

“She didn’t leave the room for days?” Sam throws his hands up. “I know you and her were butting heads from the moment you met, but we are responsible for her. Y/N had nothing to do with her husband’s crimes. She’s an innocent victim and lost more than her husband that day.”

“What else did she lose, huh?” Bucky huffs. “The money? Or all the shiny things. Maybe her pretty dresses and expensive shoes.”

“Bucky, why are you so angry at her?” Sam questions. “From the very beginning, you attacked her without a reason.”

“Because she’s a spoiled brat and cries over her criminal husband. I lost people too – good people. People who protected people all her life!”

“Her husband was a good person too,” Sam gets louder and starts to argue with his hands. “He did everything to protect his wife. Ransom Drysdale committed most of the crimes he got arrested for after they threatened his wife.”

“That’s what he told the cops.” Bucky sneers. He still doesn’t believe you and your husband got tricked by his business partners.

“Bucky, I know blaming you for your past was a low blow,” Sam’s features soften, and he puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “But man, she’s an innocent bystander, and she’s grieving. Y/N did not only lose her husband that day, but her unborn child too. Her future got ripped out of her hands by the people claiming to protect them.”

Bucky feels like someone punched him in the guts. He looks at Sam, feeling like a monster. “Her baby?”  

“Ransom protected her with his body, but she still got shot,” Sam lowers his voice. “One of the bullets hit her belly and…”

“She lost the baby,” Bucky whispers, as he looks anywhere but at Sam. “You should’ve told me so, Sam.”

“Why? Only because she lost her baby doesn’t make her a saint,” Sam can’t help but snap at his friend. “I didn’t think her losses would stop you from blaming her for all the things happening to her.”

“Sam, I’m not like that.” Bucky tries to argue. “ You know that.”

“Yeah?” Sam cocks his head and looks Bucky up and down. “How about you prove you are not a stubborn and unfair bastard.”

“I still don’t like her,” Bucky points his index finger at Sam. “But I’ll try to do better.”

Bucky enters your room after he knocks a few times. You didn’t tell him to get fucked as usual and he’s worried you tried to escape or worse, hurt yourself.

“I’m coming in,” he says and opens the door. Bucky finds it unlocked because you didn’t want him to tear the door down for a third time. “I hope you are dressed.”

He waits for a heartbeat, and another before finally stepping inside the room. 

“Sam is downstairs and needs to talk to you. They will be here in a few days to hear your statement.”

Bucky walks toward the bed, finding you in the same position as last time he sneaked inside your room to check if you are still alive.

“Come on, don’t be a brat, redress, and come downstairs for breakfast.”

You don’t react. All you do is stare at the wall and wallow in your pain.

“G-et fucked,” your voice cracks, but you at least tried to get rid of him. 

“There she is,” he says and walks around the bed to crouch down right in front of you. Bucky frowns deeply. You are still staring at the wall. “You need to get up and have a shower.” He scrunches up his nose. “When was the last time you showered?”

“Get fucked.”

“Doll, that’s not what’s going to happen,” he carefully moves closer to drag the blanket off your body. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. “You need a shower and food. If you don’t get out of the bed yourself, I’ll grab you and put you under the spray.”

You huff. “Just let me rot in dirt and smell. You don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Yeah, but you smell bad, and I don’t want Sam to get mad at me,” he smirks when you turn your back on him. “Oh, we are on cold-shoulder terms already. Good. That’s progress.”

You don’t like that he’s talkative today. Something must’ve happened, and you wonder what your prison guard is up to today. “Let me sleep.”

“You slept enough over the last days,” he says and grasps for you. You’re too tired and weak to fight him. You end up in his arms. 

“Let me down,” you say, and wiggle in his grip, but you don’t stand a chance against a super-soldier. Bucky carries inside the bathroom, laughing as you throw insults at him. “Let me down! I won’t tell you twice!”

“You already did, doll.” He carefully puts you on your feet but blocks your path. “You’ve got two options. Number one, I’ll leave the bathroom and you have a shower. Number two, you act like a brat, and I’ll scrub your smelly ass clean.”

“You wouldn’t dare putting your hands on me!” Your nostrils flare, and you’re about to attack a much stronger opponent.

“Have a shower, and I’ll change the sheets. Sam brought you fresh clothes and toiletries.” Bucky turns to leave. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get clean, or I’ll take down the door and scrub you clean.”

“Get fucked,” you weakly reply. Today is not the best day for a fight or any kind of interaction with other people. You only want to go back to bed and hide from the world.

Bucky glances at you one last time before leaving the bathroom. Something seems to be off with you, but he doesn’t have the time nor the patience to ask you what’s wrong.

“Y/N, hi,” Sam walks toward you to tell you about the latest development in your husband’s case. “How have you been?”

You shrug and walk past Sam.

“You could at least answer his damn question.” Bucky curses himself for his slip of the tongue. He promised Sam to try better and just started a fight again.

You yawn and walk toward the small kitchenette. “He’s still my prison guard, and my husband is still dead. Everything remains the same. What about you? Any plans on killing me yet?”

Bucky watches you grab a bottle of water and an apple before you walk back upstairs to hide in your bedroom. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Bucky frowns deeply. He was waiting for a snarky comeback or a witty comment coming from you.

“Bucky, leave her alone,” Sam shakes his head. “Today is her wedding anniversary. It’s the worst day to mess with her. Give her time and space.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #The widow (2) #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[ronearoundblindly]

ALSO from the kiss list: ransom and #45, 46, or 47???? ur ransom from the root of all ransom is so 😩😩🫠🫠🫠🫠

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader from The Root of All Ransom series

Out of Spite, one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024

Summary: Ransom's childhood home gets sold in his parents' divorce. The first time you see it is the last time he ever will.

Warnings for cursing and dirty memories from our boi. DEEP FEELS. If you've never read any RoAR, that's fine! You just need to know that Ransom is a filthy, bitter man who used to defile his parent's house any chance he got. Oh! And that Harlan did tell Linda (Ran's mom) about Richard's (Ran's dad) cheating. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for you on my Light Masterlist, but this one is not for you! WC 1746

He didn’t think he’d feel this way.

Everything is different but exactly the same.

Ransom can remember when this house was a happy place. Of course, it felt that way only when he was very young and really stupid. He actually thought his parents loved each other back then.

Fucking idiot.

He learned quickly though. Once he paid attention, that’s when he saw. His father didn’t look at his mother that way; Richard looked timid or indifferent, waiting for the money decisions he floated to be approved, waiting to make sure Linda hadn’t stumbled on some evidence of his indiscretions. Meanwhile, Linda…worked. That was it. She just worked.

A child sees that. Whether they are ready to or not, a child sees.

Ransom didn’t understood why that sort of relationship was so fucking infuriating—because if that’s your relationship, don’t have a fucking child,—but he saw.

Just like fashion and furniture and people, he can tell in one look what he doesn’t want.

He doesn’t want…whatever the fuck this was.

Ran drags his hand over the polished wood banister to lead you upstairs to his old bedroom. It’s now a gym, and in a month, who knows, because in his parents’ divorce, the house is getting sold. His dad has ten more days to move out.

Unsurprisingly, nothing has been packed yet. Richard pays someone else to do that, like he and Linda paid someone else (many other people) to raise Ransom.

He didn’t think he’d feel this way on the last occasion he’d ever be in this house.

He’s hated it a long, long time. He used every opportunity he could to taint and tarnish everything from floor to decor, invisible marks of defiance that his parents never saw, or if they saw, they never understood.

Ransom doesn’t lack respect completely; he just lacks respect for them.

And yeah, to be fair, there are less than a handful of people on the planet he’s found he can respect, but he is capable. They just aren’t worthy, and he doesn’t fucking care.

He thought he’d feel anger or bitterness. He thought he’d feel a sense of justice, maybe, because this veneer of unity is finally being stripped away. He thought, at very least, he’d feel a marked disappointment because they could have done better. His parents are capable of better. They just fucking weren’t.

He feels…nothing.

He feels nothing when you two walk past the railing where his prom date, Candace, almost took a short drop and a sudden stop because she’s an adrenaline junkie and wanted him to fuck her while she held on with nothing but her acrylics. Ransom had to fake coming because he was so distracted by the thought of having to clean up that bitch’s brain from the foyer.

He feels nothing as you two traverse the hall where he terrorized the nannies, throwing whatever he could get his grubby fucking paws on and aiming for them every time.

He was awful; why doesn’t he feel awful?

He still feels nothing when he flicks on the light at the southernmost room and sees…no trace of the first nineteen years of his life. Maybe he feels nothing because there is nothing?

Ran told his mother, point blank, that she could burn anything he left behind for all he cared, and at the time, he didn’t care one iota. Those memories were not worth one red penny to him. He derived more joy from knowing what he’d done here and left for them to clean up than he did from any of the actual stuff.

That’s the thing. Even if the stuff didn’t bring him joy, that was all he had for nineteen years. Possessions hold value to him because emotions didn’t fucking exist in this house, unless you count denial, arrogance, and willful ignorance.

He’s so caught up in his emptiness, he’s forgotten all about speaking during this little tour.

You follow him around, silently, from room to room in a too big house that unsuccessfully contained the egos of only three people. No one was fucking happy. No one wanted to be there. Everyone had to be there, for appearances.

You rest your arm on his shoulder and run your fingers through the short hair at his neck, but you don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. He feels nothing.

And so you two head down to dinner with Richard, a bizarrely familial toast to the house before it’s on the market.

Ran’s father hasn’t cooked, mind you, because that would really be the cherry on the weird shit sundae. No, it’s a catered meal for three fucking people in a house owned by none of these three people.

However, if there’s one skill passed down through generations of Thrombeys and Drysdales alike, it’s ignoring anything going on around you that you don’t care about (and the not caring in the first place, so two skills). Ransom is a really skilled Thrombey and Drysdale.

He has no fucking idea what the conversation is about over the course—courses—of the meal, but he watches you in an awe that makes him feel sorta queazy. How can you still smile and nod at Richard? Ran reached his limit weeks ago, and you’re still barreling through what he can only imagine is the finest, superficial bullshittery the whole county has to offer.

