#ransom reader insert

[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

[heli0s-writes]

You’re Toxic, I’m Slipping Under

Summary: He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it. “See you next week,” he hums.

A/n: To celebrate Glass Onion coming out, here’s ol’ boy Ransom because I hate him so much :) 4.1k words. Warnings: Smut; mild degradation, spitting, daddy kink; classism; Mind Games with Ransom Hour etc. etc. Please stop reading if you’re not 18+

Your whole apartment building seems to rattle when he arrives thirty minutes late. Like raucous fanfare to announce his appearance, the door slams shut, the latch clicks loudly, and then you hear his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

His shoes are still on—of course they are—stomping your floorboards and dragging in dirt. You can practically see them, the usual suede loafers switched out for leather boots with the late fall chill, and probably mud-caked because he’s thankless like that.

With your attention still on your laptop, already irritated because you’ve been attempting a paper that’s only chased its tail for the last three hours, you ask, “Did you misplace your watch, Ransom?”

Turning, you show him you’re the screen reading 8:32 and blink pointedly, “Is that a yes?”

“Don’t be smart,” he snaps back. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your head’s been a mess of fog, body tense and frustrated for days, and although you’ve always prided yourself on tact and grace—patient like a saint—Ransom manages to bring out the worst. You hiss, “Take your damn shoes off, you know I don’t like that.”

You watch mutely as he does so, not without a sneer here, a shitty comment there. He takes three long steps and plops himself on your bed, hands curling into the quilt, thumbs brushing over the patchwork fabric disparagingly. He pinches a loose thread and begins to pull, tugging slowly at first, and then finding joy in unraveling a line of stitching until nearly three inches rip apart.

“I always thought you needed to replace this thing.” He twirls the string disdainfully, “It’s ugly as sin.”

He pretends he doesn’t know how you obviously love this quilt—handstitched and affectionately made, your damn initials are embroidered into the corner, after all. He’s made a game of testing your patience, gleefully punching at every button as he tries to get you to snap.

Ransom Drysdale Thrombey. You’d met him at one of the Thrombey’s family… functions. Dysfunction, you’d muttered under your breath when Walt beat his cane against the floor in a drunken tirade and Meg ran out back to wolf down a pot cookie that she was supposed to be saving for later.

She was on the cusp of a panic attack, words tumbling out like a car crash, her hand in her beret, then hair, then trembling over her maroon-painted lips.

“God, I’m so sorry— I thought we could just make a pit stop before heading out. The food’s always catered and really good— god… it’s a fucking mess.”

You waved her off because it’s not like you haven’t witnessed at least one aunt having a meltdown during holiday dinner before— family’s just like that—and tried to placate her with, “Can’t be worse than the cousin who asked if we’d be scissoring later.”

Meg’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, ew! Fucking Jacob! He’s a skeezy little incel— I swear he’s a moderator on one of those internet forums where they post revenge porn and upskirt vids— honestly, he was adorable two years ago. Then I guess he went through puberty and got radicalized on Youtube.”

You paused as she lit a cigarette and inhaled furiously before realizing that the two of you were thinking of two entirely different cousins.

“I meant the big one, Meg. This one went through puberty twenty years ago.”

“Ew, Ransom,” Meg frowned, “That’s even worse.”

“Ransom? What is he, a Disney villain?”

Leaves crunched behind your back and Meg looked up from flicking ash into the yard toward the sound.

“Let’s be honest, I’ve got the face of a leading man.”

Meg blew smoke at him, as if the fumes were enough to threaten his sensibilities. You figured not, he looked like a cigar smoker anyway—one of those guys who’d dedicate a whole room in their house with the humidity just right to keep them fresh. Rich people shit.

“Go away, Ransom,” she said, to clarify.

“I don’t recall addressing you, Megan.” He took a drawn-out look, lips pursing in scrutiny before lifting a brow, making a real goddamn show about it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite. 400 on the dresser for an hour; you can get yourself something nice.”

You’re still not sure what it was about either your attire or attitude that allowed him to conjure up such an offer.

Maybe it was your shitty jeans and your sweater from freshman year orientation. Maybe you looked like an easy mark to tear down.

His audacity shocked out a laugh from you—a loud, abrupt guffaw that eased Meg enough for her to dip back inside to grab more from her stash. And when she was out of sight, focused on rummaging in the old clock, you responded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll bite back.”

Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your background in contrast to all this excess. The bitter aftertaste of eating bottom shelf food out of necessity for weeks at a time—those awful chicken bouillon packets and dried blocks of instant noodles your first year of college. No one paid for your schooling or housing so learning to balance an over-abundance of classes and a job because you needed to graduate early, needed to spend less money on tuition, meant that you were working yourself to death.

If Youtube radicalized Jacob, then habitually sleeping three hours a night in the campus library and skipping meals to afford textbooks while men like Ransom crashed Maserati’s for fun radicalized you.

So, sure. Game on.

He picked you up the following weekend without anyone knowing and took you somewhere expensive. It was a whirlwind of exorbitant dinners and being quietly sneered at down the straight line of his tall nose bridge. The front door to his bachelor pad shutting but not bothered with locking. Falling into the thousand-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets naked, the skylight’s beam spilling like gold-flecked champagne.

You promised yourself it meant nothing. Just an experiment of unbridled spite. If he wanted to throw money at you, hell, that’s his problem. If he wanted to fuck you, well, you’d give him the best fuck of his life— let him see that despite wealth, at the end of the day, he was flesh and blood trembling for the right stroke.

And sure, he trembled, but it was your mistake to pare it down so simply.

Ransom juggled fuck buddies much longer than you’d been fucking at all. He knew it was best with the right amount of emotion involved. Just enough to yearn. If he laid roses at your feet, kissed your knees featherlight and worked his way up to your jaw, cradled the back of your head, nosed the pulse of your wrist, your collarbones, asked for your eyes on him, and panted the lightest breath of your name at the edge of it all—now who’s fucking who over, sweetheart?

You were out of your depth. He was powerful, older, and more experienced. He touched you in ways that emulated affection—that brought fire and danger. His hands were large and callused at the juncture of his fingers. His pretty mouth was pink, wet, kissed greedy. His sharp eyes took everything in.

But, as you predicted, his moods soon volleyed in every direction as consequence of never being told no, and once the novelty of crazy hot—often angry—sex grew stale, you crashed back down to earth burned out. You ghosted.

“You’re, what…” he called through the door the week after you texted that it was both too much and not enough to carry on with, “breaking up with me? Seriously. This is a fucking joke.”

And you could have practically seen it—how his bottom lip would jut out as his incisors crossed, how his brows would sink when he got angry. He was never belligerent, only calculating.

You told him to leave, and he did, after a single loud kick to the frame, because he’s never begged for anything, and he wasn’t going to start.

The guilt came afterwards, with the bouquet of roses on the doormat, petals scattered around because he’d slammed them down after being ignored again and again, and you swept them inside to throw into a vase next to the three other vases with flowers in various degrees of wilted.

“Breaking up” prickled complicatedly in the middle of your chest, because despite the many shows of affection, you knew you weren’t exactly breaking up. You had never really been with him anyway. People aren’t… with Ransom. They’re towed along by Ransom, dragged by their hair by Ransom. Played with by Ransom until he inevitably gets bored.

It devolved into needless melodrama. Weekly episodes of a teen show with grandiose gestures of toxic relationships perceived as romance. Ransom’s habit of whisking you away, fucking you senseless, turning around to fight with you about any-goddamn-thing he pleased. Dropping off flowers and champagne. Restarting the whole process.

It wasn’t healthy—isn’t healthy, probably, according to most therapists—since he’s here, present-day, in your room, beginning to undress.

You fiddle with the sleeves at your elbows, thumbing cool satin before advancing, arms subconsciously crossed.

He’s only in his underwear now. A pair of nondescript gray boxer briefs fitted on his muscular thighs, taut as he leans back on his palms. He slowly spreads his legs, inviting you between them. His lips purse when you stand passively, knee brushing his bulge, hands resting over his shoulders. He’s warm.

One palm caresses your lower back and the other on himself, gliding up and down. His lids are half open, voice low, “You miss this?”

“No,” which is a lie. You missed it when evenings were boring, half-heartedly nodding to some boy’s drivel about campus life, mind wandering to someone who didn’t look freshly 21, didn’t date like it. Didn’t talk themselves up just to get you into bed.

At least Ransom was honest; he always said exactly what he thought, told you exactly when you were pissing him off, how he was going to teach you a lesson—where he wanted you, how he wanted you, and— a chill races up your arms.

He’s downright smug when he notices.

“No? You prefer sloppy frat boys pawing at you like virgins over me? Every time, you think they might fuck right but, well, you’re always disappointed.” He reaches beneath the short hem of the robe, splays his hand out over your thigh and very slowly feels his way up.

Your eyes shutter as he pulls you forward, gripping tightly and massaging up toward your ass. The pit of your belly is tightening, the rest trying to push down being too eager for him all over you, his broad shoulders, his strong hands, how he bends his grasp on your shoulder, fixes you in a perfect curved arch just the way he likes.

Ransom noses the robe out of his path, sinking his teeth lightly down until he scrapes a line over your breastbone, laying his face gently down like a child—like a lover.

“You know,” he begins, taunting again, “You make a… face.” He says it as he trails down beneath the swell of one breast, letting your nipple graze his cheek, before he presses a kiss to your ribcage. Hot like a brand, searing into your belly. And then he bites.

You flinch, hand going to his hair to pull him away. He throws his head back into your grasp, eyes glittering and amused. He quickly works your thighs apart, dipping two fingers between and sinking into your heat.

“There it is,” he chuckles when your eyes flutter, “Yeah... Really gets me off.”

You’re in his lap before you know it, your hold on him fallen off and now scrambling for his wide shoulders to hold yourself steady. He’s got you leaned back on his thighs, hanging off the edge of the bed and perfectly helpless, the only thing planting you even close to secure are your folded knees, your arms around his neck. He’s shushing you, one large hand on the small of your back, the other still working inside your pussy.

He says, “Calm down unless you want to fall,” but it’s goddamn hard when your heart is pounding with equal parts fear and arousal. He’s sucking on your tits, balancing you just precariously enough to thrill, fingering you all the while—like it’s nothing to him, like you’re an object he can manipulate however he pleases.

His cock is erect, flexing against the fabric over his groin, a swell of hard, aching muscle. You want to put your hand around it, feel its girth in your palm, simply hold it because you do fucking miss it. The places he can reach, the ways he spreads you, rocking in and pulling out—how he sometimes settles inside, and then does nothing but watch you squirm.

It’s undeniably gorgeous—and he is too—when you fumble it out after he lays you down and hovers over you with interest. You’re wetting your lips automatically, staring in awe at his thick shaft sprouting from soft, dark, curls, the tip of it smooth and almost purple, swollen up with blood.

“Legs up,” and the way he says it, how he just goes right out and says it, makes you groan.

Boys don’t do that. Too busy in their heads about peacocking and re-enacting the kind of porno where performers wordlessly move into new positions in sync, nothing verbal exchanged but high-pitched shrieking and nasally fuck me’s.

Ransom’s extremely verbal in bed. He easily says, “Look at me. Show me how much you want it,” and flits his eyes between your bodies.  

