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#ransom drysdale headcanon
babyjakes · 5 months
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | mutual masturbation
pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader
warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D
word count | 886
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it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭
it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”
and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it
he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕
"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life
you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"
it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him
your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole
ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲
you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you
as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs
"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲
you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"
your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.
he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"
"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly
"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more
"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command
"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌
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brandycranby · 4 months
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ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨
crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe
steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)
andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy
ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night
johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."
ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it
jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)
curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho
---
since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh
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levans44 · 6 months
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Tipsy, smutty headcanons w/ cevans characters (pt. 2)
(aka: how Ransom Drysdale would fuck you after a family dinner goes south)
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He raises the subject on a lazy Sunday morning, over toasted English muffins and runny eggs on his sunny kitchen island.
Throws out the question like it’s a casual suggestion, but you know it’s a bigger deal than he’s letting on—in the short time you’ve known Ransom Drysdale, you’ve managed to pick up on a few of his tells: a quick tug at his collar, tongue darting across his bottom lip as he glances off to the side. 
You know I’d rather die than sit through dinner alone. 
And when it finally sinks in that your boyfriend of barely 2 months was asking you to dinner at his family’s house, you have to take an extra long sip of coffee to process what it really means. 
Though you barely knew anything about Ransom’s family, you’ve heard enough horror stories about the Drysdales and Thrombeys to last you a lifetime.  
Yet, you can tell from the way Ransom’s avoiding eye contact, and the way he’s been nudging the food on his plate for the last half hour, that this means something to him (and that a lot of other things mean something to him too, despite his indifferent exterior). So, you respond with a sweet ‘I’d love to, Ran,’  leaning over the marble island to seal your promise with a kiss. 
Dinner at the Thrombey manor is about as pretentious and droll as you’d expected. From the tactless queries about your family’s tax bracket to the seemingly light-hearted jabs at your career—a PhD, huh? So that must mean kids are out of the question?—the evening is littered with tense moments from the first course right up until dessert. Yet, you evade every invasive question with a breezy answer and sweet smile, reaching under the table to squeeze Ransom’s hand whenever you see him stiffen in your periphery, lips twitching with simmering rage.  
Promise me you’re not gonna let them get to you.
You’d reminded him at the entrance of the mansion, straightening out the edges of his collar with a calm smile.
And Ransom keeps his promise for the entirety of the dinner, refraining from sarcastic commentary to the point where Linda Drysdale starts eyeing her son with an inquisitive brow. 
It’s not until after dinner, when Walt Thrombey ceremoniously suggests drinks and cigars in the drawing room, that things start heading south. 
You should’ve seen it coming—all that jealously and insecurity brewing inside Harlan’s youngest son, always walking on eggshells around his dad just to keep his job at the publishing company. Forever envious of the potential that Harlan only sees in Ransom. 
So, how’s my favorite nephew doing?
Walt sighs, sinking back in his armchair with a Cuban cigar between his lips. Uncorks the extravagant 40-year old Cognac he’s been saving—anything to get a rise out ofthe black sheep of the family.  
And surely enough, it only takes a couple drinks before the backhanded comments start flowing faster than the alcohol. A snarky jab at Ransom’s car, his job. 
How’s that freelance… writer thing going, Ransom?
Then rubs the latest best-sellers from his publishing company all over your boyfriend’s face.
And when none of that manages to get a rise out of Ransom, Walt’s gaze shifts over to you. Grins smugly around his cigar he takes a long puff.  
He shrouds the room in smoke, directing a slurred question right over at Ransom as if you aren’t even there:
So. Another flavor of the month, huh Ransom?  How long do you think this one’s gonna last?
Even Richard Drysdale bristles in his seat, startled. 
And you swear you see red flash across Ransom’s face as the room falls silent. 
You murmur Ransom’s name, reaching over to squeeze his arm. But he beats you to the punch—grabbing your hand in one swift moment, lurching out of his seat and nearly tipping the couch over. 
Eat shit, Walt.
With those words, he storms out of the room, you in tow. Slams the door behind you both, sealing the frenzy of bickering that erupts from the rest of the family:
Jesus, Walt, you really had to say that?
Ransom, honey, please—don’t go. 
Really, Walter?
Oh come on, Lin, you know I was kidding!  
Ransom remains silent the whole drive back, gravel crunching under the wheels of his beemer as he pulls up to his driveway. Instead of asking him to talk, you decide to let him have his space, slipping upstairs for a warm shower. God knows you needed it, after all the dirty looks Joni and Donna were flashing your way when they thought you weren’t looking.
When you walk back downstairs, you find Ransom hunched over the kitchen island, nursing a bottle of beer. 
Because despite all the top shelf liquors paraded around during dinner tonight, you know Ransom’s drink of choice has always been beer.
Craft beer, to be more precise. In fact, he’s a little bit of a beer geek—growlers lining up his shelves, his fridge stocked with bottles from the best microbreweries around New England. 
He pops open the top of what looks like his third drink, tossing the cap alongside the empty bottles of Treehouse littered atop his counter. 
You approach him, feet sliding quietly across the wooden floor as you let your hair down, toweling off the wet ends. 
Ran.
He remains silent, gaze fixed on the marble countertop as he takes another swig of his beer. 
Ransom, are you still upset about what Walt said?