Why?

Why are you here?

This place is not a fucking home. 

Why are you putting up with this? Why put up with him, for fuck’s sake?

But the emptiness swallows that outrage as fast as his mind can churn it out.

“Ya know, I think I’ll take my plate in,” you say sweetly to his father, standing, so there’s no argument to stop you. “I never got to peek at the kitchen.”

The help part like the sea for you.

Richard chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his drink. “Not sure I ever really peeked in there myself,” he mutters. 

“Please, allow me,” he hears you encourage from around the corner. “I’d like to look out the window.”

Ran mouths ‘window’ questioningly to Richard, who suddenly remembers that they redid the deck and added a pergola eight months ago. Ransom vaguely remembers his mother griping about contractors, but he didn’t listen to the details. He didn’t fucking care.

He’s up and heading for the kitchen before his father can offer to have dessert served outside.

Ransom, clearly in a mood, tells the caterers and wait staff fuck off to a different room when steps in. He has no clue if he knows them previous events. It doesn’t matter.

He’s engrossed, watching you rinse a plate in the sink, something so simple it hurts.

Because the kitchen, Ran thinks, is where you prove you can stand another person—you trust them with your food, they can know what you like, and you aren’t afraid of them in a small space with knives. This is the place where couples work together. They spend time getting things for each other, making things for each other, even when they don’t have to.

In that sense, this is not and never has been a kitchen. It’s a showroom, but tonight it showcases you.

He walks over and looks where you look. Beyond the reflective pane with your faces is a canopy of lights overlooking an open space the length of the house.

It’s beautiful, just one of many helpful additions made after he left. Some other family will get it now. Some other kid will enjoy it. For once, Ran wishes people he doesn’t know a happiness he never had. That’s new, too, that feeling.

Pride swells in Ransom. No one can take that from him.

He is not a good man, but he’s proud as fuck not to be his parents despite their indifference. It’s a miracle he isn’t exactly the same as Ol’ Dick in the dining room, alone, scared for what the future holds when the money runs out.

That was a near miss of fate, Ran remembers, because if he’d been backed into the same corner, if you hadn’t been there to offer a lifeline, he would have fought. He would have killed to survive.

That’s what he knew. That’s what he learned in this house. Fight. Kill. Show no emotion. It doesn’t matter anyway. Each man, woman, and child for themselves.

Richard and Linda live with the consequences of their actions; Ransom lives with the consequences of his parents.

He turns to you, a hand on your hip, and sees you warp you mouth in apology.

“Needed a break,” you admit quietly.

Ran snorts. “I hear that.”

“Just dessert and then home,” you hum. “No drinks outside, okay?”

Then it dawns on him. When he bought his current house, its true beauty was not being this one, but that’s not all anymore. Ran can make a house into a home. He can make himself into the home you deserve, the one he would have killed for.

This house may hold bad memories, but he can make new ones. Houses can be expanded, lit, and warmed. Space can be made to fit the needs of those using it.

His mind can do that, too. Ran can do that.

So, out of pure spite for the wretched monument all around him, he leans over with a smile and kisses you fiercely.

Such a simple thing. A new memory. One happy memory to bury in this dead place and leave forever.

He’ll go back to his home, with you, and get you water from the kitchen even if he doesn’t want any. He’ll watch you cook, and you’ll ask him to taste it or hand you things just a few feet away. You’ll sit in ‘his’ spot on the couch because the new place for him is with his head resting in your lap. He sees it all very clearly.

His parents were right about something: it doesn’t fucking matter. This house doesn’t have to matter to him. Only his real home should do that.

When dinner is over and you two shut yourselves into the Beamer, he looks back one final time.

He doesn’t have to care. He doesn’t have to feel anything. There will be empty spaces in his life, but that’s okay. That’s a consequence of living.

You voice Ransom’s innermost thoughts just before he turns the key in the ignition.

“Good fucking riddance.”

Jimmy Dobyne and a kiss in public ⬅️ ➡️ Steve Rogers and a kiss where it hurts

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @starkleila @tenaciousperfectionunknown @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @ellethespaceunicorn

#ro answers #valentine's day fanfic #the root of all ransom #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fluff

[botnasty]

Part One: Prologue

Pairing: Divorce Lawyer!Ari Levinson X Married!Reader, Husband!Ransom X Wife!Reader  

Summary: After years of misery, you finally decide to divorce your husband Ransom Drysdale, but unfortunately for the man is too proud to let you go. That’s when you met Ari Levinson, a divorce lawyer, with him you’ll finally be free of pain... right?

Words: 2.7K

Warning: ANGST, cheating, mention of cheating, mention of death, mention of psychological abuse, mention of abuse, divorce, hurt/comfort, beefy!Ari Levinson, size difference, size kink, mention of sex, 

Series Masterlist

You were doing it. You were finally doing it. After years of being miserable, of being a shell of who you used to be, you were breaking off the chain that Ransom placed around you with that ring. 

Before him, you loved life. You were living it at his fullest. Your friends, Marna and Sam, and you used to do all sorts of things together. You would go on hikes, try new cafe places after class and before going to your shared apartment, but what you liked the most was visiting the museum of Fine Art. you went once with your mother when you were a child and it had become immediately your favorite place. “It’s like you’re in a completely different world. Like the paintings were making you travel all around the world.” Is what your mother kept saying when describing how you were in that place, and she wasn’t wrong. It's what made you decide to study the history of art in college. It’s also where you met Ransom, which is why you haven’t been there in years. The place was now tainted with his memories.  

You loved Ransom, you really did. You thought you would’ve grown old with him and have a few kids, but after the marriage, it’s like he became a whole new man. Gone was the Ransom that called you Bunny, cuddled you to sleep and made love to you. Now he has become bitter, always angry at the world and you. Like every single inconvenience was because of you when all you wanted was to show him love. He made you stop going to school, stopped you from seeing your friends saying ‘they were a bad influence’ and just kept you almost locked in his mansion. 

Slowly but surely, you became a shell of who you were. You were now constantly on your toes around him, trying not to anger him and always watching what you were saying. If you spoke a little too loud, he would scream. If not loud enough, he would also scream. You couldn’t express yourself anymore.

Everything had faded. Every time you shoved love for something you were shamed, humiliated. All the emotions you felt were tossed to the side. You were not yourself, you were a doll for Ransom to toss everywhere and mold how he wanted.

What made you decide to finally break it all off was when you found out he had cheated on you for the fourth time in your own marital bed. Before it was just mark of lips on his clothes, parfum, the whole cliche thing, but now he had taken things a little too far.

You wish you were at her place, weren’t you?

Was what he said when you found the both of them, this girl on her hands and knees, back arching, as Ransom plowed into her from behind. Both were looking at you as they both continued. You just stared at them, not a feeling inside of you instead of shame for yourself. Shame for still being with this man after all he’s done to you. 

You had just sighed and closed the door behind you, not a tear in your eyes. Nothing. But that shame inside of you is what made you decide to get a divorce, but you didn’t know when to do it.

When Ransom was found guilty of killing his grandfather, which wasn’t surprising to you, the world was smiling at you. This was the perfect time. Your way out. When the day came that Ransom went to prison, instead of going with him to say your goodbye, you came here. 

Levinson’s Lawyer. 

You were doing it. you were gonna be free. 

You lightly tap your feet on the ground as the man in front of you named Ari Levinson, like what was written on the plate at the door, looked at your case. The man certainly didn’t look like a lawyer, with his long hair that stopped below his hair, his gruff beard and big very big build. The man was most likely twice your size and height. He was wearing a clean black tux with a white undershirt, slightly unbuttoned which made you able to see a little of his chest hair. The man seemed to be covered in hair everywhere. You saw him more as a lumberjack. You felt intimidated by him because you knew the man could probably crush you with one squeeze.

“So, I read here, Miss Drysdale, that you want to be divorced from Ransom Drysdale.” You cringed internally at the name he used. “Is that right?” The man looked at you with his blue eyes, his gaze a little too piercing to you so you looked down as you nodded. He went back to the paper. “And you don’t want anything that he owns which is a good thing. The man got some solid lawyers.”

You fidgeted with the wedding still on your fingers as you nodded once again. You knew very well he had powerful people by his side. He was Ransom Drysdale after all. The man came from old money and had people wanting to find dirt on him for years. “Yeah, I know that, Mr. Levinson, but we don't have a child together, we don’t have a shared account, don’t you think it could be easy?” You pleaded, your eyes finally finding his.

Ari signed and put the paper down. “Depends on the man, Miss. Drys–”

“Please, use my maiden name. I don’t want any association with that man. Please.”

Ari restarted, this time using your real name, making a little weight get off your shoulder. One step at the time. “We don’t know what he wants to do, right now. If the man wants to keep you, it could become messy, if he doesn’t then it would go smoothly.”

Ari put down the paper on his wooden desk and leaned. “But, let me tell you something, Miss. I hate abusers, so I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never see the man again.” A sob escaped you. 

Ari got up his chair and went around the desk. He crouched in front of you and took your hands in his. You gasped at how big they were compared to yours, at how warm and rough his skin was as he played with the wedding band. “Everything will go your way. I promise. You can even start to remove it already if you want.” He said, referring to your ring.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” You said in a sob and you threw yourself in his arms, his immediately enveloping you in a hug and pulling you closer to him. You were gonna be free and all thanks to this man. 

For some odd reason, you believed him. You believed the man in front of you and that’s why you felt safe in his arms. After years of tenseness, you melted finally and that was with this man. Your eyes widen at the realization. You barely knew the guy. 

Slowly, you let go of him and let him wipe your tears away and it took everything in you to keep a blank face. “Thank you again, Mister Levinson. ”You slowly got up and took your purse. “At what time would you be willing to go through the divorce paper?” Your hands were fidgeting inside your purse to look for your phone, you were now nervous around scared he would see through your act.

Ari looked baffled at you, at the immediate change of character, but went through with it. “This week, I’m fully booked, but I could leave you my phone number to call to schedule for next week?” Is all he asked, as he got up. 