You do, shivering, sliding two fingers along the sides of your folds, finding yourself aroused and damp, humiliated and incredibly turned on when he grins, simply content with watching. Your thighs are squeezing reflexively, abdomen crunching up trying to keep it together.

But he’s never been patient, and quickly tells you to hold your knees, rock back, make yourself small and exposed, and then he’s delving gently into your hole— thumbs taking turns, coaxing more.

Two fingers tuck in, then another two struggle next to them, and you can’t stop yourself from gasping and crying out at how he pulls apart the walls of your cunt.

The sound of it— sloppy, squelching, a light and hollow kind of noise like a tongue flicking inside an open mouth.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” He tugs a little more, and you wriggle into it, gripping your legs tighter, pulling your knees up, shins toward your burning face to hide.

He descends on your clit, tip of his tongue licking into your stretched hole, purposefully only running against the taut skin around his fingers. “You got a talent, baby,” he murmurs, buzzing. “I could fuck you the whole day, fuck you numb… but give you about half an hour and it’s good as new, tight and perfect.”

There had been marathon rounds of bouncing in his lap between being at each other’s throats, his thighs splitting yours, hands holding you up, nibbling at your ear. Then he’d turn you around, take you to the floor until you collapsed on the bearskin rug, the sweat on your neck and chest rolling into dark furs. Railed you until you were so sensitive anything would make you come; your body unsure if it was considered your own anymore.

Fuck, fight, rinse, and repeat.

“Are you—going to talk all night?” You grunt up to the ceiling, trying to steel yourself from panting or moaning and only barely making it.

“Thought you liked it when I talked.”  His dark head is still between your legs, nose pressed into your skin, licking agonizingly slow with his entire tongue. It’s so warm, and gentle, and assertive. “What, you don’t like being told how good you taste?”

He keeps licking, pushing at the back of your knees when you try to switch positions, holding you in that bent up pose. He’s suckling at your clit when his fingers find their way back inside, easily hooking in three and pumping them smoothly.

“How—” he sucks hard, the shape of his full, plush lips fitted over you making a filthy wet smack, “mmm—I love the taste of your sweet pussy?”

When you come like it’s being ripped out of you, legs shaking around his head, lines of his spit dripping down your ass and onto the sheets, he lets you go with a hard slap on your sex, and you nearly wail.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “Yeah, you missed me, huh? You missed it like this, didn’t you? Tell me.”

“Unnng …” a high whine, “Ransom.”

“I know,” he mumbles, kissing up your belly, your neck, your ear.

He moves into position, entering effortlessly after all his prep work, and the shine of your juice still on his beard is fucking unholy hot. He’s grinning and panting, eyes fluttering briefly as he slides home.

“I know it’s big, baby. But you can take it, you’re gonna take it.” He’s a fraction unfocused, letting himself enjoy how you squeeze around him before he begins to punish.

Jesus, you missed this. Missed the agonizing drag of his shaft that feels like it goes on and on forever. Miss the way you get full of him, miss how it almost hurts.

His hipbones are hitting against yours, a steady fast rhythm because he’s experienced like that. Whereas some others might go faster when you’re close, Ransom stays at the pace that got you there in the first place. If anything, he pushes just a bit harder, makes you listen to the sound of his skin on yours, the choke of your breath he punches out.

You crunch yourself up smaller, toes touching the headboard now. Anything to get him further in.

“Fuck, you’re a slut,” he laughs. “Pretty little slut, god you don’t give it up like this for anyone else, do you?”

There’s not enough sense in you to argue even if you wanted to. The room is swimming, undulating, slipping further and further out of reach as the bed rocks and squeaks in protest. You’re sure you met a very handsome guy at the bar weeks ago but as soon as he started hinting that he was interested and stirred up conversation by asking your major, you left.

It just… wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same. No way in hell.

That boy wouldn’t have done this—wouldn’t be planting one foot on the bed, the other knee still down, enormous hands tight on your hips and crashing in.

You could cry, it feels so goddamn good.

Tears dribble their way out from the corner of your eyes. You turn your face enough to get a breath of fresh air, gulping it in frantically between the drive of Ransom’s cock and the half second he slides out.

You vaguely register his hand moving from your hip to your cheek, knuckles brushing upward.

“Oh,” he sighs, “pretty, pretty girl.” He slows his pace, nearly stilling. You squirm beneath him, inching away from how deep he is inside you, how intimate it feels as he kisses the hollow of your cheek and then toward your brow.

“So sweet for me,” he says, pulsing, making you whine with how he pushes against your sore walls. “Did I make a slut out of you? Huh? Make you stupid for my dick?”

“Make me come,” you say. “Make me—“

“Ask me real nice, baby. Ask daddy to make you come.”

You want to hit him. Kill him.

“No?” He whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, “You don’t want it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassment clawing up your face, but Ransom’s hold is tighter, sharper, and he really is— so fucking right. You want it. And he’s made you a little stupid, so yeah--

“Please make me come, daddy. I wanna come.”

The Cheshire grin that unfurls on his face is more panther than cat. “You wanna come on daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you admit. “I wanna so bad.”

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you. You put on a little show just for me? Act like you don’t want it but soon as I get in you and you let me lay you out anywhere, make you say anything.”

You turn away but he’s got your fucking number— got you as a boneless, spineless mess beneath him as he begins to fuck you again, and harder, his calculating, beautiful, cruel face hanging above you like a fever dream.

“You gonna come? Gonna cry?”

He’s melting away, he’s everywhere, and the lights behind your eyelids are starting to glare and threaten to explode.

“Gonna come for daddy, huh. That’s it, baby. That’s my girl, let me feel your pussy— ah— there it is— you can’t help it, can you? Mmm, swallow daddy’s cock with your pussy.”

Your orgasm is a wreck of curses and teeth on Ransom’s shoulder when he drops down close enough to make contact. You shake and whimper, struggling to calm yourself through the aftershocks.

When you’re done, still floaty but more aware, the mess of your humming insides less tight around him, he pulls out and shuffles up until his swollen tip is at your chin.  

You obey wordlessly, and afterwards, when the flex of his shaft is tell-tale, and he empties into your mouth, you hold it there, show him the mess.

“Baby,” he says, slowly making his way back down, admiring the come submerging your tongue.

Ransom licks his lips, licks the inside of his cheek, and leans back over again, his eyes liquid darkness and pleased as punch. And he drops a line of spit on top, drools it down over your teeth, into your mouth, and says, “Good girl.”

-

“You need a new laptop.” He’s tugging his belt until the clasp hooks into place.

“I don’t.”

“It looks old.”

“So do you.”

He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it.

“See you next week,” he hums.

You don’t say anything in response, only listening for the same heavy footsteps slam back downstairs—perhaps a fraction lighter—and the clunk of the door swinging shut. A long breath and you stretch slowly, letting your body regain its normal shape before he bent you into a goddamn pretzel. A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and you hear the roar of his car speed out of the parking lot.

Safe now, out of his reach, you amble back up into your computer chair to face the awful white, blank document staring back like a judgmental audience. You slide in and crack your neck, feeling the throb between your thighs yield to a less uncomfortable ache.

The problem, you’ve learned after leaving Ransom’s world, was that you had been ill-equipped to play his game. His game, and by extension, Meg’s game. All the Thrombeys and Drysdales and everyone in-between.

They belonged to a class you couldn’t really understand unless you were making a fucking killing—and graduation was just around the bend, so maybe you would, one day—but you were in the red with 45 grand of student debt and staring down the barrel of a subsequent degree because it was getting hard to make it with just a single bachelor’s in anything.

There was too much to do and not enough time to be jerked around by Ransom—not nearly enough time to feel frustrated about your situation in any sense. No, scraping by taught you to survive. You couldn’t be whisked off to the Caymans for brunch, couldn’t be fucked raw in hotel infinity pools, get lost for days meandering the Pacific on luxury yachts for the fun of it.

Your world was a little more drab, a little less rose-tinted.

So it was back to normal now, back to the grind, back to not wasting any part of your week on shitty dates, shitty sex, and coming home more frustrated than you left it. Because there was Ransom, so eager to make some kind of statement about proving you wrong that he’d be the last to know when he’s being used.

And maybe 4 out of 5 therapists would say that your coping mechanism to a normal sex drive is unhealthy—mind-fucking and regular-fucking your ex/not-ex will do that—but you wouldn’t know. You can’t afford therapy just yet.

You rub your back, patting out the tightness of overworked muscles. It doesn’t feel any worse than the cramp you’d gotten after staying up three nights in a row cramming for finals.

As if your brain has reset, your fingers begin tapping on the keys, and you realize your writer’s block’s been lifted.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey #knives out #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #reader insert #fanfiction #ransom drysdale thrombey

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Who'd You Have to Blow to Get That Part?"

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Tags: mild D/s elements, mild degradation, reference to past sexual encounters, slight daddy kink, lovers to enemies

Summary: Ransom won't let you leave the room until you agree to go out with him again.

You’ve been ignoring Ransom’s calls for a week when he finally corners you in your dressing room

“Well well well,” he simpers. “The Lyceum. You’re really making your way up from the chorus line, little girl.” You glare at him and he chuckles, doing a slow walk around your body, appraising you in a way that manages to feel both admiring and ridiculing at the same time. He plucks at the ribboned hoop of one of your panniers as he passes. “Well, la-dee-da,” he mocks. “What on earth is this? I think I like it.”

You swat at his retreating hand with a huff. “Who let you back here, Ransom?” 

“Oh didn’t you know I know everybody? The director’s an old friend. He knows I have an interest in … the theater. Said I could poke around backstage if I wanted.”

“Great. I’m sure he didn’t mean in my dressing room.”

“Your very own dressing room, by the way: how fancy.” He doesn’t look at you as he says it, instead sauntering along past the couch and then over to the dressing table, feeling free to snoop around. You cringe when his fingers drag across the vanity top and land on the script you’ve left lying there. He picks it up and starts flipping through its pages. “Hmm …”

You fluster at the idea of him seeing all the notes you’ve scribbled in the margins. “Do you mind not touching my stuff?” you gripe. “Ugh.” Looking around for your robe, you spot it draped over the back of the dressing chair but realize that it won’t stretch around when you’re wearing the panniers. You huff and try to plant your hands on your hips assertively—a motion that is likewise hindered. You settle for gripping the sides of your whalebone-stiffened waist. “I don’t have time for this. Why are you here?”

“You’re one of the leads,” Ransom says, feigning impressed as he waves the packet of papers in the air. “So Daddy finally bought you a speaking part, huh?”

You feel your cheeks heat, hating him with every fiber of your being. “No,” you grit, hurrying over to snatch the script from his hands and set it back on the table. “I got this part myself, you insufferable piece of shit.”

“Been practicing those blowjob skills, then?”

Your jaw works as you fight not to react. “Why are you here?”

“I tried calling,” he says. “But you’re surprisingly hard to get a hold of these days.”

“Ever consider that I lost your number?”

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s it.” He smirks and leans in close enough that you can smell his cologne, can see every detail of that stupid-pretty face, the hair that’s gelled and combed to perfection. He looks good, just like he always does, which only makes you hate him more. “I haven’t seen you twirling in your usual circles, bunny,” purrs. "Not since we parted ways. What’s it been now, three months?”

“Five,” you say tightly. “Though who’s counting?”