When he still remains motionless, you sigh, pursing your lips as you take another step forward. 
He was just drunk. It didn’t bother me, really.  
Slowly, he glances over at you. And when his blurry eyes come into focus, they flit down your frame. He finally opens his mouth, voice barely above a whisper. 
That my sweater?
Hmm? 
You pause, frowning at the question, and glance down at the knitted beige sweater enveloping your frame—his sweater, covered in so many holes and snagged threads that you’d always had poked fun at him for even keeping it around.
Oh, yeah, do you mind if borrow it? I found it in—
You’re suddenly interrupted by a dull ‘clang’ as he drop his beer down on the counter, rushing forward toward you. His hands search desperately for your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips meet yours in a frenzied kiss.  
He pulls you back into the kitchen, crowding you between the counter and his giant frame. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his heavy breaths against your skin as his lips drag down your neck, nimble fingers dipping under the hem of your sweater. And when his palms snake around the back of your thighs, hoisting you up on the marble surface, you gasp against his mouth, gripping at his shoulders for balance.
Ran, w-what are you doing?
And without missing a beat, you feel him murmur into your pulse point:
Loving you.
Taken aback by his shameless affection, because Ransom’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeves, you blush, eyes flitting up to the ceiling. 
Y-you’re drunk.
Maybe.  
He hums, hands traveling underneath your sweater to grip at your hips, your waist, pulling you even closer to where he needs you most. 
But I’ve never felt more fucking lucid in my life.
He looks you dead in the eyes, wetting two of his digits with his mouth before he reaches down.
Ran. 
You murmur aimlessly into his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut at the way his palm slides against your sex, thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit as his fingers sink into your heat.
And when he decides you’ve taken enough of his torment, he lays you back on the marble countertop, loose magazines and beer bottles toppling to the floor as he carelessly shoves them aside. Shucks the sweater up to your neck so your tits are on full display, smiling at the way it makes you whine, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy with desperation.
The sharp lines of his face softened by something other than just the alcohol, his gaze flits down to the apex of your thighs, mouth inching southward as he murmurs: 
You want me here, darling? 
He spreads your legs wide open, arms snaking around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the counter.
Tongue pressed flat against your clit as he sinks two fingers into your heat, trying to coax more of those pretty little whimpers out of your mouth. Degrades you just a smidge, smirking into your cunt:
Fuck, look at you in my sweater. 
Nose digging into your mound as he stares up hungrily, chasing your sweetness on his tongue. 
C’mon, play with those pretty tits for me.
Pulls back just as your head starts lolling over to one side, a telltale sign that you’re on the brink. With your lips buried into the soft material of his sweater, you start to babble incoherently, broken syllables of baby, and please, and fuck.
You close, darling? 
You meet his eyes from between your legs, squirming as you nod under his gaze. 
p-please—Ran, need, need ta…
Mm, you’re gonna have to beg louder than that, sweetheart.
He shakes his head, flashing you a shit-eating grin as he draws feather-light circles over your clit, just enough to keep you teetering over the edge.
Please, Ransom, fuck me, I—
And when he finally lets you come, it’s the kind of toe-curling, back-arching-off-the counter orgasm that wipes your mind clean of everything that’s happened that evening. The noise that escapes your mouth is enough to reach his neighbors from down the road, his fingers curling and hitting that spot just right, flooding you with waves after waves of pleasure. 
Once you finally come to, he clambers over you with a hungry snarl, giving you a bruising kiss. 
You pull back, blinking up at him with an exhausted laugh as you wipe the wetness off his chin with your thumb.  
He leans back down with a lazy smile, giving you another quick peck before muttering against your lips:
Move in with me.
You frown, the abruptness of his words knocking out whatever breath is left in you.
What?
He gazes back silently, expression unwavering despite the incredulous look on your face. 
Mind still half-gone, you try to wrap your head around his words, eyes widening when it fully sinks in. 
B-but, Ran, my dissertation—
—then we’ll get a place in Cambridge, I don’t care. 
He seals his lips with a determined grin, and you know he’s made up his mind. Now, he’d do anything to try and convince you too.
And it there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about Ransom Drysdale, it’s that he never gives up easy.
He reaches forward, cupping your cheek in his palm. And the smug smile on his pretty pink lips is indication that he already knows—knows that you don’t any convincing in the first place.
Well, why don’t you think on it while I…
He smiles, crossing your ankles behind his hips as he pulls you down, hoisting you off the counter. 
…give you a proper fucking upstairs?
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author's note: aaand what was supposed to be a headcanon/drabble situation turned into a one shot. I just liked the setup leading up to the actual smut too much to let it go! Also, I think this is the first ransom fic I’ve ever posted?! Lmk what you think!
P.S. the point about Ransom being a beer geek is 100% canon—a fascinating tidbit that makes his character that much more endearing. (peep the new england craft beers in this scene and this hidden secret abt the position of the beer bottles!! rian johnson is truly a mastermind.)
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(read pt.1 w/ steve and frank here!)
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So this came to me because I currently have a crummy crusty head cold and I feel like garbage, and I thought how would my favorite fictional characters act or what would they do if you had a cold or were sick. Enjoy!
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Dean Winchester:
He’s always hated when you’re sick, even though you never say anything he can tell you don’t feel good
Catching you falling asleep, he’ll always scoop you up and bring you to your shared room, putting you under the covers.