You went to give him your phone to get his number, when your eyes bulged out and all resolved went down, the man was way taller than you expected. He was probably taller than 6’5 and you didn’t know how to feel about that, one part of you got scared while the other part made your pussy gush from how big he was.

 “You—“ Your voice cracked. “You can leave your number.” Ari took your phone from your hands, his finger brushing against making you inhale sharply. 

As he typed on your phone, your eyes went to his muscle bulging with each move. You hated your brain at this moment for making you feel all sorts of things for this man you literally just met. Sure, he looked like a Greek god and wanted to help you, but he could also have dark intentions. 

“There you go, sweetheart.” Now you are sure to remove your panties when you get home. The way he said sweetheart in his gruff voice is something literally out of a porno. your eyes widened as you looked at him smiling, like he knew what he did to you. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Tha- Thank you. I’ll call you next week.” You immediately shoved your phone in your purse and shuffled out, your eyes always avoiding his and with one thing in your mind: tonight was going to be a long night with your vibrator. 

You quickly escape the building, your heels hitting the ground with a loud noise. ‘I need to get out’ are the words that keep on repeating themselves in your mind. Just constantly. You were confused. What had just happened to you? Never in your life have you instantly felt so attracted to somebody you barely knew and that scared you.

You felt watched the whole journey from Mr, Levinson’s office to down in the lobby and you hated that. Eyes, many eyes were starring at you and you stopped yourself from hiding with your purse. You felt like you were going insane, but the moment you stepped outside, everything made sense.

A horde of paparazzi was there, waiting for you to come out. “What in the fuck?” You whispered to yourself. “I can’t get out. I can’t.” If they saw you and took pictures of you, you were sure someone at the prison would tell Ransom and you couldn’t afford that.

Not now. 

You jumped when your phone vibrated in your purse. Before all this, you used to always put your favorite song of the moment as a ringtone, but Ransom hated it and almost beat you up when it rang one day. So, to this day, it’s always on the silent mode. 

You fetched inside your purse. Anxiety coursed through you when it was an unknown number, but you still answered. “Hello?” You cautiously said.

“Miss? It’s Ari.” Ari?

“I don’t recall giving you my phone number? And we just spoke, I don’t understand the meaning of this call.” You sounded harsh and professional, trying to make your body understand that what it was doing wasn’t good. Making you horny and wet for this man wasn’t something you wanted or needed right now. 

“Take the door on the other side of the building.” Was all he said. “You can hide from the pictures there.”

You felt bad. The man only wanted to help you. “Thank you... I’m sorry. I’ll call you next week.”

You were about to end the call when Ari said your name. Not your family name. Your first name. Your ears couldn’t help but perk up at the sound. “I don’t know how those people found out you were here, but I’ll find the person and have a stern talk about client confidentiality.” Your breath was stuck inside you. Ari continued. “And you don’t have to excuse yourself. I know you must be in a hard situation at this moment.” You hummed in approval. “I’m here for you. Whenever.” With those last words, the call ended. 

That week was the worst week of your life. Somehow people found out you had gone to a divorce lawyer and like people say: words traveled fast. Every day, you had been followed everywhere, you received calls from the news, journalists and from the one person you didn’t want to talk to: Ransom. Somehow, probably because a guard spilled it to him, he found out about it too and wasted his one phone call a day to you, but each time you refused it. Dreading to hear what he has to say. 

You were tired, so tired. You had a feeling divorcing that man wouldn’t have been a joyful ride, but you didn’t think it would be hell. 

Every day, you would wake up to a dream about that giant lawyer with sweat all over your body, your underwear fully drenched and a little bit of shame for dreaming about the stranger like that, but the moment you saw all the notifications on your phone, all that pleasure and good feeling from the dream would just drain out of your body and reality settled in. 

Today was none different. You woke up with the dream still very vivid in your mind. His gruff voice telling you all the dirty things he wanted to do. 

Look at you barely able to take my cock. 

Such a sweet warm pussy, all mine. 

You’re all mine aren’t you, sweetheart. 

You bit your lips.

You really needed to get laid. 

You sighed and got up the bed to go-on with your days. After a good shower to remove all the remnants of your wetness in between your legs and your skin-care routine, you went downstairs for your breakfast.

You looked outside to see the weather and sighed. “Will they ever leave me alone?” Paparazzi. Loads and loads of them waiting for you to get out of your house. You closed the curtains and continued your journey to the kitchen to continue your morning. 

Just as the clock turned eleven. You decided it was finally time to call Ari for this meeting this week. As you pick up your phone, you cringe in the background. It was still a picture of you and Ransom on your second date when he kissed you on the cheek. Those were simpler times.

The phone rang in your ear. One, Two. Thr– “Hello?” His deep voice took you by surprise. 

“Mr. Levinson. It’s me.” You told him your name. You shivered when you heard him repeat it to you. “You-” Your throat became tighter with nervousness. “You said to call for the appointment?”

You heard shuffling in the background. “I did, indeed. If you would be willing. I am going to lunch right now. If you would like, you could join me and we could talk ‘bout it?”

You nodded and you wanted to slap yourself because he clearly couldn’t see you. “Yes, just send me the address and I’ll be there shortly.”

You could hear the smile as he responded. “Good, I’ll be seeing you soon, Miss.” And the phone disconnected.

A few moments later, you jumped as your phone rang once again. “Why is Ari calling again?” You unlock your phone and answer the call. “Hello, Mr. Levison? Is there a problem with the divorce paper?” You looked at the floor curiously as to why he wasn’t answering. All you could hear was breathing and shuffling. 

“Probably a butt dial.” You whispered.

“Oh no, bunny.” You froze, why did he start using that nickname, now, of all time. “It certainly isn’t. Been trying to reach you fo’ so long, bunny. So long. And now, since you finally answer you’ goddamn fucking phone.” You heard him take a deep breath. “You’re going to answer my questions. Why the fuck are you talking to Ari Levinson?”

Thank you so much for reading :) Feel free to reblog and tell me what you think. Also, I realize I’m kinda having a hard time with dialogue sometimes and I’m sorry for that, I’m slowly working on that.

Tags : @patzammit @elrw24​

#ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson smut #ari levinson angst #beefy!ari levinson #dilf!ari levinson #lawyer!ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #lawyer!ari levinson x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale angst #husband!ransom drysdale #husband!ranson x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom x reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #chirs evans smut #ari levinson au #ransom drysdale au #au #modern au

[jamneuromain]

Hello, beauty! Congrats on your follower milestone 🥳

A prompt for you: Ransom + 😌😏

Hi Siri😌❤️

Thank you for your love and support :3

ksjsjskskskks 😏 ←that lil smirk is so Ransom! Hoe-kay, for this I present to you:

Payback Time

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (you)

Summary: Ransom is getting his payback for you, public enemy No.1.

Warning: Step-cest tendency (Cousin!Ramson x Cousin!Reader), not blood related, they are both grown-ups, Ransom is being vengeful, Harlan is very much alive.

Harlan is going to kill him.

Not now, obviously, but when Harlan finds out about what he is doing to you.

Harlan is going to murder him and write this story into a book.

But it doesn't matter. Ransom hums in content, snuggling further under the covers, sighing due to the warm and softness of the bedding.

That old man grows fond of you by day, ever since you came to this mansion on your own with a suitcase of books and clothes. Ransom huffs in annoyance. If there's one thing he cannot stand, is a random person (aka you), materializing out of thin air, completely unrelated by blood or marriage, and sets out to snatch a portion of Harlan's property.

According to the old man, you were the daughter of the adoptive child from Harlan's sister. His sister took care of your mother as her own, and before both of them died of illness, Harlan's brother in-law kicked you out of the house. Which is why Harlan's sister called before your arrival, asking her brother to take care of you. While Harlan and his sister wasn't on best terms when she married her husband, Harlan was far too kind and agreed for you to stay as long as you wish, paying off your college loan and medical bills that his brother in-law kicked out of the house along with you.

You are a pre-med student in your junior year, which means getting up early and going to bed late, spending few hours in the mansion. Even so, you manage to find the time, either learning how to take care of Harlan like Marta, or chatting with Harlan and play chess.

Ransom huffs again, not only were you a kiss-ass, but also stupidly quick learner at chess - Harlan asked Ransom to play against you one night, and you won. But only out of sheer dumb beginner's luck.

So, he's getting his payback.

Ransom tightens the thick duvet around his body - his almost naked body, and listens carefully to the soft creaking in the stairs.

He knows it's you, with your cautious steps up the screeching floor, while you don't want to wake any living soul in this house at 11:30 pm, dragging your tired ass - you have a good ass, by the way - up two floors, and rest in the room, which apparently became yours rather than his, even though every family in this house knows this room was originally his, and that Harlan asked Fran to clean up his room, RANSOM'S ROOM, for you, which Harlan announced that it would make you feel more like home if you were not living in one of the guest rooms.

Oh, so Ransom will feel more like home if he lives in one of the guest rooms when he drops by every holiday?

Harlan is probably charmed by you, some voodoo shit, or drugged by that idiot-brain Marta.

He holds his breath and closes his eyes, pretending to be sound asleep, as the door squeaks open, leading to your small gasp.

"Ransom!" You hiss in the smallest voice you manage, "Ransom! What are you doing in my bed?!"

After he yelled at his mother, calling her an "old hag", changed the lock to this room, and cut holes in your sweater, you know he wants his room back.

Not that you intend to sabotage his plans, being a guest in this household, how on earth can you give the room to him when Harlan has specifically told you that he would find a way for Ransom to stop bothering about which room belongs to whom?

"Ransom!" You hiss again, "I can see your body trembling under the covers! I have a class at eight and I need to sleep!"

Smiling brightly, Ransom pulls the cover down, revealing his - almost - naked body.

"Ransom!" You cover your eyes with a squeal, "Are you- Why- You are naked!"

"Come on, Cousin. You wanna tell me that you are not interested in this?" He gestures down his body as if displaying an exhibit. Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges your sanity with every word that comes out of his mouth, "One good fuck in exchange for my room?"

Silence. Dreadful silence fills the room.

Ransom has that annoying smirk up on his lips, looking down at his grey boxers, "...no? Shame." He swings the thick cover back on, muttering to himself, "Okay. Nevermind. I guess I will just ... enjoy this soft cushy bed on my own..."