“Clearly not you,” he teases, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll admit I’ve hardly thought of you at all, since then, but …” He’s wearing a camel-colored coat and cashmere scarf, and he reaches past said coat’s lapel to produce a single, long-stemmed rose, presenting it to you with an earnest pout. “I heard about the role. Thought I’d stop by and congratulate you, see how you’re doing.” He lets his gaze drag over your half-dressed form again, eyeing you up appreciatively. “I still think about you, you know.”

“I thought you’d hardly thought about me at all."

He looks surprised for a second, before he’s chuckling at you again with that trademark blend of affection and condescension that you wish you hated more than you do. “Oh, bunny,” he coos, nudging your chin with the rose’s fragrant bloom. “You pay attention to what I say. I always liked that about you. That’s just how you are, isn’t it? So attentive, such a good girl.” You color mightily at that, too flustered to think of a waspish response like you want to. He sees this and smirks, dragging the rose’s velvet petals over your lips and humming in satisfaction when you hastily snatch it from his hand. “There we go,” he praises softly. “Pretty flower for a pretty girl. Though I worry how you’re doing when you don’t turn up in public for months on end.”

You force a prim smile. “That’s sweet, but I don’t need you to worry about me, or bring me gifts.” You turn around and stick the rose into a nearby vase, which already has a number of similar blossoms in it. Ransom’s is the biggest and freshest, but you rearrange it into the middle of the pack so that it doesn’t stand out as much. “And I’m doing just fine, if you really want to know.”

“Are you, though?” he presses. He steps closer, close enough that the frame of the panniers presses against his pants, and it’s easy for him to reach up and finger the strap of your stays. “I seem to remember you being quite the social butterfly.”

“Yep. That’s me.”

“You’ve missed the last several big events of the season, and I know you well enough to know that it’s not like you to play the shut-in.” He traces the strap from your shoulder, down to the top of the busk. You see his blond eyelashes lower onto his smug fucking cheeks as he shamelessly leers at the swell of your breasts, his fingers hovering just over the skin. “Who’re you supposed to be?” he asks. “Marie Antoinette?”

You scoff and push past him. “Unlike you, I get busy. I actually work for a living. And yes, that sometimes means that frivolous parties aren’t my number one engagement. So if you’ll excuse me.” You’re supposed to be over in wardrobe, getting fitted for your costumes. Danielle is probably already waiting for you. But Ransom blocks the door when you try to leave, and he does nothing to disguise the way he looks at your body when you stand back to regard him with another huff. “Ransom, move.”

“You should wear corsets more often,” he drawls, ignoring your protests entirely. “It actually makes your waist look tiny.”

You glare at him and try to move around him to grab the door handle, but he leans back against it so that you can’t pull it open. He grins, eyes raking over you from head to toe. You fight not to squirm, feeling more ridiculous than anything else, decked out as you are in your eighteenth century reproduction undergarments. You sigh and stand back, frustrated at how goddamn entitled he is. “What do you want?” you ask, knowing that he wouldn’t be here bugging you right now if he didn’t want something. 

“I want to give us another try,” he says. 

You wait for the punchline, or for him to crack a mean smile and laugh at how gullible you are, but neither happens and you’re left standing there blinking at him like a dummy, heart in your throat. “What?” 

“You heard me.” He pushes off from the door and stares you down as he steps up close. He cups your face in a palm that’s soft from never having seen a day of work in its life. You have to fight not to press your cheek into it, and of course he notices, the overconfident prick. “I think we called things off too soon,” he murmurs. “Don’t you?”

“‘We’? You’re the one who ended it.”

He frowns thoughtfully. “Hhhm, did I though?”

“Yes.”

“Ehh, I don’t know if I remember it that way.”

You purse your lips. “I said I wanted to be exclusive, and you called me clingy.”

“Well that’s hardly ‘ending’ things …”

You scoff. “You said my pussy wasn’t ‘anything to write home about’ and left me at the restaurant.”

“Hmm. Well … maybe I was too hasty.”

“Yeah, right. ‘Hasty’.” More like genetically predisposed to assholery, you think.

“Hey, I mean it.” He grabs you when you try to move around him, holding you still by your upper arms.

“Let me go.”

“Maybe I never gave things between us a real chance, bunny” he says, trying to ply you with his words and sheer proximity. “That’s what I’ve been thinking these past months. That I let you go too soon, didn’t think things through. That I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“More like your dick,” you mutter, but he ignores you. 

“After all, we had good times together, didn’t we? And you always look amazing on my arm, and the sex was soo …” he trails off, letting his fingers trace your skin. His mouth twitches when he notices your breathing picking up, your chest heaving visibly against the front of the stays. “Come on, princess. Just think about it,” he coaxes, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “You and I fit so well together. Don’t you remember how it was?”

You shiver instinctively, body reacting to the words he’s murmuring so intimately against you, to the way he’s touching you like he owns you. “Ransom,” you breathe. “I don’t—”

“I miss you, you know. I do. In my life, in my bed. I don’t like waking up alone.”

You ignore the flutter in your belly at hearing him admit that, and force yourself to shrug his hands away. “Well that would be your problem, not mine,” you say. He’s not good for you, and letting him bust in like this and insinuate himself back into your life will only lead to disappointment at best, heartbreak at worst. “Excuse me,” you grit when he walks backwards to block the door again. So fucking entitled. “Seriously, Ransom. I have somewhere to be!”

“I don’t really care. We’re not finished here,” he growls, eyes losing their charming sheen. “You can leave when I’m done talking to you.”

Your core clenches at those domineering words, and you have to square your jaw before you can bring yourself to insist, “Ransom, get out of the way. I’m warning you …”

“No, I’m warning you,” he says darkly, grabbing your arm and yanking you in hard against him. You gasp and catch yourself with a hand against his chest, but he keeps you off balance as his other arm scoops in behind you and holds you tight to him by your lower back. “Mmm, I like this,” he purrs, fingers finding the laces of your stays and grabbing onto them. He grabs you by the back of your neck with one hand while he tugs at the laces with the other. “Makes a nice handle. Good for moving you where I want you.”

“Get your hands off me.”

He tugs the laces again, jostling you forcefully. “Thought you liked it when I handle you.”

“What I’d like is for you to let me go,” you grit. 

But he only narrows his eyes and sticks his face closer in yours. When he speaks, his breath fans out warm against your lips. “You’re confused, bunny. I should bend you over that vanity and remind you just how much you like it.”

To your shame, his manhandling and his domineering words turn you on, and you know he can tell—he can always tell what he does to you. That’s part of what makes him so infuriating, and so dangerous. “Let go of me,” you say lowly, surprised (and disappointed) when he actually listens, his hands releasing you so suddenly that you stumble back a step in your heels. His eyes bore into you slyly as you huff and right yourself. “What is your problem?!” you fume at him. 

“Come with me to the Governor’s Ball,” he demands, confident and cocky as always, as if the past few minutes and your numerous refusals haven’t even happened. “You have an invitation, I presume?”

You glower at him. “Of course I do, you twat.” Given that your father is the Governor, it’d be odd indeed if you didn’t have an invite. “Awful presumptuous of you that I don’t have plans to go with somebody else,” you snap. “After the way you treated me? I wouldn’t take you as my date to a dive bar.”

He chuckles, and it’s in that low, self-assured way that drives you absolutely bonkers and makes you feel like a “pick me” girl all at the same time. “Oh, bunny. You think I don’t know you better than that?”

You shoulder your way around him to yank open the door. “You don’t know me at all, jerk.” 

You inhale sharply when his hand clamps around your wrist and he shoves into you from behind suddenly, pressing you up against the door and slamming it shut with your combined bodyweight. “I know you better than any man alive, princess,” he hisses, grinding his hips against your ass and kissing your cheekbone in gentle counterpoint when you gasp at his audacity. “Shhh shsh,” he hushes. “Don’t worry, now. You’ll have an excellent time, I promise. Now, you go get fitted for your little costume, and I’ll send a car to pick you up Saturday evening. Say nine o’clock?”

You huff, flustered by what an utterly presumptuous asshole he is (and by the way your cunt is clenching on nothing, being pressed up against a surface full-body by him like this). “You know what your problem is, Ransom?”

He drags his nose across your cheek with a chuckle. “What’s that, bunny?”

You can’t get as much leverage as you’d like, pressed up against the door the way you are, but you do your best and jab back into his solar plexus. And his shocked, breathless grunt is a satisfying indicator that your elbow has met its mark. You turn around and take his face between your hands to peck a kiss of your own to his cheek. “It’s that people’ve been paid to make you think you’re better than you are your whole life,” you whisper sweetly. You kiss his cheek and then let him go, leaving the room before he can regain his breath.

Masterlist

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AFG Dark bingo @anyfandomgoesbingo @anyfandomdarkbingo

Card: sarahyellow/sarah-writes-stucky

Square B3: "Lovers to enemies"

@badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarahyellow/sarah-writes-stucky

Square I5: "thwarted escape"

@blackhawkfanatic

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #ransom x reader #ransom x y/n #ransom x you #chris evans #chris evans characters #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #bad things happen bingo #any fandom goes bingo #bingos n bangs

[the-iceni-bitch]

You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again

Part X/X

Pairing: soft!stepbrother Alpha Ransom Drysdale x stepsister!fem Omega reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: You and Ransom navigate the aftermath of everything that’s happened, and finally start your new life together.

Chapter Warnings: explicit language, A/B/O, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, knotting), pregnancy symptoms, mentions of violence (nothing in detail just referenced), minor manipulations, hints at other series in the AU, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: It’s finished!!!! They’ve got their semi-happy ending and they made it all the way through. Our soft babies deserve all the happiness and safety and for nothing bad to happen to them ever again.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“Are you goddamn insane?” Ransom put his hands on his hips and drew in a deep breath as he stared at Harlan incredulously, tapping his foot and scoffing when the older man just shrugged and nodded. “I’m not a fucking politician.”

“Neither is he.” Harlan took a slow sip from his mug of coffee as he watched Ransom closely. “But as you’ve found out, the interests he’s controlled by are especially unsavory, whereas the only interest you’d be beholden to is mine.”

Ransom groaned as he sank into the chair on the other side of the desk, leaning his head back and letting his eyes fall closed as he tried to get a grip on himself.

He knew that asking for Harlan’s help would have strings attached, but this was something else. The two of you couldn’t be in the city anymore, though, not after idiots from your father’s church had started waiting outside the apartment to harass you and call you a filthy Omega slut every chance they got. Ransom was getting sick of calling the cops every fucking day, and he hated how absolutely terrified you had become. You’d practically refused to leave for your OB/GYN appointment yesterday, and it was making Ransom worried about your pup.

But Harlan could help you. He had the extra property outside of the city, access to medical personnel that would come directly to you, and private security, god the private security alone should make whatever he wanted from Ransom worth it. You were giving him his first great grandchild, he should have been willing to give you everything. And he was, but with his own price.

“She’s not coming on the campaign trail if I do this.” Ransom hated the thought of actually having to be a fucking dancing monkey for his grandfather, but then he remembered how panicked and distressed you had been when the brick had been thrown through your window three days ago, and how long it had taken him to settle you down and get you to sleep. “I’m not going to exploit her for political points.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you let the press run that story about her. Yes I know, you didn’t ‘let’ them, but they ran it, and now the Omega rights activists want a piece of her.” Harlan shook his head when Ransom buried his head in his hands and groaned again. “I agree with you, though, I don’t want her traveling right now. I will happily keep her and my great grandchild safe and happy no matter what, but that man is dangerous, and besmirching our family’s reputation, and you’ve afforded me a very unique opportunity to get rid of him.”