He’ll go and grab some extra blankets in case you throw off the covers and then end up getting cold.
Getting some cozy soft socks and a soft fuzzy sleep eye mask he sets out some aspirin and various cold medication
Once you wake from your nap or are just lounging in bed, he’ll make you whatever you want to eat normally: grilled cheese and tomato soup or some chicken noodle soup.
Eventually he’ll join you in bed not caring that he could get sick himself, and if he does he knows you’ll be his sexy nurse
And he’ll always remember to buy plenty of ice cream (your favorite flavor of course) and pie so you can both share.
He will do anything to help you feel better, even reading that “slutty whore book” out loud, watching you smile as he reads a particularly filthy part. Smirking at you he tells you that when you’re feeling better it's time to re-enact some of these scenes.
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Bucky Barnes
He was used to Steve being sick all the time when they were younger, but you were different. You always tried to be strong and not let on you were sick until you were super sick.
He would watch you trying to work and dozing off, your head would drop and then you would wake up looking miserable
Frowning he would walk over to you and carefully pick you up and carry you to you room, putting you in some soft and warm pajamas
He would take your temperature and if too warm would use his metal arm to cool you down, making sure to keep a heavy blanket nearby just in case.
Would cook you his Ma’s famous chicken noodle soup, he made it all the time for Steve and if he liked it so would you
Hearing your wheeze breath and your clogged nose made him think of Steve and he would always get some hot water and a towel to help clear your sinuses
If you had a cough he would get you the same cough syrup he would get for Steve amazed that they still made it, and would make sure you would take it
Baking cookies just because he knew they were your favorite, and hoping you can taste them.
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Steve Rogers:
Hearing you cough or sneeze always brought back bad memories from pre serum times
He always heard the wheeze, cough, or sniffle first before you even knew you were sick, so he would stock up on supplies
Buying your favorite snacks, he would set everything up in your bedroom. He would make sure Tony would get all the streaming services so you could watch anything you wanted too.
Getting a nice hot bath together, he would use your favorite bubble bath, light your favorite candles and put on some of your favorite music
Buying you the softest, warmest pajamas he could find he also got some cooler clothes in case you got too warm
After the bath he would carry you to bed, watching you slide under the covers he sits on the bed and listens to your day until you trail off and fall asleep
He would pick up any prescriptions or any cold medication you would need, always double checking if you wanted anything else (snacks, ect) before coming home
Sometimes if you had trouble sleeping he would tell you stories about him and Bucky, silly things that happened, sometimes maybe serious things too.
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Ransom Drysdale:
He wants you to stay far away with him, keeping your runny nose away from his trademark sweaters
Initially hearing you cough and sniff at night when trying to sleep annoys him, after the third night he feels bad for you and calls for a private doctor to check you out.
After finding out you're legitimately sick, he buys you a cashmere throw and has an actual masseuse come in to help you relax.
Setting up the guest house just for you to recover in, no expenses spared anything you need he gets no matter how outlandish or expensive.
He’ll cater in your favorite foods from anywhere, that gelato you loved? It’s flying in from Italy, that spicy ramen you had years ago? Just arrived still hot
Grabbing one of Harlan’s books he will sit with you in the guest house bedroom and read to you, but will deny it if you tell anyone, but enjoys seeing your reaction to the twist at the end.
He will make sure any type of medicine you need is yours. Pharmacy closed? Not anymore. Now its open 24/7
While he initially avoided you before he now knows you are really sick and demands you let him hold you, otherwise he just scowls at you.
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shininglikeyoursmile · 4 months
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Something warm 🫠🫠🫠
Pairing: Ransom x female reader
W/c : around 500
Warning: kissing , Soft Ransom, fluff! 18 + only!
Summary: It's so cold outside
A/n: It's so cold outside and all I want is Ransom, to keep me warm!!🥺🥺🫠🫠. Please 🥺🙏❤️ leave some feedback. Reblogs , comments and feedback is most appreciated.MUCH MUCH LOVE!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰
And yeah Ransom is soft 🥺🥺🥺 cause he my baby 🥹🥹🥹
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You rub your hands together to generate heat. It's so cold and all you wanna do is snuggle up in a blanket with some warm drink like Coffee or something.
"My hands feel lonely " Ransom , who is walking back home with you, says in a childish tone "Here" you chuckle and take his hand in yours . His hand is warm unlike yours. And it feels so good to feel warmth at least. You move closer to him and look at his face. Ransom in all his glory, rosy cheeks and a small smile, his eyes feel warm too with the way he's looking at you. His ivory sweater is another soft thing apart from his soft skin. "Y'know," Ransom starts and you meet his eyes with a questioning look, although you are quite satisfied with everything you have with him "my lips feels alone too" he grins at you and you feel all the blood rushing to your face.
Damn him!
Your eyes dart away slightly cause damn you really can't hold the intensity of his gaze and it's warming you from inside and your stomach feels like a lot of butterflies fluttering together. "You gonna keep them company?" Ransom smirks and tilts your head to meet his eyes, his soft fingers holding your chin captive."I-" you stutter and lick your lips nervously. Before you can take the next breath his lips crash on yours and all the oxygen leaves your lungs. His hand moves to rest on the back of your head and pulls you closer to deepen the kiss. Your hand rests on his chest while the other holds his. His warm tongue glides across yours and maps every inch of the insides of your mouth . You can feel your heart beating rapidly. He pulls away with a smile, a genuine small, and bops your nose softly "still cold?" he asks.