"Hugh Ransom Drysdale!" You tear the heavy duvet from his body, "GET OUT OF MY BED!"

Okay fine. He looks like a living Adonis with his abs and biceps. So what?

You avoid looking at his God-like body and his eyes, whisper-yelling, "Get off or I swear I will wake up everyone in this house and tell them about how awful you are!"

Ransom yawns, completely oblivious to your weak threat, which he knows it is the last thing you will do - make a fuss about your living condition in front of all these Cold-blooded creatures.

"Ransom!" You huff at his attempt of grabbing the duvet, "If you insist on taking up my bed, at least you can tell me where the empty guest room is."

"Nope." Answers Ransom, popping the "p" between his wickedly seducing lips, "You got two options here. The floor," he points at the small space between the mahogany desk and the four-posters, "or here." He pats on his bed - wait that's your bed! - softly, "With me."

You clutch the edge of your sweater tightly, a small movement that did not missed Ransom's eyes.

"Or good luck finding Franny in this god forsaken house and 'waking up everyone' to tell them about how I mistreated my cousin." Ransom grins, "So, what do you think?"

It doesn't surprise Ransom when you take the duvet completely and roll up some of your clothing for a makeshift pillow on the floor. You are too tired to argue and too scared to disturb a family you barely know.

You turn off the light and lie down on the ground without another word.

... he may have gone a little too far.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a soft sigh of yours. Why should he feel weird about this? You are the one who is about to be part of Harlan's will and snatch Harlan's adoration. Taking up your bed - his bed, whatever whose bed seems childish. It bothers you, sure, but he never wanted for you to sleep on the ground.

Christ, why couldn't you be a kiss-ass for him like how you treat Harlan? That way he'd feel much more comfortable about making you sleep on the cold, hard, creaking floor - ugh!

Ransom cannot bear the thought any longer of you sleeping on the ground, which is why he gets up from the bed, swings his sweater and pants over his shoulders, and kicks your foot condescendingly, "Your bed sucks." Before strolling out of the room, stepping on the staircases loudly so the entire house could hear.

You suck. He thinks, setting foot on the creakiest spot he could find for these wooden planks. And if he cannot sleep at almost 12 o'clock, neither will the rest of the house.

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drydale x reader #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale #jammy's 500 celebration #writing challenge

[kining-the-evil]

Hii. Can I get a request with Ransom Drysdale x daughter r where yn is ill and just want her dad?thank you

Sick Day

Summary: You don’t want your father to leave while you’re like this (Drabble)

Warnings: vomiting, fever, ransom being soft

“Y/n…”

“No,” you mumbled against your fathers chest.

“I won’t make you go, but I have to get out of here,” he tried again. Linda would be up his ass if he didn’t show up to the family dinner. You had been up all night, throwing up with a fever, so he wasn’t go to drag you to some long ass dinner at his grandfathers house.

“You don’t Even want to go,” You argued. His hand was rubbing up and down your back to comfort you. As much of an asshole he was to others, he had never been harsh to you. Even when angry, he kept his composure and treated you with respect.

“I never want to, but it’s called being a grown up.”

“Gross.”

He chuckled at you before moving you off of his lap. “Wait!” You tried to grab him but he was already out of reach

“If I don’t leave now, I’ll be even later. Then your grandmother is going to show up and it will be a whole thing.” He had pulled his jacket on, but when he turned to look at you there were tears in your eyes.

“I’ll go with you!” You stood up, wobbling slightly.

“Stop,” he stepped forward to let you grip his arm. “I really think you need to stay home.”

“Please!” You were practically begging him.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled. He sat back down on the couch, letting you wrap yourself up in his lap. He pulled his phone out, calling Harlan.

“Hello?”

“Hey Franie, mind putting Harlan on.” You smacked him lightly, but he ignored you. After a moment of silence Harlan’s voice spoke.

“Where are you Ransom?”

“Y/n is sick, we’re not coming.” He reached over and checked your forehead, making a mental note to get you more medicine.

“Of course! I’ll let everyone know, tell her I hope she feels better.”

“Sure,” And with that the conversation was over. He put his phone down and looked down at you. “Harlan says to get better.”

You made a noise to show you heard him, but didn’t move other then that.

“I need to get you some medicine- just wait,” he gave you a look before you could interrupt him. “I’ll get a movie going, and I’ll stay on the couch the rest of the afternoon. Deal?”

You glanced up at him and he raised an eyebrow, waiting for your response. “Deal.”

#fanfiction #knives out #ransom drysdale x daughter!reader #ransom drysdale x child reader #ransom drysdale #knives out Drabble #request

[krirebr]

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left. 

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

[missvelvetsstuff]

@supraveng , I accidentally deleted the ask and took longer than intended but here you go.

I have a request for your milestone celebration......can you write a Ransom Drysdale or Nick Fowler story?  any scenario you like, just keeping his asshole persona except he's totally soft for the reader? 

Traded up

Nick Fowler x Reader, past Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Ransom shattered her heart but Nick put it back together and filled it with love. What happens when they run into each other?

Warnings: swearing, a little angst

Notes: Idk how I ended up with over 700 followers but thanks for joining me for this ride.

Not exactly what you asked for but this is where my brain went. Hope you like it.

This is my first attempt to write anyone other than Bucky so I hope it doesn't suck.

Tried to keep the reader as generic as I could but she's a tall girl, like me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she walked into the ballroom, people noticed. Over 6 feet tall in heels wearing a long sleeve, boat neck, backless, black silk gown with a slit up her right thigh and 2 strings of diamonds draping down her back. Hair arranged with simple black lacquer combs, a pair of large diamond studs adorned her ears, a colorful Graff Hallucination watch graced her wrist. Simple make up focused on her cat eyes.

She had the look of old money, completely comfortable in her bespoke clothes and long, lithe body.

She looked around, searching for someone and deflated slightly when she couldn't find him. A waiter offered champagne but she waved him off and moved gracefully  towards the bar where she ordered a real drink.

Ransom noticed the murmuring and looked up from the blonde he was chatting up but couldn't see who was causing the whispers. He watched the crowd part and saw a woman step up to the bar, her backless dress so low cut he was sure he could see some cleavage. His eyes roamed over her back then opened wide and doubled back when he saw the scar on her left shoulder. From the spring of a trampoline when she was a child.

His heart sped up, he wasn't ready to see her and didn't know if he ever would be. She was the one that got away. He was young and stupid and blew it. Didn't expect to ever see her again, rumour was she had moved to California. He kept watching as she sat gracefully on a barstool and her dress adjusted so he definitely could see some crack. His heart sped up.

The blonde noticed his distraction and tugged on his coat "Raaaann" she whined.

He clenched his jaw "Shut the hell up" spat through gritted teeth, without taking his eyes off of her. His heart ached and he felt hot, unsure of what to do, something he wasn't accustomed to. He decided going full Ransom playboy was the safest call. He couldn't let anyone see how badly he wanted her, how much he missed her.

Y/N sipped her drink and kept her eyes roaming the room until they fell on him. She threw the rest of her drink back and requested another, sighing. She knew there was a good chance Ransom would be here, his mother was on the board of this charity and he always liked seeing how many debutantes he could get into in one evening. She had hoped she wouldn't have to face him alone but she wasn't going to let him see how badly he hurt her. She wouldn't let him know the true effect he had on her.

She was better, stronger now and loved by someone who was willing to put in the work a relationship requires, someone loyal to her, someone who worshipped her. She just wished he was here right now.

She looked at her watch and tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the bar when she felt someone behind her.

"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in. You look extremely fuckable, as always" Ransom laughed softly.

Y/N turned around slowly, looking him over with contempt. "Hugh."

And turned back to her drink.

Ransom bristled "You know I hate when you call me that."

She shrugged. "Not my problem."

"Don't try to be coy with me. We both came here alone, we'll leave together."

She scoffed "Not if you were the last man on earth, Hugh." She paused "I'm meeting someone."

Ransom laughed "Sure you are sweetheart. Don't make up excuses, if there is someone he shouldn't keep you waiting." He looked her up and down again, licking his lips "I certainly wouldn't leave you alone here."

She laughed "Riight, you'd just run off to fuck someone else in the bathroom, then race back to me stinking of her."

She waved her left hand, showing him the large diamond "I didn't buy this for myself"

He opened his mouth to say something but she put her hand up to stop him and looked at him disdainfully "Please fuck all the way off, Hugh." She spat

Ransom was feeling irritated, the blonde had already moved on and he was horny and determined to hook up with his ex. "Look, Y/N that was the past and it only happened a couple of times. Why do you have to make such a big deal about it?"

The bartender came over to check on her and refilled her drink while Ransom glared at him. She dropped a hundred into the tip jar and Ransom shook his head "Why are you tipping the help, they get paid enough."

Y/N shook her head and chuckled "You still haven't fucked off, Hugh. You might regret that."

"Doubt it." He crowded into her space and lowered his voice "You smell delicious. We can head into the bathroom, they're pretty spacious here. I can fuck you like I used to, make you squeal and mark that pussy as mine. Maybe I'll take a taste and-" he saw her shaking her head and scoffed "Then how about a dance, for old times sake?"

He grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the dance floor, then turned her around grabbed her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. She tried to pull away when she felt his erection rubbing against her ass.

Ransom pulled back suddenly, distracted by a kerfuffle at the entrance. Y/N took the opportunity to wrench herself free of him and head for the bar but he followed her as she reclaimed her seat at the bar.

"Why the fuck is it so difficult to check my goddamn coat? Is there anyone working here with an IQ over 75? Does that valet even have his drivers license? He looks like he's 12. Unfuckingbelievable." Echoed throughout the room. She shivered at his voice.

Ransom saw a tall man, taller than him, with short dark hair and a 5 o'clock shadow, obviously expensive black suit, rolex on his wrist, walking straight towards them. He looked familiar but Ransom couldn't place him.

Y/N smiled when she heard him and looked at Ransom pointedly "Last chance."

He smirked at her "I'm good here."