“By pimping me out?” Ransom snorted at the no nonsense look on Harlan’s face. “What about Linda?”

“Your mother took a calculated risk by marrying him, it’s not my fault it’s blowing up in her face.” Harlan sighed when Ransom still looked wary, tapping his fingertips on his desk and leaning forward with a small frown on his face. “He’s running unopposed, but the research shows that someone young and sympathetic could run away with the election easily. You won’t have to worry about her at all, I even have a new house just a little less than an hour away that I can set you both up in, and a secure estate in Washington for when you win the election.”

“If I win.” Ransom hadn’t worked a day in his life, he didn’t know why his grandfather was taking for granted that he could win a damn senate race.

“When, I’m backing you, and I only back winners.” The pleased smile teasing Harlan’s lips did not escape Ransom, the younger man blowing out a deep breath and giving him a resigned nod. “Excellent, I will set up a meeting for you with the speech writer and campaign manager later in the week. I want you both here at the manor until after the pregnancy, I have medical staff on site and I’d feel better knowing she has everything she needs without having to travel. Oh, hello dear!”

Ransom started when you shuffled into the room with Harlan’s nurse, he thought her name was Marla. You actually looked somewhat relaxed, and it made his heart melt, the small smile on your face getting wider when he rose to his feet and cradled your jaw in his hands as you chirped softly.

“How was your walk, bunny?” Ransom kissed the tip of your nose and chuckled at how chilly it was. “Is it cold outside?”

“Just a little, it’s nice though.” You purred when he slid a hand down to rest against your growing bump, placing your hand over his and scenting his cheek when you felt a small kick. “Pup seemed to like it, she’s been so active. And it’s beautiful and quiet, and the dogs are so sweet.”

“I’m so glad, bunny.” Ransom took a deep breath and gave Harlan a sideways look before leaning down to rub your noses together. “Would you like to stay here for a bit, bunny? Harlan has agreed to let us stay here until she comes while he helps me find a new place outside of the city.”

“Really?” You looked so happy, beaming with watery eyes when Ransom nodded and turning to Harlan. “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Thrombey, the city is so terrifying and there’s too many people, I just…”

“Oh, my dear girl, it’s alright.” Harlan stood up and took your hands in his when you started crying happy tears, smiling warmly at you while Ransom rested his chin on the top of your head. “And you need to start calling me Harlan, you're carrying my great granddaughter. You are always welcome here.”

“Thank you, Harlan.” You drew in a shuddering breath and chirped again when Ransom slid his arms around you and kissed your temple. “I promise we’ll treat your house like our own, we can’t thank you enough.”

“Al-alpha…” you whined when Ransom grunted against your neck as he drove his cock into you again, your cunt spasming around him when you came without warning as his balls smacked against your clit. “More, don’t stop.”

“Greedy little bunny.” Ransom cooed and grinned into your shoulder when you just shoved your hips back and bit your pillow as you made desperate noises for him. “You’ve already had three, how many more do you want?”

“All of them, please…” you didn’t even care when you felt warmth starting to stream down your chest while he squeezed your breasts, your arms giving out and your toes curling when he brought you to the edge again right away. “It’s so good.”

“It is so good, Omegamine.” Ransom chuffed and sucked on your mark when he felt you gushing all over his thighs. “This poor pussy is so needy, so hungry all the time.”

“Mmhm.” You gasped and your back arched violently when you came again, your swollen belly brushing against the bed while your pussy squirted for him. “Need my Alpha, don’t want you to go.”

“Oh, bunny, shit.” Ransom slowed down when he heard the emotion in your voice, cradling your chin gently and turning your head so he could press his lips to yours. “I hate it too, sweet girl, but I have to do these town halls.”

“I know, oh!” Your eyes fluttered closed when his knot swelled and locked you together, sighing when you were flooded with warmth and he rolled the both of you onto your sides. “I understand, but she’s going to be here so soon, I worry about you missing it.”

“I won’t miss our girl finally getting here, I promise.” Ransom stroked your hair as your breathing started to slow down, kissing your cheek and rumbling for you when you started fussing with the blankets and your milk soaked nightie. “Harlan said he’d send a helicopter if I need it, he would kill me if I wasn’t here for you.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” You giggled a little when Ransom nibbled on your ear, winding your fingers through his when he rested them on your stomach.

“Yes, he would.” Feeling you relax made Ransom smile against your cheek. “I’m pretty sure he likes you more than me.”

“Mmhm.” You peeked at him over your shoulder and sank your body into his when he trailed soft kisses along your jaw. “Just promise me you’ll be home tonight?”

“I promise.” He kissed your mark almost reverently as his hand rubbed your belly gently and crooned against your skin. “I’ll always come home to you.”

“No.” Ransom frowned when he looked over the agreement Andy had placed in front of him, tossing it on the desk and leaning back in his chair while the bearded man let out a deep sigh. “I told you, she’s not testifying. Tell the DA she can have a written statement or come up with a better plea agreement so she doesn’t have to go to trial. She’s not setting foot in a courtroom with that bastard.”

“DA isn’t gonna like that.” Andy shrugged and grabbed the takeout container he had set aside. “She’ll get over it though, she likes me. Hates that fucker, she wants to nail him to the damn wall.”

“Good.” Ransom snarled when his thoughts dwelled on Lance for just a few seconds, wishing like he did every time that he had killed the asshole when he had the chance. “Hope she cuts his fucking knot off.”

“She would if she could.” Andy snorted before shoving some noodles into his mouth. “Can you get her statement to me by next month?”

“I think so.” Ransom cocked his brow at Andy when the man practically growled when his paralegal came into the room to hand him some paperwork, not missing how his eyes raked over her possessively when she walked away before he turned his attention back to his friend. “Pup is due any day and that could put a dent in it, but I’ll get it as soon as I can.”

“Alright, that’s fine.” Andy tossed his empty container and followed Ransom when he stood up to leave. “I think there’s press outside, man. You wanna head out the back?”

“No, I’m used to them.” Ransom sighed as he steeled himself. “They’ve been up my ass ever since the election. I’m hoping they’ll calm down by the time we’re in Washington.”

Andy just nodded as he held the door open for Ransom, squinting against the sudden flashing of camera bulbs and snorting before turning to head back to his office. Ransom just clenched his jaw when they started shouting questions at him, shaking his head at being bombarded with inquiries about where you were, were you going to testify, was the baby here yet, were you going to go with him to Washington…

“My wife was the victim of an extremely heinous crime, and is still the target of multiple threats from her father’s congregation. I will not entertain any questions that invade her privacy.” Ransom frowned when one of them asked what names you had picked out. “Nor will I be discussing our child. The election was tumultuous enough, all you need to know is that she will not be testifying, she will not be taking part in any of the numerous activist campaigns that have been harassing her, and that we appreciate you respecting our requests for privacy and discretion while our family does its best to recover from an incredibly difficult year, good night.”

He ignored their continued questions and climbed into the beemer, slamming the door behind him and drawing in a deep breath as he started the engine. Ransom pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrating, almost dropping it when he saw the message and peeling out as he dialed frantically.

“Harlan!” Ransom winced when he ran right through a red light, taking a turn a bit faster than advisable and slamming into the door since he forgot to buckle up. “Please tell me she just started.”

“She did, contractions are about five minutes apart, so you have time.” Harlan trailed off when you called out for Ransom, the need in your voice making your mate press the gas pedal all the way down to the floor and pray that no cops would be between the city and Harlan’s manor. “The doctor is monitoring her very closely and pleased with how she’s doing so far, but she wants you.”

“Twenty minutes.” Ransom finally hit the open road and breathed a sigh of relief, watching the speedometer creep up while he tried to remain calm. “I’ll be there soon.”

He made it in fifteen, slamming the front door open without a second thought and sprinting up the stairs when he heard you moan. You looked so beautiful when he finally saw you, already slick with sweat and doing your breathing exercises while Marta held your hand and told you how good you were doing.

“Alpha…” you tried to smile at him but could only groan when another contraction wracked your body, your grip on Marta’s hand tightening until Ransom replaced it with his own and sitting behind you on the bed so you could lean against him for support. “She’s coming fast, my water already broke.”

“It’s alright, it’s common with first births.” The doctor gave you and Ransom a reassuring smile when he frowned at her, checking your blood pressure again and nodding when Ransom started scenting you and rumbling to help soothe you. “You are doing so well, honey, very brave.”

“Yes, so brave, bunny.” Ransom kissed your hair when you let out a shuddering breath, letting you hold his hands tightly and matching his breathing to yours while he felt you tensing up again. “Just keep breathing, Omega, you’re so good.”

You felt infinitely better with Ransom there, able to relax even through the pain and smiling each time he kissed your cheek or your temple and told you how proud he was of you. Even though later they told you it had taken six hours, it felt like it took no time at all, Ransom holding your knees up to your chest and helping you push when you felt like you couldn’t anymore once the doctor had gotten everyone else out of the room.

“Almost there, just one more big push, mommy.” The doctor gave you a small smile when you nodded tersely, guiding the baby’s body out of you while you screamed. “Here’s the head, and shoulders, and here she is!”

The first loud cry from your daughter had you breaking down into the most joyous tears of your life, shaking in Ransom’s arms and beaming at him when he kissed you like you were the air he breathed. You had never been happier, sobbing and letting Ransom stand up so he could cut the cord.

“Oh, shit.” Ransom felt his own tears leaking down his cheeks when they bundled her up and placed her into his arms, laughing when she kept squalling and wriggling like a little fiend. “Bunny, she’s so beautiful. She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.”

“Let me see her.” You were still crying when he came to sit next to you, cooing when he placed her into your arms and leaning against him as he pressed soft kisses all over your cheek. “She’s so perfect, our pup. Amelia Clementine Drysdale. I want to give her everything, Alpha.”

“We will, I promise.” Ransom didn’t think such euphoria could ever be possible, gazing at you and then back at your daughter and knowing that he would do anything either of you wanted for the rest of your lives. “I will keep you both safe, nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m here. My sweet Omega. I love you, Bunny.”

You purred and started scenting your pup while he wound you in his arms, peeking up at him through your lashes and feeling warmth bloom in your chest as you felt the deepest love and affection flowing through the bond, knowing that no matter what happened, he would always be your Alpha.

#natalie writes #you’ll never go down to the gods again #alpha ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom x you #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom smut #a/b/o #tw a/b/o #a/b/o smut #female reader #female reader insert #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans character #eighteen and over #eighteen plus

[supercap2319]

Y/N: “Steve?”

Steve: “Yes, Y/N?”

Y/N: *Smiles* “You didn’t tell me your brothers were so cute and sexy.”

Ransom: “The kid has good taste, Stevie.”

Johnny: “Yeah, I know I’m hot.”

Andy: “Thank you for the compliment, Y/N.”

Steve: *Puts his head in his hands*

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #young maximoff sibling #male maximoff #chris evans x you #chris evans x male reader #chris evans x y/n #ransom drysdale #johnny storm #andy barber #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x male reader #captain america x male reader #mcu captain america #Steve has look alike brothers

[halfrican-heat]

Lyv’s Library 📚

Hey, I'm Lyv! This is my masterlist. Browse around and see what you might like. Be sure to check out my BIO and REQUEST RULES for more info. Happy reading!