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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years
Note
headcanon of Mafia ransom and his assassin wife, reader
thank you for sending this! I hope you like it.
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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HEADCANONS OF MAFIA RANSOM AND HIS ASSASSIN WIFE
They are a power couple.
Ransom Drysdale is a man you never want to cross, and people tend to assume that he is the type of man who cares only for his business and the empire he built, and his wife isn’t his priority, but they are wrong. He was always going to put her first. 
If you were to harm his wife, well… if she didn’t kill you first, you should get out of the country because Ransom will find you and torture you slowly, mailing off pieces of you to your family.
Of the two, his wife Y/n Drysdale is the one you never want to get on her bad side, Ransom would know. He treads carefully now after the last time he did. He fears for his balls anytime he sees her holding anything sharp. That was the moment he knew he’d marry her. 
The females now know not to try anything with Ransom, the few dumb enough not to listen always end up instantly regretting it.
They met when Y/n was sent to take Ransom out, and they both put up a great fight that ended in hot steamy sex. Not that either was complaining.
Both of them, together, are very kinky. You don’t want them to torture you together because you’ll end up seeing them fuck in front of you before you go.
They both make sure to plan a date night. The date starts off great and ends with a bang. People end up dead, the couple covered in blood, smiling lovingly at each other. 
Ransom can be sweet, but only to her. He’d go out and get her flowers, make sure that she eats and stays hydrated, offers to give her a massage and not expect anything in return. He learnt early on that she hates being given gifts randomly. So he gets her food, makes sure her snack drawer is filled with the things she likes and her mini fridge is filled with the drinks she’d kill someone for. 
They are both very possessive of each other and very obsessive too. They are so in love with each other that anyone who tries and comes in between ends up dead.
Ransom likes to keep a photo of her in his wallet and the polaroids she took just for his eyes. He feels like a kid on Christmas when he finds a new one.
He will kill any man that looks, talks or touches his wife, and the same goes for her.
If they were to fight, it would be chaos. Things are thrown, knives towards heads, plates, anything. But they never CHEAT. It’s a big no for them both.
Deep down, they just want to be loved as they didn’t grow up in a loving family.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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pedrito-friskito · 1 year
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Happy Sleepover lovely Kay!
I didn’t see the character on the list but if you’re writing for Chris Evans’ characters, I was wondering if you could do Ransom Drysdale with the prompt “Your eyes are beautiful.” He’s a dick but I think the right person could turn him into a puddle. If you can’t do Ransom, my back up is Nomad Steve Rogers
Please and thank you
💕
ericca darling thank you!!
okay I don’t know if I completely did the assholery justice (it’s been a hot second since I watched Knives Out) but the mere thought of Chris Evans in that cream-coloured sweater DOES THINGS TO ME so here we are…! a…softer side of Ransom Drysdale (for the right person!)
hope you enjoy sweets, thanks for the request!
requests are open until saturday midnight!
firecracker
(word count 1.7k)
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He knows you’re angry.
It’s not hard to see, every time he glances over at you in his car. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your legs the same, and you’re staring pointedly ahead, eyes glued to the windshield. Any other night, and you’d be staring out the window, dreamily pointing out stars and constellations as he drives, or, if you were in a mood, you’d be clinging to his arm, either pulling his hand between your legs or fitting yourself over the centre console and freeing him from his slacks.
The anger is nearly rolling off of you, filling the car with tension that he thinks he could cut with a knife. He’s seen you upset before, but never like this. And he knows it’s his fault. He knows.
We’re not dating, he’d told his friends, not realizing you were within earshot. We’re just fucking around. She’s a good lay, little firecracker in bed. It was a boldface lie, Ransom will be the first to admit. But he’s a different person when he’s around those guys, when he’s out in public, not alone with you, in the house you’ve only just decided to share.
He was just…fronting. He can’t tell those guys shit like this, like he’s in love with you, like he would move heaven and earth to make you happy. He can’t be seen as that guy, he has a reputation to maintain for Chrissakes. He can’t let anyone else know that you seem to have this innate ability to turn him into a fucking puddle with a bat of your eyelashes.
He didn’t meant to fall in love with you; it just…happened.
You just…happened.
And you heard what he said. You rounded the corner a moment later, cocktail glass held so tight he was shocked it didn’t splinter in your grip. For a moment, he thought he was home-free, that you just happened to be walking his way at that time, but the expression on your face? Oh no, you’d definitely heard.
You’re silent the entire drive, eyes not moving from the road ahead. He’s barely cut the engine when you’re flinging the door open and stepping out, the headlights illuminating your path to the door. Ransom waits for a moment, stuck in the driver’s seat. He watches you fish your keys from your purse, open the door and step inside, slamming it shut behind you without looking to see if he followed.
Yep, you’re angry.
He’s slow to get out of the car, locking it and heading for the door, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. He’s half-expecting the front door to be locked, but it swings open easily, and he sighs, closing it behind him and flicking the lock, hanging his keys on the hook and shucking off his jacket.
He can hear you upstairs, your feet padding across the floor. Even from the bottom of the stairs, he can see the open bedroom door, the light flooding through it. He hears the sink in the ensuite, the television hung on the wall turned on for a few moments before you shut it off again, and then the door slams shut.