She shrugged then gasped when the tall man put his hand on her bare back, his touch and his voice did things to her. His scent wrapped around her, pine and citrus, making her feel safe and aroused at the same time.

He was taller than her, even in her heels, and kissed her cheek before he spoke.

"Sorry I'm late babe, had a damn flat." He looked up at Ransom, knowing full well who he was and what he did.

"Who's your little friend?" Then offered his hand "Nick Fowler"

She smiled "Nicky, this is Hugh. I told you about him. His mother is on the board."

Nick squeezed Ransoms hand a little too tightly and looked him in the eye until Ransom looked away which made Nick smile.

Ransom tried not to wince "Ransom Drysdale, only the help call me Hugh."

Nick nodded "I know all about you Drysdale." He grinned widely "Ever find any purpose in your life beyond fucking debutantes? It'll get old eventually." He squeezed Y/N to him "Best to find a good one and settle down." She smiled up at him with hearts in her eyes.

Ransom bristled and puffed his chest out. Who the fuck Was this guy to talk down to him? He was Ransom fucking Drysdale and this guy was- his train of thought was derailed when Nick leaned down to kiss Y/N and Ransom felt his stomach drop. This guy was the one with Y/N, that's who he was.

Nick looked up after ending the kiss and looked surprised. "You're still here? She's mine and there's nothing you could do to change that so be on your way. I don't want to have to mess up your pretty face in front of all these people."

Y/N just smiled and adjusted herself in her seat. She loved when Nick was possessive and jealous because it led to the best sex, made him almost feral.

Ransom tried to puff up and regain his dominance but it was for naught, Y/N was completely absorbed with Nick, as though Ransom didn't exist. He deflated, looking at her sadly, knowing that he blew the best thing in his life and it was too late to fix it.

As Ransom walked away Y/N poked Nick in the chest "You're so mean, Nicky."

Nick smiled at her "That's because I'm surrounded by idiots and assholes." He cradled her cheek in his hand, feeling his heart speed up when she leaned into him. "Except for you, sweetheart. I'll always be good to you."

He kissed her again, a little more passionate, more needy.

When he pulled away he offered his hand "We already made our donation and the food at these things always sucks. Why don't I take you home and we'll order takeout."

He ran his hand up the slit in her dress "and I'll show you how good I can be to you."

Y/N took his hand, stood up and forced herself to walk next to him, rather than racing to his car so they could hurry home together, Ransom forgotten like yesterdays gossip.

Nick stopped suddenly and pulled her up against him before she knew what he was doing then whispered in her ear

"You know, I've heard the bathrooms here are really nice."

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x y/n #700 followers #how the hell did this happen?

[crazyunsexycool]

The love we gave away

Chapter 6

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: the Thromby/Drysdale family they're a warning all of their own, mentions of drinking, angst, implied past child abuse, idk what else...

A/N: Here we have the long awaited follow up. A new character is introduced, will he be competition for Ransom? 👀 The Thromby/Drysdale family are the worst, at least the adults are. I have made Harlan more of the father figure that Ransom deserved.

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Ransom was more annoyed than usual. His family bickered amongst each other over the most mundane things, he couldn’t bear it. Not even with a drink or two of his grandfather’s best  scotch. He should have known better than to come for family dinner on Friday night. Joni was going on and on about some new facial cream or diet or something very vain. Richard and Linda were arguing again. Walt was talking with Harlan about who knows what. Probably trying to persuade him to fire Ransom. 

“What are you sulking about now?” Linda’s attention moved from her husband to her son. 

“Nothing mother. It’s not like you’d actually care, you never have.” 

“Show your mother some respect.” Richard snaps at his son. That gets the attention of everyone in the room.

“Like you do?”

“You know, it’s a good thing you didn’t get stuck raising those little brats with that gold digging whore you had in high school. They’d be little shits just like you.” 

His family loved to bring that up. Throw his kids in his face as if they had been a mistake. But he knew that they weren’t. Sure, neither of you were ready to have children at 17 but that didn’t mean that he didn’t love them. And knowing them now Ransom is sure that they are the best part of him.

“You don’t know shit Richard. I sure as hell would have been a better father than you.”

His parents, Walt, Joni and Donna all laugh at him. 

“You, a good father? Please, a snake could raise a kid better than you.” 

“Eat shit Richard.” Ransom snarls. 

It took everything in him not to close the distance between himself and his father and wipe that smug smirk off his face. Ransom knew better than to fall into their little games but after everything that happened at the wedding a week ago. Neither time nor distance have made him feel better. Ransom knows he should have gone after you but the look on your face after he said what he did left him frozen in place. He’s never been good with apologies but he knows he has to make it right with you. 

“Watch your mouth before I remind you of your place.” Richard snapped back as he made his way toward Ransom.

“What are you gonna do old man? You think you can put your hands on me like you used to? I’d love it if you gave me a reason to kick your ass.” 

“That’s enough.” Harlan speaks up. “If you can’t behave like an adult you can leave.” 

“You heard dad, Ransom. Are you leaving or are you staying?” 

Ransom glares at his mother. 

“I was speaking to you Linda and your husband. You should know better than to provoke him.” 

“That is outrageous. You’re going to kick me out of my own home over this pathetic excuse of a son?” 

“This isn’t your house, Linda, it’s mine. Out. Everyone and I don’t want to hear excuses.” Harlan says as he gets up to go to his study. “Come with me Ransom.” 

Ransom stands and for the first time the whole week he manages to at least smirk, satisfied that everyone is left whining and bitching. 

****

“Sit and tell me what happened.” Harlan motions to the chairs next to the table he has a chessboard set up.  

Ransom grimaces at the memory of everything that happened at the wedding and his harsh words towards you. 

“I fucked up.” Ransom says as he picks up a chess piece and inspects it. Harlan raises an eyebrow at the curse word. “I messed up and probably ruined everything with Y/N.” 

“How so?” 

Ransom sighs and explains the wonderful weekend you’d had together before the wedding, leaving out the details of sleeping together of course. Then he explains how Bertie had just shown up without warning even though he had broken up with her. Finally Ransom explained the fight you’d had and what he’d said. 

“That temper of yours will always get you in trouble.” Harlan finally says but he sends an empathetic look Ransom's way. “So do you want to fix it?”

“Of course I do.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I have to. I have to do right by Y/N for once in my miserable life and for the kids. They don’t need to be caught up in the mess I created.” 

“That’s all? Those are the only reasons?” Harlan says with a knowing smile on his face. 

“Yes those are the only reasons.” 

Harlan scoffs and shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He learned a long time ago that it’s easier to let Ransom come to his own realizations instead of throwing them in his face. 

“Fine, I still love Y/N. I’m in love with her. These last few weeks and this past weekend reminded me of it.” Ransom was up and pacing the length of the study. When he turned to look back at his grandfather he found a smug smirk on the older man’s lips and he rolled his eyes. “I never stopped loving her but I wasn’t good enough for her then and I’m obviously not good enough for her, for them, now.” 

“So then get better.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Sometimes it is. But you have to start by figuring out what will happen between you and Alberta and apologizing to both of them.” 

“Both of them?” 

“Yes. Alberta for stringing her along and Y/N for everything else. Sit down and have a real conversation. Lay everything out on the table so that if you start a relationship again that it’s on good terms and not haunted by the mistakes of the past.” Harlan says as he gets up. “And bring me my great grandkids soon. I’d very much like to meet them.”

 With that Harlan walks out and leaves Ransom to think on what he should do first. 

You walk into Wanda’s home with a bottle of wine in hand. She loved to host small dinner parties. Wanda especially loved to introduce her and her husband’s friends to each other. You weren’t surprised to walk in and see a few people already sitting and chatting but your eyes are pulled to someone in particular across the room. 

“I’d recognize that hair anywhere.” You say with a laugh once you’re close enough. “Hi Ari.” 

“Y/N?” He turned around and smiled. “Wow what a small world.”

“Small indeed.” 

You accept the hug he offers you and chuckle when he lifts you up slightly.

“It’s been so long, you look as beautiful as ever.” 

“Me? What about you? You look amazing.” You say as you give him a quick up and down. He had filled in quite nicely. His shoulders were stronger and broader. The jeans he wore accentuated his strong thighs and you were sure that under the button up he wore was a wall of pure muscle. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’m glad you made it.” Wanda came up and gave you a side hug. “Do you know Ari? He and Viz are working on a project together.” 

“Yes. We actually met a long time ago in Italy.” 

“Fun times.”

“Yeah, they were.” You smirked.

“This is great. Do you mind if I borrow Y/N for just a moment?” 

“Not at all. I’ll be here.” Ari winks and watches as you walk away. 

****

“Oh my god. You know Ari? I invited him to introduce you. This is even better.” Wanda ranted as she held and shook you slightly. 

“Wanda, I’m not looking for anything with anyone right now.” 

“Because of asshole Ransom? Please, you know the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” 

“Last time I got over Ransom was with Ari. I don’t think it really would be fair for that to happen again.” 

“Oh please,” Wanda waved her hand dismissively. “You’ve never truly gotten over Ransom and you’re older now.” She grabs a wine glass and a bottle to serve you a drink.

“Thanks for that.” 

“I mean, you’ve learned a lot since you last saw Ari. Things are different now.” 

“Wanda I love you with all of my heart and you are one of my closest friends but please don’t meddle.” You grab the glass of wine Wanda had offered and take a sip. 

“Fine. Although I’m completely against you not climbing him like a tree. I mean have you seen him?” 

“Yes Wanda I saw him.” 

“Ok but did you look at him? I mean as a designer anything you put him in he’d look good. Especially your bed.” 

“Wanda!” You chastise her as she walks away laughing. 

**** 

The room was starting to get stuffy and overwhelming with drunken chatter so you stepped out onto Wanda’s balcony. The twinkling lights of the city lay below you and you sigh as your thoughts go back to Ransom. The weekend had been so special, like a move in the right direction. Your hurt and jealousy drove you to push his buttons. It should have come as no surprise that he responded the way he did but he had never talked to you like that. Maybe you didn’t know him at all anymore and that broke your heart just a little more. You spent the whole week thinking over what you could have done differently. Maybe if you would have let him explain things would be different. 