REQUESTS ARE: OPEN

Legend: ANGST/FLUFF/SMUT/SERIES

Ony's Observatory

Shorts

Backseat Driver Upstanding Gentleman

Full Fics

ALL MINE

Curated Characters

Sober!Ony Wedding Planner!Reader

Eren's Entrance

Full Fics

FAME (1)

Mackie Museum

S. Wilson

Take Care of You (Blurb)

Evans Exhibit

A. Levinson

Freakum

S. Rogers

Slow&Steady

R. Drysdale

Ain't Shit.

#Lyv Writes #My Writing #Masterlist #Smut #Fluff #Angst #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x Reader #Ari Levinson x Reader #Ransom Drysdale x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Anthony Mackie x Reader #Onyankopon x Reader #Black Reader #Black Woman #For Black Women By Black Women #Fanfic for Black Women #Reader Insert #Black!Reader Insert #Black!Reader #Aot #Eren Jaeger x Reader

[deceitfuldevout]

Deceitfuldevout's Chris Evans Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-Shots:

Poison Apple - Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Goth!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704554242553380864/poison-apple?source=share

Trust - Dark!Stucky x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649373631528960/trust?source=share

Red Daughter - Dark!Steve Rogers x ExHydra!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649377217724416/red-daughter?source=share

Sleeping Beauty - Dark!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704649380328882176/sleeping-beauty?source=share

The Passenger - Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/704662523144765440/the-passenger?source=share

Ruining America's Sweetheart - Dark!Steve Rogers x Sidekick!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/726011254129524736/americas-sweetheart?source=share

PIty Party - Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Runaway!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/715180927034294272/pity-party?source=share

Series:

Easy Money - Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/708439020662882304/deceitfuldevouts-easy-money-masterlist?source=share

Trust Fund Baby - Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707813567777439744/trust-fund-baby-masterlist?source=share

#dark fanfiction #dark!fic #reader #dark fanfic #reader insert #fem!reader #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark fic #my work #dark!steve rogers #dark!ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction

[brandycranby]

not me suddenly remembering how much i loved pjo bc of u @boxofbonesfic and thinking character thoughts 🫡 anyways

steve, son of apollo. joseph rogers? he never found out, good for sarah. she was just a tired nurse with a bastard of a husband who caught apollo's eye and ended up having a short affair with him at the hospital (he was probably a hot doctor at the time) but she never tells steve who grows up sickly and frail but no less loved by sarah who tells him lore of her homeland instead of apollo and his kin. apollo's no better as a dad when he finally gets to camp, even with the sudden gift of health he bestows on him

andy, son of ares. has anger issues and he knows it. he'd rather be a son of athena but alas that's not how the cards fall. he studies and studies in the hopes that he can change his legacy, change his fate. law instead of fighting, order instead of chaos and blood. it's futile. his father would rather he give into his savageness instead.

ransom, son of nemesis. look he's pretty and he fucks but that dont mean he's an aphrodite kid. linda probably invoked the goddess through sheer vengeful will when richard cheats for the third time. so nemesis goes and fucks the bastard, brings him his kid and linda says he can stay. damn right ransom is staying and he's stealing his dad's mistresses too. why have some shriveled weasel when his hot son is there. probably part time camper leaning towards full year. petty as he is, home isnt... great and it's not like he likes himself after he gets w those women.

---

open for discussion and thoughts 😌 i'll definitely do more for the other characters hehe if i do self insert fics for them, then they'll all be older camp leaders, like late 20s-30s. idc if its not pjo canon 🫡

#wtf is this idk #steve rogers headcanon #andy barber headcanon #ransom drysdale headcanon #demigod verse #my writing #my headcanons #ok these will probably end up as self inserts anyways so #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you

[krirebr]

More Than This Masterlist

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, explicit language, the slooowest burn - See each chapter for individual warnings. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

One

Two

Three

Four

Series in progress

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

[likeahorribledream]

new guy

» CHAPTER TEN: A LITTLE GUIDANCE

CHAPTER NINE

SUMMARY: WHAT LIES AHEAD FOR YOU AND RANSOM?

PAIRING: Ransom x Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0K

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst. New Girl AU.

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

18+. Minors DNI.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

As soon as the door slams shut Theo and Chase come out of his room, looking around to see if the coast is clear.

"How bad do you think it is?" Theo asks.

"Pretty bad." Chase sighs. "I'm gonna go check up on her." He stops in front of your door and knocks softly. "It's me, princess. Can I come in?" 

You poke your head out from under the covers long enough to tell him to come in and disappear under them again right after. 

"Are you ok?" Your best friend asks as he closes the door behind him and walks over to your bed. 

"No. I'm not." Your voice breaks as more tears rush out of you. 

"What happened?" He sits on the edge of your bed and pushes back the covers to let you breathe. 

"I don't want to talk about it." You keep your back to him, curling up on yourself. 

He reaches over to you and rubs your back. "Where's Ransom?" 

You shrug. "I don't know, I think he- he left." You reach for a pillow and hug it tightly to your chest to try to calm yourself down.

"Want me to stay with you?" He pushes back your hair, away from your face.

"Can I be alone, please?" You whisper, scared that if you speak any louder you're going to break. 

"Of course. If you need me or Theo, just send us a text." Chase leans down and kisses your temple before standing up. "We love you." He adds before leaving. 

Ransom waits for his Über to show up to take him to his destination. 

"If you want a good tip and review I'd recommend not talking unless it's to ask for directions.."

The driver nods as he looks at him through the mirror. "Got it." 

With now time to think about what he wants to say, Ransom writes a few things down on his phone to make sure not to forget anything. He has a lot of questions to ask. 

The driver, as promised, keeps his mouth shut and Ransom gives him 5 stars and a $50 tip just for leaving him alone. 

He gets out of the car and up the few steps that lead to the front door, going in right after knocking. 

It's only been a few months since he has stepped into this house but it feels like it has been years. Things change quickly, he has changed too. Probably more so in the past few months than he has over the past 10 years. 

"I thought we were finally rid of you." Fran sighs as she sees Ransom walking toward her. 

"Fuck off." He says as he walks past her to his grandfather's office. He knocks but this time he waits for permission before walking in. 

"I like the beard and longer hair. It suits you." Harlan says to him as he takes a seat. 

"Mh. Thanks." He runs his fingers through his hair. 

"Not a fan of the bloodshot eyes though." 

Ransom sighs and glances down at the desk before looking back up. "Why did you have kids?" 

Harlan sits back in his chair and looks at his grandson, really looks at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Have you always wanted kids? Is it because Nana and Great Nana wanted them for you? Why did you choose to have kids?" 

Harlan takes a moment to really think about his answer, he's not sure why Ransom is asking him this but he has a feeling that his answer could potentially change Ransom's opinion. Whatever it is. "I don't know how it happened." He says sincerely. "I don't remember ever thinking about wanting to have kids until I met your Nana. I was a lot like you when I was younger. Reckless and handsome." He teases to lighten up the mood. "You often hear people say "I met the love of my life and my world got turned upside down" but when I met the love of my life my world finally made sense. All the puzzle pieces fell into place and everything felt right. I loved her with all of my being, still do. There's not a day that I don't miss her but she's not really truly gone because I see little pieces of her in every single one of you." He smiles fondly. "I can't say when exactly I decided to have kids, all I remember is thinking that the world would be a better place with more of her in it. Now that she's gone, I'm glad I have all of you to remind me of her."  

"Would you still choose to have kids if you knew how bad we were going to turn out?" 

"Not everyone turned out bad and it's not entirely their fault if they did." 

"Meg is fine but the rest of us, not so much." 

"You turned out fine." Harlan looks at Ransom with a smile and pride in his eyes.

Ransom can't help but laugh. "In what world did I turn out fine?" 

"Look at how much you've changed since I cut you off, how much you've grown. For the first time in… years, you look happy. Genuinely happy."

Ransom shrugs and looks down. "I was." 

"It's that girl, right? Your friend that Marta helped? You fell in love."

It's not a question, it doesn't need to be.

"What happened?" 

Rubbing his hands over his face and sighing, Ransom feels close to breaking down again. "She wants to have kids." 

"And you don't?" Harlan asks curiously.

"Why would I? With how fucked up our family is, I don't need to put that kind of burden on a child or on her. She deserves better. My dad cheats on my mom constantly, they both hate me and each other." He shakes his head. "I'll be a shitty dad and a shitty husband." 

"Tell me, do you think your dad stops to think "am I being a shitty husband?" before cheating on your mother?" 

"Fuck no." Ransom laughs but there's no joy to it.

"Exactly."

Ransom frowns and raises a brow, confused. "Exactly, what?"

Harlan chuckles and sits up on his chair, leaning forward on his desk. "You are not your father. You are nothing like your father. You love her, you care about her. Let's forget about your parents, about this family. It's just you and her in the world, would you have kids with her?" 

"Of course I would. She's my whole fucking world, I'd do anything for her. I'd give her anything she asked for but this is the real world and Drysdale men don't make good fathers." 

"Then break the cycle." Harlan says, like it's the most obvious solution. 

"Oh, right. Sure. Just like that." Ransom answers, clearly being sarcastic as he rolls his eyes. 

"Why not? Are you a good boyfriend to her?" 

"I don't know. I guess."

"Do you love her? Show her affection? Treat her right? Take care of her? Respect her?" 

"I do."

"Then you've already broken the cycle of Drysdale men being shitty boyfriends or husbands. If you can do that then you can break the bad father cycle." 

"What if I can't and I end up ruining her life and the kid's life?"

"What if you can and you end up being happy with a great family?" 

"I hate it when you answer my question with a question." He shakes his head.

"I know you do." Harlan chuckles. 

"I'm scared I might have lost her." Ransom admits, so quietly that Harlan almost missed it.

"If you love her then fight for her. If you just give up then you're sure to lose her. Go home, fix it." 

Ransom runs a hand through his hair. "We have two roommates, they are protective of her, they probably won't let me talk to her alone and if they do they'll just hide and listen to everything." 

"Here." Harlan opens his desk drawer and pulls out a set of keys. "Send them there."

"Are those the keys to my old house?"

"Those are the keys to the house that I paid for. Now go, fight for your girl. Make me proud." 

Ransom stands up and takes the keys. He walks over to the door and opens it, turning around to add one more thing. "Please don't tell anyone about me and her. I don't want them anywhere near my relationship." 

Harlan nods. "You got it. Your secret is safe with me." 

"Thank you. For everything." 

His grandfather smiles at him. "I'm proud of you Ransom." 

He walks out of the house while taking his phone out of his pocket and tries to call you. He's not surprised when you don't pick up, it was to be expected. He hangs up to get an Über and he's surprised to see how late it is already. He hadn't realized that so much time had passed. It's almost dinner time but it feels later than that because of how dark it already is outside. 

On his ride home, Ransom thinks about how or what he'll need to do to get you alone without the guys. 

Once he gets dropped off near the building, he calls Theo to say he needs to see both he and Chase to clear the air before seeing you. After the call, he runs up the stairs and waits until he's sure they are gone. 

After the night they had locked you up in the loft together you had confiscated the keys from that specific lock and put them all in a drawer in the kitchen so while the guys are moving down to the first floor, Ransom quietly sneaks into the loft and locks the door. He leaves the key just in case one of you wants to get out, he doesn't want to hold you hostage he just wants to keep the guys out until he has had a chance to have a real talk with you. 