Shit.
Ransom doesn’t go upstairs right away, instead padding into the kitchen, pouring himself a drink, leaning against the counter as he sips the liquor. It slides down his throat easily, but does nothing to quell the nerves in his gut. He well and truly fucked up this time; he wouldn’t be surprised if you’re up there packing your things, if he’ll hear you walk out the door in just a few minutes, never to be seen again.
He doesn’t expect you to step into the kitchen halfway through his drink. He nearly chokes on it.
You’re wearing his sweater.
Only his sweater.
You don’t say a word as you walk into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. He just watches, letting his gaze rake over every inch of your body as you find yourself a snack, reaching up on your toes to fish a glass from the cupboard before you fill it with water. That’s his favourite part, watching the sweater ride up your back as you reach up, showcasing the curve of your ass, the scrap of lace that’s barely covering you. You look over your shoulder as you sink back onto your feet, lashes fluttering, and his drink suddenly feels like an iron weight in the pit of his stomach.
“What?” you snap.
“Nothing,” he replies, staring down into his drink. He wishes he could disappear into it. “Look, baby, can we—”
“No.”
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he spits out, the words spewing out of him. “I’m sorry, all right?”
You roll your eyes, planting your hands on the counter and lifting yourself up and onto it. It puts you at eye-level with him. “You’re sorry?” you repeat, your tone dry. “Oh, that’s perfect, Hugh. I feel so much better now, thank you.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Baby, sweetheart, honey,” you spit back, throwing a hand in the air. “I thought it was firecracker.”
“I didn’t mean it!” he nearly shouts, banging his fist on the counter. You don’t flinch, fixing your eyes on his, staring back. “Would you just listen to me for one goddamned second?”
Your brow lifts as you take a sip of your water. You cross your legs, then your arms. “Well? I’m listening.”
There were words. They were right on the tip of his tongue. A confession, an apology, an explanation, something. But then you’d fixed those eyes on him, big and wide, still smudged with makeup from the party, lashes fanned across your cheeks, and they were gone.
“Hugh?” you prompt, and he nearly chokes. Only you call him that, and god fucking damn it, his name sounds like a song from your lips. You blink at him, he blinks back. “I’m listening.”
“Your eyes are so beautiful,” he breathes out, and for a long moment, you just stare at each other, sinking into silence. Carefully, he steps forward, closing the distance slightly, slowly, like you’re a deer in the woods. He doesn’t want to spook you. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t know what I know anymore,” you say flatly, pursing your lips. “I didn’t realize we were just fucking around.”
Ransom groans, tipping his head back on his shoulders as he closes the distance more, until he’s close enough he can plant his hands on either side of you, fingers tapping at the counter. “Baby, you know that’s not true.”
“Oh, do I?” you ask. “Cuz I bet if I asked any of your friends, they’d tell me we’re not dating, that we’re just fucking around, and that I’m a little firecracker in bed.”
“Fine,” he says, and reaches into his pocket, produces his cellphone. You watch with a furrowed brow as he swipes across the screen, dials the number of one of his friends. “Hey, man, it’s me,” he says, and stares you down as he speaks. “Listen, what I said earlier, about the girl?” A pause. “Yeah, the firecracker. Yeah, we’re not just fucking around, all right? We’re together. Officially.” You blink, lips parting. “I’m in love with her.”
He doesn’t wait for his friend to reply, just hangs up, tosses the phone onto the counter.
You’re on him a second later.
He drinks your kiss down, gathering you into his arms as your legs lock around his waist. The sweater somehow feels softer on your body, and you whimper into his mouth as his hands roam, diving beneath the hem and feeling your bare skin.
It sparks like wildfire between you; it always does, but he lets you take the lead. You paw at the buttons on his shirt, fumble with his belt buckle, whine for him to do it for you. So he does, all but tearing his jeans open, sucking down a breath when your hand closes around him. “God damn, baby.”
He returns the touches in kind, dragging his knuckles along the bit of lace, chuckling into your mouth when he feels them soak through, your thighs slick with arousal. Ransom doesn’t waste any time, pulling you closer on the counter, hitching your legs around his hips. You moan when he drags your panties to the side, crooks two fingers deep in you, prodding at the spot he knows makes your toes curl.
“Hugh,” you murmur, fingers curled in the collar of his shirt, hauling him close. “Fuck me, please?”
“Yes, baby,” he agrees, and pushes into you a moment later, palm skirting down to the small of you back, coaxing you closer to him. “Ah, there you are.”
Your head tips back against the cupboard, your arms wrapped around his neck, and he leans in, dragging his tongue along your pulse. Your eyes flutter shut, lips parted as he starts to move, thrusting deep, rolling his hips into yours. You fist the back of his shirt, the other glancing down his chest, nails digging at his skin.
Neither of you are going to last, that much he knows for sure. He can feel it, in your body and his own, and the feeling starts to roll through him as he reaches up, takes your jaw in his hand, angles your face back down towards his. Your eyes are screwed shut, mouth dropped open.
“Let me see those eyes, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss you rough, tasting your tongue with his own before he pulls back. “C’mon, I wanna see those eyes when you cum.”