“Getting all the answers you need over there?” Ari’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“What makes you think I need answers?” 

You turn to watch as he walks over and leans against the railing. 

“Did you forget I met you in Italy? You had the same face back then.” 

“Same face I’ve had all my life.” You quip weakly. 

“And a beautiful one at that. But I’m talking about the pouty look you have right now. If memory serves me right it was because of a guy that broke your heart.” 

You had been looking at the city again when you turned your head and gaze at him. He was right back then and he was right now. 

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” He’s looking at you now, watching for any change in your expression.

“The same guy did the same thing.” 

Ari shakes his head and stands up straight. He turns his body completely towards you and leans his hip against the railing. His arms come to sit across his broad chest. 

“Give me his name and I’ll kick his ass.” 

You chuckle and wave a hand dismissively at him. 

“It’s my own fault really. I actually hadn’t seen him since before Italy and we reconnected recently. I thought there were some feelings there but I guess I was wrong.” You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing much too it. And I can’t really just cut him out of my life right now so I’m trying to be prepared for when I see him again.” 

Ari just nodded. He watched you intently though. 

“I know what will cheer you up.” 

“Do tell.” 

“A night out with me and some dessert. Why don’t we get out of here?” He stretched his hand out for you to take.

Ari was always an adventure and he always found a way to take you along for the ride.

You woke up the next day around noon. There was a dull ache behind your eyes and you groaned when you opened them just to be met with sunlight. The night with Ari had been fun but you should have known better than to assume you would get regular dessert. He managed to find a place that sold boozy desserts. That added with your two glasses of wine gave you a hangover. Overall it was a fun night, it reminded you of the summer days in Italy. When Ari would pick you up and you’d run around freely in the city. It also helped to keep your mind off of Ransom. 

You drag yourself to the bathroom and once you’re done with your morning routine you grab your phone. Wanda sent you a reminder for a dress you needed to work on and you had a few texts from Ransom, Ari, Abigail and Theadore. You reply to them, except for Ransom and decide to get dressed in order to head into your office to get some much needed work done. 

****

You’d been in your office for hours. Most of your time was spent drawing, choosing fabrics, cutting out patterns and then changing things around. The sun had started to set, the last few rays filled your work space with golden light. It only inspired you more. You were so engrossed in your work you didn’t hear the footsteps coming closer. 

Ransom stood in the doorway. You looked beautiful bathed in the golden glow of the disappearing sun. His heart ached as he watched you diligently and meticulously pin the fabric together. This was you in your true element. He’d seen it countless times and he’d missed it. After watching you work for a few minutes he knocked, startling you. Your eyes snap up to the door and the smile that was forming on your lips vanishes when you realize that it’s him. 

“Hey.” Ransom says cautiously. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk. I messaged you but you didn’t answer.”

“So you decided to drop by instead?” You  step away from the dress you had been working on and cross your arms. 

Ransom sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, what happened at the wedding-“

“Should have never happened. It’s obvious we weren’t on the same page about what it meant.” 

Ransom’s heart was practically thrashing in his chest. 

“What did it mean to you?” He walked into the room. 

“It doesn’t matter what it meant. The moment is over and we can just continue our lives like before.” 

“What about Theodore and Abigail?” 

“I can be civil towards you around them if necessary but I think it’s best if we spend time with them separately from now on.” You could barely look at him, it hurt too much. Tears were starting to gather in your eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to do that. Fuck, I want to fix this, Thimble. What I said at the wedding? I didn’t mean any of it. I was an asshole and I deserve you being angry at me but don’t give up on us just yet. I want us to be together.” He said as he stepped closer to you only to have you move away from him. “I’m sorry ok. Give me a chance. I promise I won’t fuck this up.”  

“I can’t. You’ll just break my heart again and I won’t be able to take it. Not again, not after everything we’ve already been through.”   

A heavy tension hung in the air. The only sound was your deep breaths as you tried to hold back your tears. Ransom opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. He knew that if he wanted to convince you he was serious about this relationship he’d have to show you. Instead he turned and started to leave and you felt like your heart was breaking all over again anyways.

“I’m going to make this right.” Ransom promises before leaving. 

Ch. 7

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#the love we gave away series #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #dad!Ransom Drysdale

[imaginedreamwrite]

Alpha!silverfox!Steve Rogers

Asylum!Steve Rogers and nurse!Reader

Brave New World

Breathe You In

Curtis & Mousey

Jake Jensen & Pretty Girl

Jake Jensen & Princess

Lloyd & Pumpkin

Lycan!Steve Rogers & barista!Reader

Photo ask game drabbles

Silverfox!professor!Ari Levinson & his librarian

Silverfox!Bucky & Sweet Girl

Silverfox!Johnny Storm & Little flame

Silverfox!mechanic!Steve Rogers x nurse!Reader

Silverfox!paramedic!Bucky Barnes & Bambi

Werewolf!Ari Levinson & Sweetpea

Wildest Dreams

Six sentence smut — thick thighs, Stucky x reader

Johnny & Jake & plus-sized reader

Sugar & Spice welcome home Wednesday

Thick thighs save lives take out Tuesday

Mob!Andy & mob!Lloyd

Three reasons why…YAY Steve

Three reasons why…BB&B

Jefferson gets angry and runs off his cat familiar

Colin Shea hockey

Werewolf!Ari sleepy Sunday

Monster match-up orc!Curtis Everett

White werewolf!Bucky Barnes

Lycan!skinny!Steve Rogers

Lucas Lee university soulmate

Bucky and his ex wife (Bucky is an asshole)

Bucky loses Reader (Once Bitten, Twice Shy)

Steve x reader x Natasha (bisexual!reader)

Fae!Stucky find cat!shifter!Reader

Silverfox!Ransom Drysdale meets reader’s child

Silverfox!Nick Fowler

BT Ransom takes his omegas shopping

Chubby!Bucky takes care of Becca while reader’s gone

Demon!Curtis Everett x human!Reader

Death!Bucky Barnes x life!Reader

Demon!Curtis confronts readers ex

Pipsqueak makes a good tray for Nick and the team

Fae!Jefferson and his reader go to a festival

Construction!alpha!Curtis Everett

Nick introduces pipsqueak to his teammates

Silverfox!Nick Fowler

Kitty!Reader is saved and housed by fae!Curtis, her defender when Jefferson comes to collect her

Ceo!Ari meets plus-sized!Reader at her bakery

Alpha!biker!Steve and alpha!biker!Ari meet pregnant!omega!Reader

Chris Evans (rpf) x pregnant!one night stand!Reader

Demon!Curtis teases reader

Here’s Your Perfect (drabble)

Ari is in a rut, Ice Princess has to help him out

Werewolf!Curtis Everett meets his luna!Reader at his work

Soft!dark!Steve Rogers and his wife

Soft!dark!mob!Steve Rogers and his wife

Jake Seresin gets protective

Silverfox!biker!Steve meets Ladybug

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis meets his bride at the airport

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis & reader sleep together for the first time

Bucky meets Steve’s assistant (HFY)

Cop!Andy Barber x arrested!Reader — how they meet

A/b/o angst

Silverfox!lawyer!Andy Barber

Silverfox!mob!Steve Rogers

Werepanther!Andy Barber gets set up with human!Reader

Merman!Curtis Everett x nurse!Reader

Silverfox!Steve Rogers x Ladybug

Werewolf!Curtis Everett x human!Reader

Fae!Ransom Drysdale x human!Reader

Silverfox!cowboy!Curtis gives reader a sad goodbye

[runa-falls]

pillow princess - pt. 2

summary: ransom really is a pillow princess

pairing: sub!ransom drysdale x maid!reader

rating: explicit 18+ (DNI if you’re under 18 -.-)

warnings: SMUT, fluff :), mentions of transactional sexual favors, edging, overstimulation, creampie, pain-kink [mild], bratty!ransom, kinda dom!reader, needy!ransom, ransom is cute 😩

WC: ~2.1k

A/N: um--this took a while, sorry 😬 I absolutely did not proof read this whoops 😅  

likes are nice, but comments/reblogs keep me going!

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-=+=-=+=-=+=-

Much to your relief, Ransom returns to his usual bratty attitude the next day. He flawlessly acts like nothing happened, careful not to bother more or less than he did before.

Actually, he bounces back to your old dynamic so easily that you wonder if he even remembers that night. It’s almost meticulous with how he interacts with you now.

 The only evidence of his earlier affections that you can recognize is how he says “maid” with a little more husk than necessary. His silky voice teases goosebumps up your arms, but he never goes further. He wants you to chase him. But you’re not one to fold so easily. 

So you follow his apathetic attitude, not needing more drama in your life regarding the man-child you already have to care for. Ransom is a man of limited patience and interest, so his moving on is an inherent assumption. As long as you keep yourself at arm's length, you can return to your life of cleaning and cooking.

Though he is tempting, you are content with your distant position in his life–any more would simply exhaust you. So you assume that he will eventually forget about your moment of weakness and go back to his usual brand of willing women.

But you should’ve known better because, as you’ve learned from your employment under the Drysdales, Ransom is a man full of surprises. 

–

Apparently, the way into a man’s heart–or at least Ransom’s is to completely ignore him.

You hear Ransom clear his throat from the couch, insisting your attention away from the dishes you are working on. You continue with the dishes anyway, pressing the sponge into a particularly stubborn pan as the sound of running water blurs over his annoyed grunt.

Ransom has been unusually distant today, always in another room doing god knows what, to actively avoid you until dinner. The TV plays idly in the background as he peeks up over the geometric couch with a hesitant expression. You’ve never seen that before. 

"Can you-um, play with my hair?" Your movements pause, thinking you heard him wrong. "Please?" he adds, nervously shuffling himself on the cushion, slightly regretting he even asked. You should make him wait a little longer, stew in his self-doubt, but you can’t help how your body reacts to his sheepish behavior. 

Ransom looks incredibly adorable today, opting to leave his hair alone after his shower: product-free and fluffy. He wears one of his older sweaters, shrowding his broad frame in stretched-out cotton, unbothered by the tattered mess of frayed edges and tugged threads that rub against his skin. 