He sends them a quick text to tell them where he hid the key of his old house with the address. The guys would be pissed if they weren't so impressed by how quickly Ransom has learned to play by their rules. Plus, there are worse ways to spend your Saturday night than in a giant, beautiful house. 

Once he's sure the guys won't be interrupting anything Ransom takes off his shoes and his jacket, leaving them close to the front door. He takes a few deep breaths to settle his nerves before heading to your room. 

He usually loves moments when the loft is calm and in complete silence, like right now, but tonight he wishes there would be a noise, a sound, anything to cover his nervous heartbeat and the blood rushing through his veins at an incredible speed.

Ransom turns the knob and walks in without a sound before closing the door again. He moves closer to your bed, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of you looking so small and fragile, almost broken. He hates that he did this to you.

Lifting up the covers, Ransom carefully gets into your bed and lies behind you. A sigh of relief almost escapes his lips when you don't flinch or tense up at his presence, counting it as a small win. 

You have no idea what time it is, all you know is that you've spent the entire day in bed crying, sleeping or staring at the wall in front of you. You're tired and your body aches from lying in the same position for hours on end, yet you can't find the energy to move. Not even to turn around. Chase and Theo check up on you often to make sure you don't need anything, maybe that's why you're able to tell right away when it's Ransom who comes in and not one of your other roommates. 

You let him get in and settle down right behind you without saying anything. What is there to say that hasn't already been said earlier? 

What you don't expect is for him to reach over and wrap his arm around you, like he always does, and you feel terrible for jumping the way you do. Ransom tries to move his arm away when he sees and feels you get scared but you stop him, putting your hand on top of his. 

Ransom's eyes are burning with unshed tears as he wraps his front around your back, getting as close to you as physically possible. 

"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did." He says quietly, not surprised to hear the pain in his own voice. "Can you turn around, please?" 

You hesitate but slowly turn around to be facing him. As soon as he sees your face he moves his hand away from your waist and uses it to wipe off the fresh tears on your cheeks, not realizing that his own are now running free.

"I'm so sorry, kitten. I'm so fucking sorry." He whispers, knowing that his voice can't get any louder without breaking or wavering. 

You're fast to cover his cheeks with your hands, using your thumbs to make his tears disappear as soon as they come out. "You don't have to apologize. Sometimes things just don't work out." You give him the tiniest of smiles to show him you're not mad. You could never be mad at him for knowing what he wants or doesn't want. 

Ransom's eyes widen as he realizes why you think he's apologizing. "No, no, no, no." He says quickly and puts his index finger under your chin to make you look in his eyes. "I went to see Harlan today and we talked, for hours. You were right. I'm not my dad and I'll never be my dad. I love you, I'm fucking crazy about you and I never want to hurt you. I promise I'll never cheat on you or do anything else to hurt you, to hurt us." 

"Oh, Ran. I know you won't. The thought never even crossed my mind and I love you, I really do that's why it hurts so much but we want different things. As much as I love and adore you, I haven't changed my mind about wanting to have kids. I'm sorry." 

"I know, kitten. That's what I'm trying to say." He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and rests his forehead against yours. "I changed my mind."

Your eyes widen and you quickly sit up. "Are you for real?"

"Yes." He sits up too, facing you. 

"A few hours ago you didn't even want to think about having kids, Ran this isn't like changing your mind about getting a cat." 

"Like I said, I talked to Harlan and he opened my eyes on a few things." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger across your cheek. "If it were someone else, I wouldn't have changed my mind but it's you. I know you won't be scared to call me out if I do something bad and I know I'll love our kids because they will be yours. I really thought about it, I'm sure."

You stare at him speechless. "Maybe you should take some more time to think about it." You suggest, a little taken aback.

"I don't need to." 

You're shocked that he has changed his mind so rapidly but also shocked that you believe him even if you think an afternoon isn’t enough to make such a big decision. He seems so sure of himself, there's not even an ounce of doubt in his voice, in his words or in his eyes. 

Before you try to argue again, Ransom closes the distance between the two of you and kisses you. It starts off chaste and soft but it quickly turns sloppy and full of need, full of desire. One of his hands travels down your body to the small of your back where his hand then moves under your shirt. He sighs at the contact of your warm, soft skin and moves closer to you. 

You put your hands to the back of his head where you tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close, as if he'd ever dare to leave you like this. 

Ransom kisses the corner of your lips and trails down from your cheek to the side of your neck to give you a chance to breathe. He sucks and nips at the skin, smiling against your neck when he feels you shiver. 

You bite your lower lip and close your eyes to let yourself get lost in his touch. 

He lifts up his head and he grins at the sight in front of him. "You look so beautiful." He presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath once more. He helps you lie down on your back, holding himself up with one hand flat on the mattress while the other is still on your back. He lowers himself with you and settles his body on top of yours, between your legs so as to not crush you under his weight. His hand that's on your back moves from under you and comes to take yours instead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he raises them above your head to rest on the pillow. 

Once again Ransom breaks off the kiss to let you breathe and instead presses soft kisses all over your cheeks, forehead and nose. He stops to look down into your eyes when he feels you cupping his cheek in the palm of your free hand to get his attention. 

"I love you." You say softly after feeling the urge to say it first this time. 

Ransom's breath hitches in his throat and he gently squeezes your hand that he's holding. He gets lost in his own mind for a few moments, trying to think back to the last time that someone told him they loved him and meant it. For years girls have told him they loved him, not because that was how they felt but because they thought it could get them expensive gifts or money. It didn't. Those three little words have always turned Ransom off, until tonight. He used to hate hearing them but now they might be his favorite words. "Fuck." He curses quietly under his breath, his heart is pounding in his chest in the most wonderful way. "I love you." He adds quickly right before kissing the tip of your nose. "Wanna get started on those babies?" He asks you, cheekily as he wiggles his eyebrows and grins down at you. 

You can't help but laugh at his playful attitude. You tilt your head a little to the side, matching his playfulness. "Are you sure you want the babies and not just the baby making?" 

"I'm a big, big fan of the baby making." He smirks. "But I'm gonna be an even bigger fan of the babies that come from it." 

You shake your head as you smile, amused. "How about for right now we practice and we can talk about babies tomorrow morning?" 

"Anything you want, my love." He smiles as he leans down to kiss you. The moment your lips touch, his playfulness is gone and all of his focus is on making you feel good, beautiful and loved beyond words. Over and over again until you're both too exhausted to move.

Ransom rolls off of you and lies on his back next to you, letting you both catch your breath. You wiggle closer until you’re flushed against his side and rest the back of your head on his bicep. He moves his head to look at you and smiles at how relaxed and at peace you look. He wraps his index finger and thumb on both sides of your jaw to angle your head in the right direction to give him easy access to your lips as he leans in to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling away.

‘’We totally just made a baby, I can feel it.’’ He rests his head back on the pillow and looks up at the ceiling. 

You laugh and take the hand that was on your face, holding it between yours as you close your eyes. ‘’I think it’s going to take a little while before we do. At least I hope so.’’

Ransom frowns and turns his head to look at you. ‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’

You blindly trace his pinky ring with the tip of your finger, slowly opening your eyes to look back at him. ‘’I love how excited you are about this but we don’t need to have a kid now. We need money, lots of it and our own place because I’m not taking care of a newborn baby on top of taking care of Theo and Chase.’’

‘’Right.’’ He sighs. ‘’I keep forgetting that money is an issue for me now.’’

You raise a hand to his beard and gently scratch with your fingers along his jawline. ‘’We just need to come up with a plan, to make sure we’re ready when it does happen. If we did make a baby tonight, we’ll make it work but I’d like to be prepared.’’

‘’It’s a good thing that one of us is smart.’’ 

‘’Don’t say that, you’re smart too.’’ 

‘’Oh, I know. I was talking about myself.’’ He laughs at your shocked gasp and kisses your temple. ‘’I’m just teasing.’’

You sit up to put your shirt and leggings back on. ‘’I hope you enjoyed getting laid earlier because that was the last time in a very long while.’’ You stick out your tongue at him before hurrying out of your bed and heading to the bathroom to take a shower. 

‘’No, come back.’’ He tries to stop you from getting out of bed but you’re too quick. ‘’Kitten.’’ He whines and smiles when he hears you laugh. He gets out of bed and follows you to the bathroom, not bothering with putting on any clothes since it’s just the two of you and he has locked out your other two roommates. ‘’What are we doing?’’ He asks, innocently.

‘’I’m taking a shower.’’ You turn on the water to let it warm up before getting in.

‘’What a great idea for us to take a shower.’’ 

You bite down on your lip, trying not to laugh and encourage him. You shake your head instead. 

He leans down to kiss the side of your neck, covering every inch of skin with his lips as he puts his hands under the front of your shirt to cover your stomach. ‘’Need some help with your clothes, kitten?’’ He nips at the skin right under your ear, making you shiver.

You slightly lean back into him, making him think he has won but you quickly snap out of it and pull away. ‘’I got it, thanks. I’ll be done soon if you want to take a shower after.’’ You take off your clothes and walk inside the shower, closing the door behind you as you step under the water. 

A few seconds later you feel a big gush of cold air coming in, making you aware that Ransom has opened the door. He steps in and stands behind you as he closes the door right after. 

‘’Ran, what are you doing?’’ You don’t turn around, your poker face sucks and you want to pretend to be mad for as long as you can. 

‘’Just making sure my beautiful baby mama is safe.’’ He wraps his arms around your shoulders and kisses the back of your head. 

You laugh quietly and lean back into him. ‘’I’m not a baby mama yet.’’

‘’Yet. But I’m working on it..’’ He moves his hands to rest on top of your stomach and you almost melt at how adorable he is being since coming back from Harlan’s. 

A small part of you wants to tease him and tell him that he’s being super cheesy but the sincerity in his voice stops you. Instead you put your hands on top of his and relax under the hot water. 

‘’Ran?’’ You say his name quietly after a few minutes of just holding one another. 

‘’Yes, my love?’’ 

‘’I’m starving.’’ 

He chuckles. ‘’Yeah, me too. Let’s wash up and then we can go out.’’

‘’Out? Ransom Drysdale are you taking me out on a date?’’ You turn your head to look up at him.

He smiles and kisses your forehead. ‘’I don’t know if you can call it a date because I definitely can’t afford fancy restaurants but we’re going out to eat.’’ 

‘’Well, lucky for you I’m more of a small restaurant kinda girl. Small prices, big portions and I have my own money.’’ 

‘’I’m paying and I sure am lucky.’’ He smiles before letting go of you to grab the soap. 

By the time you get out there is no more hot water but neither of you care. You head back to your rooms to get dressed and meet back at the front door.

You’ve decided to walk to the small italian restaurant a few blocks away, you’ve gone often but Ransom hasn’t had a chance to eat there yet and you have a feeling he’s going to love it. You, Theo and Chase have been going there for years and the owners know you well, they often give you discounts that you pay back in their tip. 

You sit at your usual table and Ransom surprises you by sitting next to you instead of sitting across from you. You are so used to your boyfriends being either ashamed of being seen with you or trying to hide that they have a girlfriend in case they run into their other girlfriends that you’re always pleasantly surprised to see Ransom doing the exact opposite. He puts his arm on the back of your chair once he's settled and runs his fingers up the back of your neck as he takes one of the menus to decide on what to eat. 