You nail him with a wide-eyed stare, and he cums so hard his knees nearly give out. You’re not far behind, clenching down on him with everything you have, milking his cock, and he kisses you again.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, moving his lips down to your throat, gathering you impossibly closer. “You hear me? My girl.”
321 notes · View notes
ronearoundblindly · 5 days
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Hi Ro,
I’m doing some afternoon baking and wondering which of your boys has the biggest sweet tooth, favourite treats… any crumbs to toss my way?
Have a great wknd!
💜 M
Welp. We got Sketch, who defers most cake and sweet things to Keeps perhaps (although you have to twist his arm to share the lemon-flavored, top-tier of the wedding cake, womp womp). 🙄
CEO!Stevie tried all those candies to put on ice-cream that one time, but his fave flavor is vanilla, the doof.
Autumn's Steve likes flippin' tapioca pudding, so he has literally aged-out of any discussion... 🤣
Ransom...ok, Ran is a very moody eater, so when he's happy and whatnot, he snacks, and yes, probably prefers sweet snacks. When Ran is stressed, however, he won't touch even his favorite foods. He will bitterly wash that shit down the garbage disposal, complaining the whole time about how his appetite is ruined.
Jakey? He's also a snacker-hacker. He can eat way more salty food by volume than sweet though. He particularly likes the sour gummies and violently biting off the worms' heads, just saying.
Hideout Steve doesn't think about food very much actually. He's focused on sustenance for exactly as long as he has to in order to be sustained, and that's it. He gets cravings, for solitude, comfort, and touch, but not for food. He, uh, he....uh, he likes to eat though...if you 😉 catch my meaning.
WILD CARD: Curtis Everett would eat any sweets until he made himself sick. Every time. You baked cookies? Well, those won't keep after they cool down, their no good then, so you gotta eat 'em all right away. Them's the rules, babe. Baked a whole cake? For goodness sake, do not let Curtis know until long after it's cooled and iced or he will demolish that thing while spooning frosting into his mouth as a topper. It's almost disgusting. He's fantastically unashamed.
Lloyd only truly enjoys food that is off-limits to other people and looks nice. He will eat it if none of it has to be shared and esthetically it looks perfect/near-professional. What a dick. He will also critique everything heavily, and he does not hesitate to spit out something not worth eating.
Did I miss anybody?
Thank you for asking!
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babyjakes · 1 year
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dreamy undoing.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night
summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.
pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader
warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.
word count | 1,517
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requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.
an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)
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"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.
"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"
"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."
From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.
"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."
Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.
Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.
"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.
"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.
"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.
"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.
Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.
"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"
"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.
"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.
"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.
"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"
"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.
Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.
But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.
"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.
"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.
"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"
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quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.
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811 notes · View notes
brandycranby · 9 months
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ce characters + whether your asian parents would like them and how to win them over 🥺😣🫶🏻💕🍵
based on unfortunately realistic intrusive thoughts i have while reading self-insert fics
steve: military? hm. desi peeps leave ur comments bc idk how desi parents feel but i know ALL the east asian and southeast asian parents and grandparents might have something to say about that. the US army has left its mark.. just saying... better highlight his better features such as his sensitive artistic nature!! wait. wait. not that either, no need for them to call him a bum at the dinner table.
just... have him win your mom over with his stunning future son-in-law adorableness and charming smile 😀
andy: lawyer. that's it- no, no it doesn't matter if your EA mom prefers flower boys and he's a little too bearded. lawyer. the desi parents are messaging the Whatsapp group chat, they're calling the fam back in the motherland. look at that beard. lawyer.
tall ✅ upper middle-class ✅ drives an audi ✅ divorced? he has you now.
ari: handsome... ok.. but also. military. hmm. non-religious/non-abrahamic religious peeps, your asian parents might give him a better reception. but um, "divorced?" "has a daughter??" "soldier la??" "he have steady income???" 👁️👄👁️
my super religious background peeps, im so sorry. maybe the part where he's Jewish will get lost in translation. um. that's a fight and a half at the dinner table, good luck 🥲 maybe just elope.
curtis: ... I MEAN IS IT THE APOCALYPSE?? if not, your dad would probably like him. a man's man. strong, silent, built like a brick wall and does whatever DIY project he points him towards when you visit. your mom will call him scary. i don't think that would change whether you're E/S/SEA, your mom is pulling you aside in the kitchen and asking if you're really sure about him.
let Curtis show his gentle side. yeah, he's tall and intimidating but he has a soft heart. tell your lil cousins and niblings to use him as a jungle gym
jake: see Andy above- no, EVEN MORE POWERFUL THAN ANDY. yeah, military veteran, yeah, he's a lil awkward. but. computer science. information technology. wifi. tvs, laptops, phones. your parents are going to turn him into their personal help line and you might have to put a stop to it but goddamn if they don't call him son the minute this convo happens:
"he's in cybersecurity"
"what is cyba-"
"... IT"
"OH EYE-TEE. EYE-TEE VERY GOOD"
ransom: he's rich. he wears L.L. Bean and probably has the Louis Vuitton travel duffle bag. ransom is the nicest dressed, actually fashionable, sleek, and nicest smelling compared to the rest of these bozos. your mom loves him already. your dad is on the fence but also, he's well off enough to take care of you.
don't... say that he writes. yes, he does write. but focus on the fact that he's connected to a big big publishing house. yes yes. if this is an au and he's in charge of Blood Like Wine. BUSINESS OWNER, TAKE THAT.