He almost looks small as he waits for your response, letting the sleeves blanket over his hands as he fiddles with his fingers. You drop the sponge in the sink and dry your hands before walking over to him, wordlessly gesturing for him to move over to make space for you. 

“Lay your head on my lap." You sound bored, acting like this is just another chore to fulfill, but on the inside, you’re thrumming in bliss.  He obediently follows your directions, cheek pressing against the top of your thighs to let you run your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes as you gently scratch against his scalp, little sighs puffing out every so often.

His hair is just as soft as it looks, little waves fighting to curl up against years of pomade-use. You keep your gaze straight toward the TV, enjoying this spell of serenity, afraid he’d get up if you locked eyes. 

He looks up at you, silently wishing you’d stare right back. 

—

The original plan went out the door as soon as you had a taste of sweet-Ransom. 

He fell asleep on you that night, completely at ease in your embrace as you brushed through his hair, petting him like you would a cat. You watched as he curled up next to you, too entranced in his beauty to move from under him.

Your stomach burns with desire and affection when you reminisce how soft he can be, content to just nuzzle against your hand the whole night. It’s what finally breaks you. 

So you start experimenting with how far you can take this newfound power, dropping little hints as you go on with your day:

Ransom is almost done eating his usual omelet when you proposition him.

"I'll give you a kiss if you put your dishes in the dishwasher..." 

Ransom, who was once avidly watching a youtube video on his iPad, immediately perks up at your words. Expectantly, he shows a bit of resistance to the new dynamic, hmphing at the thought of cleaning up after himself. 

"Yeah, no, I'm not doing that–And what makes you think I couldn't just take a kiss if I wanted to?" 

You slowly walk up to the dining table, placing his second mug of coffee on the corner of the gray-blue placemat. "...So you don't want a kiss?" His eyebrows furrow with sincere dismay, offended by your question. 

"I never said that." 

"So you do?" You sweetly place his utensils on his plate, preparing him for his first chore in god knows how long. 

"Yes." 

"Then… you know what to do." You head toward the stairs before he can argue with you, thinking of the laundry that could occupy your attention as you wait for him to either give in or give up. “Call me when you get it done.” 

Despite living alone, Ransom’s laundry room is just as full as his closet. You stare at the piles of clothes that need to be ironed, folded, and organized, bewildered by how many outfits he can wear in one day. 

You’re barely able to pick up a sweater before he calls you from downstairs. That was fast.

"I'm done! You can come back and give me my kiss now!" You sigh, looking down at the color-coded piles of clothes. It’ll just have to wait.

You pad down the 'floating' staircase and spot him sitting patiently at the dining table where you left him. iPad off with no plate in sight. 

"Good job, Ransom." You praise, speaking to him like a preschool teacher would a child. You mentally shake your head at his arrogant smirk. He’s so proud of himself for doing the absolute minimum, just because you asked.

 "Kiss. Now." You give him a small smile, shuffling over to his eagerly seated figure. He smoothly nuzzles against your hand as you hold his face, eyes closed in anticipation as you lean in for a kiss. You mischievously bite your lip before placing a quick peck on his cheek, immediately turning to walk back to the stairs. 

You wince when you hear the dining chair scrape against the wooden floor as he stands up with indignation. That’ll surely leave a mark. "Hey! That wasn’t what I asked for!" His deep voice whines up the stairs behind you.

You're stopped halfway up the stairs as you turn to speak to him, a pleased smirk gracing your lips. "That was a kiss, Ransom. Maybe be more specific next time?"

"B-but you're the one who offered it!" You shrugged innocently, enjoying how frustrated you could make him.

"Then maybe you should make me clarify next time?"

—

It doesn’t take long for him to use this new give-and-take game to his advantage. 

“I’ll do my laundry if you give me a real kiss on the lips.” Your lips part, dammit, he is learning. “For five minutes.” He hastily adds, knowing what a smart-ass you can be.

You act like you’re reluctantly giving in, answering with a slow nod, agreeing to his terms. 

Your plan is going perfectly, he’s making your job easier AND you get a kiss from sweet, desperate, Ransom. What could go wrong?

“I’ll do the dishes all week if you let me eat you out.” His voice echoes through the bathroom, startling you from cleaning. You drop the disinfectant spray sending a loud bang through the shower, surprised by his sudden presence. Has he been there the whole time? 

“Until you cum.” He specifies as if you’d stop him once he’s over you. You let out a small cough before turning to look at him, gloved hands still frozen in the air. Ransom has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for your answer.

“Ransom…”

“Please,” He walks further into the bathroom until he’s towering over your crouched position. “I’ll only do whatever you want me to do. Promise.” 

—

You melt for him as easily as he does for you, his newfound softness luring you in. You don’t know how he convinced you into his bed, or if he even convinced you at all. 

His pleading eyes eagerly stare up at you bouncing on his lap as your nails rake down his bare chest, decorating his skin with sweet red trails. Ransom seethes through his teeth, “Yesss.” His cock twitches inside of you as he winces at the pain, helplessly laying under you as he takes everything you give him. 

He gently holds on to your waist as you begin teasingly grinding on him with short abrupt movements, earning a sharp groan from his throat. His stomach rubs beautifully against your clit, making you speed up your movements.

His hips weakly cant up to meet yours, the sound of his skin harshly slapping against your ass travels throughout the house, music to your ears. Soon, too soon, his thrusts start to slow down, juddering as he struggles to sync with your movements. He chokes, holding himself inside of you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" You quickly push yourself off of him, leaving him to whine as he teeters at the edge of his orgasm. His sweat-shined body shakes when his cock barely brushes against your sopping lips, muscles clenching, feeling overly sensitive.  "Noo, please" he begs, attempting to chase the warmth of your cunt to no avail. 

"You only cum when I say you can, you got that." His chest is rising rapidly, pouting against your cruel denial. You reach down and wrap your fingers around his sensitive cock, squeezing gently to make a point, "I said, you got that?" 

"Y-yes, got it."

—

You were impressed how he's keeping up with you, even after cumming two times tonight. You edged him through both rounds, stretching each orgasm to the limit before finishing him with your hand, letting him spill onto your skin.

You’d soak him in your cunt right until he’s ready to burst. “Uh-uh, creampies are only for good boys.” He nods numbly, exhausted from trying to hold his cum back.

At the beginning of the night, you were making him beg so prettily for his orgasm, but now, he's desperately begging you to stop. Overstimulated to the brim, it’s almost painful how quickly he gets to the edge.

"Please--fuck!" You purposely clench yourself around him, driving him crazy, hands flail to grip at your body, trying to keep you still above him. 

You glare down at his flushed face, "Don't fucking touch me." His hands instantly drop before clenching into fists as he tries to stave himself from cumming. His cock practically vibrates from your harsh words, already oversensitized from the number of times you've gotten him off. 

"I-I can't--" He throbs inside of you, heightening the way he prods against the deepest part of you. You smile cruelly, looking down at him, letting out a breathless chuckle. He stares up at you with pleading eyes, deliriously following your movements.  

"Aw baby," You let go of his right hand to cover his mouth, muffling his groans as you speed up. “You don’t have a choice.” He breathes harshly through his nose, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you fuck him dry, reveling in the way his body trembles under you as he fills you to the brim with his cum.  

—

Ransom’s arms tenderly wrap around your waist as he cloaks you in his warmth. His heart beats steadily against your back as his nose presses into your neck.

Despite his submissive nature, Ransom likes to be the big spoon. Sure, it’s partially due to his urge to protect you, but the main reason is to ensure you don’t leave him as he sleeps--because no matter how cocky and arrogant he acts, Ransom is scared to lose you.

His soft breaths brush against the back of your hair as he sleeps, periodically pulling you in closer to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, basking in your scent. 

Ransom feels safe around you. Like he can finally drop the mask he’s been wearing all these years and accept who he is. And he wants to be vulnerable with you. He actually craves it. You’re the first person to see this side of him–or at least the first he has wanted to keep—and he’s never felt so free. 

That’s why he can’t afford to lose you

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #sub!ransom drysdale #sub!ransom #ransom x reader #ransom x you #knives out #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #ransom fluff #ransom drysdale fluff #pillow princess

[writing-for-marvel]

Your Hand In Mine

Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ransom was never a physically affectionate person, at least, not until he met you.

Prompt: @suck-tember day 1 prompt ‘fingers’

Warnings: strictly 18+ only, NSFW, fingering, semi-public sex. TRIGGER WARNING: mention of Ransom’s parents being neglectful and physically abusive. Mention of drugs and alcohol - not consumed by reader. Ransom is fairly soft in this

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: so I know it’s not focussed on oral fixation as intended for @suck-tember, but the prompt inspired this idea so I ran with it. Banners by @maysdigitalarts, dividers by @silkholland

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Ransom Drysale was always someone who liked to keep to himself.

Not that he didn’t enjoy going out, being the life of the party, managing to spend a regular person's yearly wage in one night, or arguing his opinion with anyone who was willing to take the bait.

But in the sense that he enjoyed his physical space.

He was smart enough to realise it was probably rooted in his parents not showing him physical affection as a child - no hugs goodbye, no forehead kiss goodnight, not even a damn high five for a job well done in school.

The only time his parents ever touched him was if he was being dragged somewhere didn’t want to go, their hands in a vice around his arm as he wailed and cried, like the spoiled brat they incessantly told him he was. His father sometimes resorted to physical punishments to prevent his weeping, regularly enough that Ransom quickly learned not to resist their demands, to simply go along with it if he were to avoid their punishment.

And with his compliance, went their last reason to touch him. Though, Ransom was thankful for that.

As he got older, Ransom’s aversion to physical affection born solely from innocent, non-sexual intentions only grew stronger.

Wherever he went he’d see couples interlocking hands, using any excuse to hold each other, sit in each other’s lap, mindlessly fiddle with the other's fingers, placing chaste kisses to foreheads, shoulders, hands.

Why would people want that? Why would you go out of your way to spend more time in connection with someone than you had to?

Ransom was by no means averse to some physical forms of intimacy - having a woman in his bed for the night who could wet his dick provided far greater pleasure than his own hand could. His body had figured that one out for himself.