You on the other hand don't even look at the menu because you know exactly what you're going to eat, the same thing as usual. 

"Everything looks so good." He says as he flips through the few pages with his free hand. 

"It tastes even better, I promise." 

"I bet. It smells amazing in here." He quickly glances around to see what is on other people's plates to potentially help him make a decision. There are so many choices and it's hard to choose just one.

A waiter comes over to pour you water and take your orders, leaving swiftly after. 

Ransom gets closer and kisses your cheek as he reaches for his glass of water at the same time with his free hand, taking a few quick sips before putting it down. He watches as you lean into his side, smiling as he watches you yawn and rest your head on his shoulder. Bringing his hand up to your head, he gently strokes your hair while kissing the top of your head. "Tired, my love?" 

You nod. "Yes. Today was exhausting." 

His heart clenches at the painful thought of everything he put you through today. "I'm so sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize, Ran." 

"Yes, I do. I hurt you and I made you cry. I'm sorry." 

You tilt your head to be able to look at him without having to move away from his shoulder. "You didn't hurt me or make me cry. I was scared that we were done and I didn't want us to be."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." He teases, smiling lovingly down at you. 

"Good, I don't want you to go anywhere." You smile back at him, a look of pure adoration in your eyes.

Anyone that would look at the two of you right now could see, without even knowing you, that you're in love with each other. The looks, the smiles and the touches are filled with respect and need for each other that makes it beautiful to watch the interaction between you two. 

You barely let go of each other long enough to eat and as soon as you're done you find yourself back into Ransom's side. 

The same waiter from earlier comes back over to clear your plates and ask if you need anything else.

"I'm full, thank you." You smile before finishing your water and putting your empty glass back on the table.

"Just the check." 

You try to pay for your half of the bill but Ransom insists on paying, you know better than to try and fight him. Instead you might "find" $20 in his jeans pockets while doing the laundry, that you'll make sure to give back. 

You walk back to the loft with your arm around his waist and his arm around your shoulders. Walking is a great way to help the food go down but the air is getting cold and gets through your clothes. 

Once in the elevator Ransom pushes on the button for your floor and wraps his arms around you, hiding you under his coat to help warm you up. Back in the apartment, he locks the door again to keep the other two out for the night and meets you in the bathroom to brush his teeth as you do the same. You both head back to his room, closing the door behind you, then taking off your clothes to get into his bed. He stays in only his briefs while you steal one of his t-shirts to cover yourself with for the night.

"I love you, thank you for tonight." You press a kiss to his chest before laying your head on top of his heart, just in time to hear it flutter at the first three words of your sentence. 

"I love you." He rubs your back, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. 

Thankfully the day ends in the exact same way it started: You in the arms of the man that you love feeling good and protected, right where you belong.

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[wiypt-writes]

Brothers In Arms

Part 9: Spinning Around

Summary: After hearing about the events in Boston, you come to a decision about your future…

Warnings: Bad language, violence, smut (NSFW) 18+

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Mentions of MOB Steve Rogers x Reader. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Here we are, the penultimate chapter. Eeeek. thanks to @spectre-posts as always.

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 8

W/C: 6k

It wasn't long before you'd made it back to your brother. Natasha drove and you were thankful, as the entire way to the hospital your mind was distracted. Your thoughts remained on Ransom and the situation you were in. 

You’d decided to call him yourself and tell him Ari was awake, instead of asking Natasha do it. It felt more real that way. And also, if you were honest, a part of you wanted to hear his voice. 

You hadn’t been prepared, however, for the fact that the first thing he’d basically asked when you’d called was if there was something wrong with you or the baby. It was something you’d seen and heard other expectant fathers ask their pregnant partners when they called, and it had made you feel all sorts of emotions. 

You still didn’t know what you were going to do about the baby. Your heart and mind were so conflicted, not only over that but Ransom. It all made your head hurt when you thought about it. 

Setting foot into your brother's room, you noticed that there was a crowd. Ari in bed; looking more colorful than when you'd left him, Sam, Kebede and Max all stood round. Their words were in a hushed tone as they conversed. Silence began the moment you appeared in the doorway.

“What…what’s going on?” You asked, dropping the bag of Ari’s belongings onto one of the free chairs as Natasha hung back a little. She then excused herself as her phone rang, ducking out to answer.

"There's been a development," Ari spoke with zero emotion, as if he were back on the job.

You felt flushed from the inside out, heat coursing through you in a panic you hadn't yet identified. You felt your stomach knot as you asked, "what do you mean?"

"Walt's dead, Steve's dead and Ransom has been stabbed," Ari looked at you and no one else as he answered. He wanted you to know there was not one iota of mistruth in what he told you.

You blinked, “what…Walt? I…” and then your brain registered what else he had said, and your stomach stopped. “Ran…he’s…is he okay?”

Sammy stepped forward to catch you as you started to wobble, "sit down, love."

"I don't know," Ari admitted.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You looked at Ari, “what…what happened?”

"I called and when he answered he was in bad shape," your brother, again, replied stoically. "He asked for help, then the line went dead.

“But you got him help, right?”

"If they got to him in time," he nodded. "I haven't heard either way."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you were about to give your brother a full verbal lashing for his blasé attitude but you stopped yourself. Ari was angry about what Ransom did to you and what had happened to him. And deep down you knew he had every right to be. 

But that didn’t stop you worrying about Ransom. Because despite everything, you still loved him.

“Harlan found him.” 

You turned to look at Natasha, who waved her phone in explanation as she stepped into the room. “He’s lost a lot of blood but he’s alive.”

Your chest shuddered as the breath you held let go. Your left hand covered your mouth while your right clutched your chest, just over your heart. "I need to go, now. The fastest you can get me there," you looked only at Natasha. If you'd looked at your brother, you knew already the look on his face would be of sad eyes and disappointment. He'd try to delay your exit possibly only to talk you out of leaving in his mind.

Natasha nodded, “Harlan suspected you might say that. His private jet is on the way.”

You stood slowly and began to walk forward, one foot out the threshold when Ari stopped you.

"Y/N," he spoke. When you turned to face him, he spoke again, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

You took a deep breath and shook your head, a tear trickling down your cheek. “I don’t know what I want, but I need to see him, Ari. I still love him. I’m not asking you for permission, or for you to understand because fuck knows I don’t understand it myself. But I need to go.”

"Alright," he nodded. Ari looked to Max, "get her there safe. Then get back here so we can figure out how to clean this shit up. If he survives, that bastard owes me the rest of his life."

"Sure thing, boss," Max spoke with his gravely East Coast accent. He turned toward you and Natasha, with a single nod, and Nat began to follow. You took a final glance at your brother.

"Thank you," you whispered. Ari nodded and you were beyond the threshold.

*****

Less than three hours later you were touching down in Boston. A car was waiting for you and Natasha, and she gently ushered you over the tarmac of the private air field towards it, Max casting a watchful eye from the top of the steps.

A familiar face was waiting for you in the driver’s seat.

“Carter…” it was almost a relief to see his face.

"Doll," he nodded at you. 

"How's..." you began but Carter interrupted you as Natasha slid in beside you. 

“He’s in a bad way, but being cared for by the best.” Carter swallowed. “I’m under instructions to take you straight to the house.”

“The house, is he not…”

“He’s being cared for by Doctors at Harlan’s mansion. We couldn’t call the authorities…too many questions.”

You had a few questions of your own, especially now you’d had an entire flight to sit and think about them.

“What happened? I know Steve stabbed him, but what…”

“Mr Thrombey has asked that I let him explain. He’s waiting for you, I’m under instructions to send you to see him before you see Ransom.”

"No, I want to see Ransom first, Carter," your voice held a pleading tone.

"Harlan first." Carter said firmly. He wasn't about to negotiate.

“Why does everyone in this damned family get off on pushing me around?” You grumbled.

Natasha caught your under-breath comment and smirked, "it keeps their dicks bigger. Mobsters lose control, they lose their rights."

You glanced at her, and she gave you a small smile as you scoffed. 

The drive to Harlan’s was a familiar one, you’d been plenty of times before. Soon, Carter was pulling the car up to the front of the house. You didn’t even wait for it to stop before you opened the door to let yourself out.

"She's eager," Carter joked with Natasha as you left the door open. 

Fran, Harlan's housemaid, thew open the door just as you reached for the handle. "He's in his study," she directed you.

You nodded, walking down the hall, ignoring both Ransom’s mother and father as your sneakers squeaked on the well-polished tiles. The mahogany doors were heavy as you pushed both open with your palms flat on their surface. You didn't even bother knocking, and frankly, you didn't give a shit. You wanted the answers you were seeking and you wanted to see Ransom.

Harlan wasn’t surprised to see you, he was stood by the window, clearly having seen you arrive.

“Y/N.” He gave you a soft smile.

“Where’s Ransom?” Your voice was quiet.

"He's upstairs," the oldest Thrombey said with softness. "You can see him in a moment, if you choose to after we talk. Have a seat."

"I'd rather stand," you stood your ground.

"Alright," he nodded.

You took a deep breath, waiting for Harlan to explain.

“The feud between Ransom and Steve, the one which you were regrettably caught in the middle of. It was started by Walt.”

You felt your jaw go slack as your brows furrowed and eyes squinted. "What?"

“Walter ordered the hit that went wrong. He’s the reason Peggy is dead and the reason Steve…well…” he trailed off.

“You know?” You whispered. 

Harlan nodded. “Ari came to me, not long after it happened.”

“I know, I just wasn’t sure if he told you everything.”

Harlan took a deep breath as you licked your lips.

"Why am I just hearing this?" You shook your head, "So much could have been...I could..."

"Unfortunately, this is how these things play out. It's pathetic really. Cliché dramas that sometimes translate from screen to life." Harlan’s tone was gentle. A little like you found the man himself to be, despite the fact he was a ruthless mob boss. “That and I didn’t know.” Harlan shook his head. “‘None of us did, not until photos of Walt meeting with Rumlow emerged.”

“Photos?”

Harlan nodded. “Copies were sent to both your brother and Ransom.”

"Who took them?"

“No idea.” Harlan shrugged. “And I don’t think it matters much. Not now. Steve got his revenge, and then Ransom got his.”

Harlan studied you for a moment as you took the entire situation in. He watched as your face screwed up a little and you pinched the bridge of your nose, a desperate attempt to keep yourself from crying. Almost as if you didn’t want to give into the jumble of emotions you were feeling. Like you didn’t want to show weakness, or admit to anyone other than yourself that you cared what had happened to either of them. 

But he knew you did, because you were here. 

To Harlan, it was no wonder Ransom had fallen for you the way he had. You took crap from no one, but yet underneath it all, you were an incredibly kind hearted and loving person. You rounded off Ransom’s gruff and rough edges perfectly. And, as he stood there now, watching you in his study, it struck the older man exactly how much you reminded him of someone he knew extremely well, and missed every single day. 

You looked to him after a moment or two and wondered about the expression on his face. It was like he was somewhere else, but not quite, caught in a memory almost. And as you watched, a soft smile spread across his face. 

“Forgive me, but you’re a lot like Ransom’s mother, you know. Fierce, strong, independent. Well, she was until Rogers sucked it out of her. God I hated him. Cruel twist of fate really that the boys looked so much like him. Steve is…was his double, and well, apart from Ransom’s hair colour, he is too.”