---
disclaimer, all asian parents different. my dad is a graphic designer/artsy (though idk if he'd want me to date an artist tbh...) if ur parents aren't represented feel free to reblog w ur thoughts 😌
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levans44 · 7 months
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soft spooky headcanons—chris evans characters
soft spooky headcanons (inspired by prompts by @novelbear) in honor of october, for some of my fav ce characters! @brandycranby this is all you babe :)))
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steve: steve takes you on a classic amusement park date to coney island. it's the annual halloween harvest and the whole pier is fully decked out with spooky jack-o-lanterns and skeleton cutouts. you even spot a couple kiddos dressed as captain america in the costume parade ('oh look, you should've worn your suit, babe!'). steve somehow manages to convince you to try out the haunted house, and you venture inside, apprehensive. by the end of the ride, you're clutching onto steve's arm for dear life as he shields you (get it?) from all the cackling clowns and chainsaw murderers chasing you down. 'they're just actors, hon!' he tries not to smile as you glare up at him at the exit, still refusing to let go of his arm. it's okay though—he makes it up to you by winning you a teddy bear with a perfect score at the balloon dart. 'show-off' you grumble, burying your face in the soft plushy as he pulls you into his side, kissing you on the top of your head 🧸💕
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andy: he's been stressed lately, working overtime at the office nearly every day of the week. you surprise him one night with a pumpkin carving date, which ends up stressing him out even more b/c of the way you're holding your knife like that and '—oh, jesus, honey please watch your thumb.' he'd eventually have to abandon his own and come over to help you, his hand on top of yours as he guides you. you both eventually give up on the carving and settle with some take-out from your favorite place, promising to go and shop for some halloween decor first thing tomorrow.
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frank: with mary out trick or treating w/ roberta, you and frank were planning a chill night at home handing out candy to trick or treaters. he didn't have a costume in mind but you'd convinced him to put on a batman mask so you could have matching outfits... he'd be looking in the mirror, complaining about how ridiculous the mask looks when you you'd show up from the other room dressed in a sexy little cat woman get up and, well... he's too busy getting you out of that leather skirt you end up missing most of the trick or treaters at your door 🤦‍♀️ 🤦‍♀️
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ransom: it's date night at his place, and your turn to pick the movie. you settle on your favorite horror movie and get all excited, switching all the lights off in his living room and bringing out some cozy candles, plopping down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and his quilted blankie🥰 he grumbles that horror movies are dumb, but he'd never admit out loud that he secretly hates the jump scares... he'd be cursing a lot at first to act like mr tough man around you😤😤 but by the end he'd pull you onto his lap, squeezing you tight and refusing to let go. you'd pretend not to notice the little high-pitch yelp he lets out at a particularly loud jump scare... you'll just have to save it and tease him about it later 😏
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eloquentreverie · 10 months
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—𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞
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pairing: author! ransom drysdale x female reader
warnings: none. pure fluff. soft!ransom! features poet!ransom too.
𝐚/𝐧: I tried not to make some things too specific but I got a lil carried away!
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧!
Coffee and bookstore dates. Especially in the fall or on really cold days. Ransom knows exactly what he's looking for the moment he enters the bookstore, whereas you can sometimes take hours. You can't help it, especially when it's a very large store.
You get overwhelmed and like to browse through the different genres until he's practically begging you to leave. He can't help but be a little impatient sometimes.
You'll whisper to him, "Just one more minute!" As you browse through one of the romance books casually. He waits and waits until you can feel his shadow hover over you, then his lips grazing over your neck, making you squirm and giggle softly.
Eventually you turn around, close the book and kiss his lips quickly. "Come on, let's go before you get us in trouble.
Ransom likes his quiet time whenever he writes, so you often have to entertain yourself most nights when you're at his house.
Some nights you'll be knitting/crocheting or watching tv or movies until you hear his footsteps and quickly pause whatever you were watching.
You're the first person he goes to when he finally finishes the final draft of his novels. He knows you're not gonna be too harsh with him and he genuinely values your opinion and your thoughts on his writing.
Whenever you're feeling down he likes to give you little gifts. Like your favorite book series, a necklace with your initials on it, and sometimes take you shopping
When you're really upset though, he likes writing you little poems:
I wanna write about the girl in the garden, with daisies in her hair and a heart like a rose, so delicate and precious. She sits alone in the quiet of the evening, listening to the buzzing of the bees and the whispers of the trees. She's been hurt by love before, and she wears her scars like a warrior. But beneath that tough exterior, she's just a soft-hearted girl that wants to be found. I wanna write her letters, filled with kindness and hope, to show her that she's not alone, that she deserves to be loved, that she's worthy of being held.—H.R.D
Oh my love, my heart, let me worship your body. Every inch of your skin, I will kiss with all my devotion, I will whisper kind words in your ear until you can hear the truth, that you are loved, you are cherished, you are wanted, you are special, you are unique, you are a work of art, your scars are proof of your strength, your resilience, they are a testament to the battles you have fought, and the victories you have won, I will embrace every part of you, with all my heart, please know that you are loved, you are precious, you are admired. Please know that you deserve to be happy, and fulfilled and that you are loved, with every breath I take.—H.R.D. Every day with you is a little piece of heaven, you calm my beating heart, silence my restless thoughts, you're the balm to my weary soul, the sweet melody that soothes me, you're the beacon of light in the dark, the warmth that keeps me going. Your laughter is the sound of angels, your touch is like a warm embrace, and you're the reason I smile, the reason I live.—H.R.D.