But that was all about his own sexual release. It had nothing to do with romantic feelings, affection or comfort. Nor the satisfaction of his partner in those carnal activities. It was purely about himself.

How selfish.

Well, he was a Drysdale after all.

Nobody expected anything more of him.

And then he met you.

Your compassion for others were second to none, and even though Ransom had never done anything in his pampered and overindulgent life to deserve any sympathy, you showed him incomparable kindness nonetheless.

If Ransom wanted something, he got it. Friends and strangers alike never said no to him, not with the wealth and stature his family notably held. That same status was something you didn’t place importance on - you treated everyone the same regardless of their background or what material items they could offer you.

Most were too scared to call Ransom out for his bullshit, so he continued to toy the line to see what he could get away with - it was all a game to him, knowing his family money could buy him out of any real trouble he found himself in.

However, you were different. You told him off when he crossed the line. Held him to a higher standard than he held himself. For some strange reason, which Ransom couldn’t fathom, it seemed that you wanted him to be a better version of himself than the spoiled narcissist his parents had raised.

That intrigued Ransom. Mostly because society viewed him as purely the wealthy enabler who paid for everyone’s night out, but that’s where their attachment ended. He knew he was only tolerated because he funded lavish parties, supplied the alcohol and facilitated his so-called friends' drug habits - if it weren’t for that, he’d just be the dickhead nobody liked.

You had this endearingly inspiring quality about you which always made him feel like he could do anything, including improving himself to be more than just the pampered, pompous rich boy.

And he found that he wanted to. For you.

You would later tell him it was his courage and resolve to better himself that really made you fall for him. And though Ransom rarely felt shy, he was apprehensive to inform you that you were the reason he tried in the first place. Because that would mean admitting not only were you the only person on the face of the earth who actually gave a damn about him, but also the way he felt about you was developing into a deep fondness he was unable to control.

In most contexts Ransom was usually the person in charge, directing what needed to happen and when. Yet, when it came to his relationship with you, you were the one who instigated everything.

His lack of experience in affairs born of the heart rather than pure lust, made him feel like an insecure, inexperienced teenager. Yet you were always patient with him, which only resulted in his ever growing attachment to you deepening.

With a romantic relationship came expectations of chaste physical intimacy, and that perhaps more than anything scared Ransom. He couldn’t understand the reasoning behind wanting to be close to someone in that way, and with the deficiency of experiencing any physical touch his whole life, he was concerned he may never be able to provide that for you.

He felt comfortable enough to express this worry to you, and with the unparalleled empathy you possessed, you promised him to start off nice and slow.

You were both attending a book release for his grandfather when it happened for the first time. In tedious discussions with relatives who Ransom had completely forgotten how he was connected to, you inconspicuously reached over and interlocked your pinky with his.

That’s all it was. Just his smallest finger connected with yours. And yet he found himself never wanting to let go. That one minuscule act, that seemed at least outwardly to not affect you at all, had Ransom’s entire body paralysed.

You must have sensed his rigidity beside you. When you looked up at him, all wide eyed and believing you had done something wrong, moving to pull your hand away from his, he clamped his hold on your pinky even tighter.

Ransom wasn’t quite sure why he felt that if you were to let go his whole life would crumble before him. It seemed a drastic overreaction to a simple caress of fingers. But he felt that way deep in his chest nonetheless.

You must have been able to read his intent from the expression on his face - you were always good at doing that - because instead, you smiled up at him, scrunching your nose in the adorable, involuntary way he adored, and kept your finger joined with his for the rest of the party.

Ransom tried to not let the thought of innocently touching your hand consume him, but he failed miserably. He had previously only ever experienced repulsion at chaste touches, and yet he welcomed your touch so freely, only wanting to experience more of the warm sensation.

It wasn’t until two weeks later, while having Sunday family dinner at his parents house, that you chose to perform a similar action.

His mother was on a tirade about certain members of the family whom she didn’t approve of, something she ended up doing when she had one too many glasses of wine, when your name fell from her lips followed by the words ‘gold digger’.

Ransom’s hands were immediately clenched in fists, and rage boiled so fiercely within him that he wouldn’t be surprised to see steam billowing from his ears. He opened his mouth, ready to return the attack when it happened.

Your soft hand pried his fist open, nestling yourself between his fingers. You barely looked down at where you now connected with him, instead choosing to look deep into his eyes as if to say ‘she’s not worth it’.

He could feel his heart rate immediately start to slow down. The anger which had been ferociously bubbling in his chest now felt like barely a ripple.

All because you touched him.

Not sexually. Not in the sensual, teasing ways your hands would roam his body when you wanted him to fuck you.

No, not like that at all. You were simply holding his hand with no additional motivation. You were gaining nothing from this exchange, the act was solely for Ransom’s benefit. Interlocking your fingers with his and affectionately rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, as if it were the most normal and natural thing you could do.

And that’s when it all finally clicked in Ransom’s brain.

The reason all those lovey dovey couples that annoyed him everywhere he went couldn’t get enough of holding each other - why they’d use any excuse to be connected with their person.

Comfort. Support. Security.

The people currently in the room with him had provided the opposite of that his entire life - they had only caused him anguish and loneliness. It was all he was used to, and yet with a gesture as simple as holding hands, he knew for a fact he had found that solace with you.

Linda across the table repeated his given name a couple of times in the scorchingly frustrated way only she could manage when directing conversation at the son she regretted having. However, Ransom was too caught up in his body’s reaction to your affectionate touch to give a shit about his mother at that moment.

The table went silent as Ransom finally stood and declared “eat shit, we’re leaving.”

Heads held high, you walked side by side out of the hostile house, Ransom not letting go of your hand until he opened the passenger side door of his car. As soon as he let go, a feverish tingle rushed up his arm which he suspected only your touch could soothe.

“Thank you.” Ransom breathed out. Somehow the air in his small car wasn’t as stuffy as it was inside his parents' giant house. Ransom couldn’t remember the last time he thanked someone, if ever. Yet the words felt right in his mouth when you were the one he was thanking.

“You’re welcome, Ran.” You returned, seemingly knowing exactly what he was thanking you for without him needing to say it aloud.

As if to make him fall even harder for you right then and there, you chose that moment to yet again join your hand with his, and place a kiss to his knuckles. A warm, fuzzy feeling erupted in Ransom’s chest, one he knew for certainty he had never felt before.

It concerned him for a moment that possibly he was having heart palpitations, or an anxiety attack. But perhaps what startled him the most was that this feeling was actually a surge of love and devotion to you.

He had never loved someone before.

But when he looked into your eyes, he was sure. He could see his whole life in front of him. He never thought finding someone who would put up with him for longer than a night would be on the cards for him, and yet here you were, sticking by him even when you knew the dark and ugly parts of him.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying that for the first time in his life, there was someone more important to him than himself. Someone he wanted to truly be better for.

“Let me thank you properly.”

Without thinking, or even really knowing how he managed it in his small car, he shifted you from the passenger seat onto his lap, pulling you into a bruising kiss.

Ransom felt an inherent need to pleasure you with his fingers, the same part of your body which you had used to provide comfort to him earlier. Pushing your skirt up over your thighs, his hand instinctively reached for the damp patch already forming on your panties.

“Please Ran, please. I need you.” God you sounded so desperate, and that only turned him on even more.

Ransom wasn’t about to deny what you wanted when you asked so politely. Pushing your panties aside, he coated the tips of his fingers in your slick before slipping his middle finger into you. He could tell at once it wasn’t enough by the way you wiggled your hips eagerly to increase friction.

“Such a needy girl aren’t you?” He asked before generously adding an extra finger, your grateful groan in appreciation making his dick twitch. “Look at you, my gorgeous little slut creaming on my fingers right outside my parent’s house where they could see us. You like that, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod when Ransom used his thumb to draw small circles over your clit while simultaneously scissoring his fingers inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

Unlike with his previous sexual partners where all Ransom was concerned about was his own orgasm, being knuckle deep inside your pussy was about your pleasure.

Did the sight of you whimpering above him, feeling your soft walls fluttering around his fingers make him painfully hard? Absolutely.

But this wasn’t for him. This was all for you.

He continued to relentlessly thrust his fingers inside you, instinctively curling them to brush over the spongy spot that had your thighs quivering, relishing the moans and whines slipping from your lips right beside his ear.

“I love all those pretty little sounds you make.” Knowing he was responsible for every breathy gasp, every whimper trickling from your lips only fueled him to pump his fingers faster, to hear more of them.

As he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, Ransom could feel your grip on his shoulders tighten and your pussy squeezing his fingers gloriously.

“Shit, right there! Oh God, Ran, I’m gonna cum.” Your head fell to rest your forehead against Ransom’s shoulder, fingers tugging at his hair and though your eyes fluttered shut in pure ecstasy, he couldn’t take his eyes off how beautiful you looked.

“That’s my good girl. Let go baby, I got you.”

Your entire body shuddered as the wave of your orgasm overcame you, crying out an incoherent combination of curse words and his name as your gushing climax coated his hand and the front of his pants. Though, Ransom didn’t relent the pace of his pumping fingers until he was satisfied that you had fully come down the other side of your high.

The dazed smile you shot him once you managed to sit upright in his lap again mesmerised him. In that moment all he wanted to do was give you mind blowing orgasm after orgasm so he could continue to experience the heavenly sight of your writhing body and that bewitching, satisfied smile.

Ransom removed his fingers from you and brought them up to his mouth to taste the slick of your release, which was as sweet as he knew your soul to be. Lord, he could just drown in the taste of you - something he planned on doing once the location allowed for it.

“Let’s go back to your place, and I’ll return the favour.” You mumbled against his lips in a sloppy kiss before manoeuvring yourself back into the passenger's side seat.

The entire drive home Ransom covered your hand with his on the gear stick, his large fingers slotting between yours perfectly.

In his small car beside you, driving ever further away from his old family house, Ransom had never felt more at home. He intrinsically knew that he’d never find a safer place than his hand enclosed in yours.

And because of that, someday, he’d make sure you knew just how much he cherished you by giving you a ring to wear proudly on your finger.

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