The first time he ever wrote a poem about you and read it to you, it brought you to tears. Happy tears, of course. And it wasn't until you hugged him and thanked him, that he felt relieved
He likes to tease you about your love for romance novels and the fact that you love classic lit.
I feel like he would be the type of boyfriend that's always begging you to watch horror movies with him, even if it's not spooky season.
Also he loves the fact that you jump or squeal when you get scared watching horror movies because it gives him a chance to pull you closer to him.
Lots of cuddles. And he always wants to be the bigger spoon.
His love language is physical touch. He loves kissing, touching, and even hugging you the moment he walks through the door.
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banner credit: @.saradika
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littlemelaninfics · 1 year
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Can you do soft!daddy Chris and Ransom?
okey i'm getting soft now
Chris:
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I feel like Chris would fall more into the Cg/l (Caregiver/little)
Chris would always dote on his little girl
She could honestly do no wrong and when she did he somehow blamed himself for her behavior
He loved her like no other. She and Dodger would be his entire world
Like imagine her waking him up with breakfast in bed that consisted of burnt toast, spilled cereal and super bitter coffee
His heart would explode and he would tickle her while peppering her with kisses
He would then get up and cook them a nice breakfast while she colored and watched tv
Ransom:
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Ransom on the other hand would be into dummification
He gets off on the fact that he's smarter than her
It comes naturally with the age gap, but when she goes little he can't help but get a little ferral
We all know Ransom is about Ransom, so when this little cloud of sunshine came into his life out of nowhere, his first instinct was to protect
He's be lying if he said she didn't scare him at first, but he adjusted
Ransom is not like Chris in a lot of ways. He has no problem punishing his little one
She would have chores to keep her brain and attention skills sharp
If she missed her bedtime, she would get no dessert the next night
She was also no stranger to spankings and standards
He loved her more than himself, but she had to know her place. And she does
Thanks to Daddy
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Text
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Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:
 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - ransom starts to appreciate the good in his life
𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ♡
summary - the inside of his relationship with his wife
𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 ♡
summary - there’s only one thing you can tell ransom to do that won’t make him so angry.
𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥
summary -  ransom comes home and decides to tease you with your favourite pet name, before taking you to your room to play with his kitten.
𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ♡
summary - the inside life of ransom being married to a fashion designer.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 ➳
summary - you and ransom had thought of playing a game, a game of jealousy. in the beginning, everything was fine, it was fun, but lately, it felt as though he no longer loved you, that he’d rather the women he flirted with. after the party, do you think their relationship can be resolved?
𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ❦❥
summary - you shouldn't have gone for a swim that day, especially when a giant merman is lurking for a little human to breed and keep.
𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡❥➳
summary - you get fucked with a lollipop by your boyfriend ransom.
𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡➳
summary - ransom protects you from the paparazzi.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❦
summary - you are the siren that wants the famous pirate ransom drysdale, and the moment you get close to getting what you want, the universe decides otherwise.
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
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littlelioncub43 · 1 year
Note
What do you think is the love language of Lloyd and ransom? I honestly can't decide
i wanna say acts of service for Lloyd and maybe physical touch for ransom but honestly idk complicated men
You're correct! They are complicated little murderous beans 🥰
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Receiving: Lloyd loves words of affirmation. Tell him he's great, that he's amazing, the best lover you've ever had, how much you appreciate him. It's all about that ego stroke, baby. Phsyical touch, but when the time is right. Don't expect to be hanging off of him every minute of everyday, he's a busy guy! But a well timed kiss or cuddle goes a long way with him.
Giving: Gift giving. He's got schmoney and likes to flaunt it a little. Plus he has a hard time verbally expressing how he feels about you without being vulgar, so giving you things that you want or need are absolutely one of his go-to's. And, you called it, acts of service. He will take care of you. Absolutely.
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Receiving: He's very similar to Lloyd, he likes to have his ego stroked, but he mainly wants to be appreciated. It's more insecure than Lloyd's need for praise. Ransom has been told he's shit for his entire life, so he needs to be told that he's loved and cared for. He's a sad little bean, just love him. Like Lloyd, he can't stand someone hanging off his arm all the time, but he is big on quality time. He just might not interact with you a lot while it's happening. You can do what you need to do, and he'll do what he needs to do, you just happen to be in the same room.
Giving: Gift giving, but mostly because he doesn't know how to be in a relationship that wasn't transactional in a way. So gifts is easy and a no-brainer for him. Quality time, again. He wants to show you he likes being around you, which is a big deal. It might not be all cute and romantic, but he'll sit on the couch with you and read while you work.
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ttyls · 7 months
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I said, "don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi"
Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat
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how dare you 🥺😣😭 it's so "he loves me he loves me not" fwb ransom coded 😭😭 i cant take it
Do you want me or do you not? I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another
that's exactly what i was thinking 😭😭 i had to i had toooo 😖😭🫂
pre-therapy commitment issues ransom hurts so good.... if he doesn't show effort to keep you in his life, then there's no chance of him being hurt if you leave him behind, right? 🥹
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