At that you frowned, “their hair colour?”

“Steve is…was blonde, Ransom isn’t.” 

You frowned. “Steve…had different hair colour?”

Harlan nodded.

Your frown deepened. You’d done everything you could to push that night from your mind. But…how could you have not noticed? You swallowed as you tried and tried to remember. The bathroom had been dimly lit, it wasn’t like you’d really had chance to look at his hair either…but then you shook your head.

“That’s not possible.” You looked at Harlan, “they’re identical twins!”

Harlan gave you a curious glance, “they’re not identical, Honey. They’re fraternal. Or they were. I mean, they did look ridiculously alike, but there are subtle differences, the hair colour being one, and then there’s a slight height difference, not much but…”

You swallowed, again zoning out of the conversation as the impact of Harlan’s revelation hit you.

You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know for sure who was your baby’s father. A paternity test for identical twins would mean shit, as they had identical DNA. But fraternal ones however, did not. And now, you were fast realising that there was a way for you to find out if the baby you were carrying belonged to Ransom. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harlan’s voice cut through the fog and you looked at him, nodding.

Your face felt void of emotion but your mind and heart were overflowing in competitive thoughts, "is he going to live?"

“Yes,” Harlan nodded. “He's battered and bruised, lost a lot of blood but they've patched him up. Unlike your brother, his spleen remains in act and nothing else was damaged apart from some muscle in his rib cage.”

The shaky breath you inhaled opened up your emotions for your eyes to flood, "I want to see him."

Harlan nodded. “He’s sleeping at the moment, still undergoing the blood transfusion, but he’ll be glad to see you. I haven’t mentioned you were coming in case you changed your mind.”

"Where?"

"Upstairs, the guest room to the left after the landing," he softly spoke. “The one the pair of you usually, well, did usually stay in.”

"Thank you," you whispered. You'd only just stood when Harlan spoke your name. You waited for him to continue. 

"Ransom has not made the best choices," he sighed, "but despite the unbearable act he's done to you, I know he loves you. I'm not trying to sway a decision for you, my dear. I only speak my truths with those I care for and you, no matter what, will always be a part of this family."

You swallowed, nodding as you licked your lips. “I…I still love him too, Harlan, but what I don’t know is whether if that’s gonna be enough, not after all this.”

Harlan seemed to have had an understanding for he only nodded once, dismissing you to go. So, with a deep breath, you headed up the grandiose staircase and turned to the left. You stopped at the cracked open door and closed your eyes. Your hands were shaking and your throat felt dry. Your eyes stung with salty tears but you took a steeling breath anyway and slowly cracked the door open enough for you to step in.

Looking small, feeble even, with his complexion pale, Ransom looked anaemic already. There was a canula under his nose along with a half full bag of blood which was being administered via IV into the back of his left hand. His body was covered by blankets and you stopped halfway between the door and the foot of the large bed, listening to the beeps and bleeps of the heart monitor.

His hair was out of place only a little, cuts and bruises, even dried blood was still visible and the sight worried and scared you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed the space between he and you. There was already a chair on his left side, presumably from Linda, whom no doubt had sat there to at least show face and play the part of worried mother so those on staff and the goons in and out of the house would buy into it. You didn't, not really. 

You took a seat at his right side and glanced down at your shaking hands. They felt cold even by your own touch. Worrying them in your lap, you slowly looked up, your eyes roaming over your former lover and fiancé.

As you sat there you tried to figure out why had Ransom not corrected you when you’d said there could be no way to know which one of the brothers had fathered your unborn child.

Why would he lie? The only plausible reason you could think of was that he didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want you to know either. Was this some cruel attempt to keep control of you?

“If you keep it…I’ll support you. I’ll do whatever, be as involved as a father or as not involved as you want, but you’ll want for nothing. Either of you. Whatever you decide…”

Whatever you decide…

“Oh, Ran…” you sniffed, your hand reached for his right. You gently held it, your thumb skating softly over his bruises and split knuckles as you looked at his face. “This is such a fucking mess.”

*****

The beeping of his alarm was most certainly not welcome. Ransom was too warm, too comfortable.

There was a sleep laden grumble that wanted to force its way out of his throat but instead he grunted and slung his arm out to shut the damn thing off on his phone.

But his phone wasn’t there.

Odd.

Nevertheless, the noise stopped and he turned himself over onto his other side, and felt the tickle of hair on his face.

He cracked an eye open, in surprise more than anything. You were here. Back in his bed. After everything…

His brow twitched downward and his chest tightened a bit. He sat up onto his elbow and took you in fully.

You were led on your side, back to him, the bed covers pulled up to your chin. Your features soft as you slept.

His hand reached out to run a knuckle over your cheek but he stopped. What if he touched you and you melted away? What if he touched you and you just vanished. But he had to know. So, he curled his first and fingers, delicately dragging them over your cheekbone towards your ear and down your jaw. You were real, you were there. He knew so now, his fingers over your soft skin. So kept going, slowly down your neck, pulling back that bedding just a bit.

His hand paused at the crook of your shoulder, before it carried on, slipping underneath the comforter. He traced a line down your ribs, your naked body felt just as he remembered. 

His heart filled with so many emotions. And those very emotions tickled his nose and made his eyes pool. His hand now opened wide and splayed over your little swollen belly.

The second his palm came to rest over the life which was growing inside of you, a long breath left his nose. It relaxed his chest and dropped his shoulders.

You stirred a little, your nose twitching in that adorable way it did when you were someplace between sleep and consciousness. 

His thumb swept up and down over your skin. His eyes flicked between your face and what he was doing. His mind whirring.

How did he get to this? How was this possible? Did he die and now this is his purgatory?

A soft sigh left you as Ransom shuffled and snuggled into you as closely as he could get. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, inhaling deeply.

"Hi...." you whispered as your arm covered his as it wrapped over you.

“Hi, Princess…”

"You been up long?"

“No,” his lips brushed your skin again. “Just woke…”

You hummed a little smile.

“I love you.” He whispered, his lips moving to your neck.

"We love you too."

His lips curved into a smile against your skin before he sniffed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

You were caught off guard by the comment, "why wouldn't I be?" You turned your body towards him a little more so as not to crane your neck so hard.

“Because I’m a no good, son of a bitch who treat you like shit.”

"What? Did you have a bad dream or something?" You grew concerned. "Ransom, are you okay?"

That was when he noticed it, the sparkle and twinkle on your left hand.

“I…I…I don’t know.” He whispered.

You turned completely over, "hey," you cupped his cheek with your left hand, "whatever it is, it's okay. I'm here, baby. You can tell me."

He sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter…I have a feeling I’m dreaming now and…I just wanna stay here with you for as long as possible.”

You smiled warmly with a slight shake of your head. "Oh Ran...."

“I love you…and I’m so sorry…” he sniffed, as he pressed his lips to yours. 

He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. It had been so long since ha had last kissed you.

You pulled back just a breath's distance, "I don't know," you kissed him, "what you're sorry for," your lips ghosted his. "But I love you too." You kissed him one more time, "soon we won't get mornings like this."

“Let’s make the most of it…” he whispered, his lips back on yours as his hand cupped your cheek.

He felt you shiver a bit as you hummed at his touch.

His lips never left yours as he eased himself over you, a little more, his hand sliding down your body and coming to rest at your hip.

He gave his baby in your belly enough space as he held himself up with his free arm. That hand at your hip gently rubbed along your skin as he moved down your thigh. His strong hand curled under knee and lifted your leg over his hip, opening you up for him.

You sighed, your nails running lightly up his back, coming to rest in the shorter strands of his hair at the back. Your eyes met his, and he saw nothing but love. A stark contrast to the fear and hurt he had seen in them the last time you’d been under him.

"I love you so much," he whispered with tears in his eyes. "Forgive me, baby, please forgive me." He whimpered as he bent to kiss you again, "I'm so sorry." His final apology was spoke against your lips. And whilst he kissed you, he slipped into you. 

He choked a little as your body responded to him. Your leg hooked round him, heel digging into his ass. Your head sank further into the pillows, leaving your neck bare for him to lavish affection on with his mouth and tongue.

You were made for him. 

How could he have ever hurt you the way he had? Why had he ever doubted you? He was disgusted. Ashamed.

Walt hadn’t made him do that to you. Neither had Steve. He did it himself. Blinded by the hurt and anger, he’d brutally fucked you, despite you asking him not to.

Ransom knew this wasn’t real. Each thrust and roll of his hips was ecstasy but he knew, it was all in his head.

Or he was dead, and this was his new forever.

Either way, he didn’t want it to end.

There was a sharp pain in his side, one which made him hiss and close his eyes in discomfort. And when he opened them, your features were blurring, as if he was seeing them through a dirty window.

“No, please…don’t…don’t go…” he begged.

You opened your mouth, his name a whisper, your voice soft and faraway.

And then there was that damned alarm again. A persistent, annoying fucking beeping.

*****

Your eyes looked to the monitor as Ransom's heart rate had sped up. It worried you, your hand squeezing his.

“Ransom…” you spoke, your voice croaky. “Ran…”

"You came," he said hoarsely. Then he flinched as that searing pain came again.

“Yeah…” you squeezed his hand again, your heart thudding at the fact he was awake. “I did.”

“I didn’t…didn’t know if you would.” His speech was slow, quiet and you took a deep breath.

“Just take a moment, let me go find the doctor. I’m assuming he or she is around somewhere.”

His hand squeezed around yours, a silent plea for you to stay.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

You quickly headed out into the landing and called out for anyone. Fran immediately appeared from one of the other bedrooms and you looked at her.

“He’s awake…and he’s in a lot of pain.”

She nodded, “the doctor is in with Harlan, Linda and Richard, I’ll go get him.”

You nodded and return to Ransom's side. You knew a conversation needed to be had, but you weren't about to have it when doctors, and most likely his parents, were about to barge in.

"It'll be just a minute," you told him.

He nodded and lay back, his eyes closing. 

“Can’t believe the cunt stabbed me.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, well, you killed him so…I’d say you came out on top.” You swallowed as you looked at your hand where it still held his.

The doctor and, as you predicted, Linda and Richard came in quickly. His mother gave you a jerk of her head, but Richard barely registered your existence not that you cared. You’d never given much of a shit about either of them to be honest. 

You went to move from the chair to give them space. But Ransom's hold on your hand remained. You weren't going anywhere. You looked at him, squeezing right back, "It's okay."

You glanced up at the doctor, he wasn’t someone you recognised but it didn’t surprise you. The Thrombey firm had many a professional on its payroll, all of whom were willing to look the other way for backhanders.

You zoned out as he began to talk, instead your eyes simply focussed on your hand which was wrapped around Ransom’s battered one.

You inspected his knuckles, the bruises and the cuts that were raw and still covered with dried blood. In fact, you'd noticed that most of his still had some remnants of the blood bath he no doubt endured with his brother. You barely registered the doctor working on him and stepping away.

It was all a blur. 

But what broke through was the stern tone he had with Linda when he told them to go. Your glance shot up from his hand to his face. That busted lip moved as he spoke again.

"I want to talk to Y/N, alone. I don't need the two of you squabbling and worrying with your bullshit feelings right now."

Linda took a deep breath. “Son, we’re just…it’s a big shock. You, here like this. Steve…Steve dead…”

"Go, Linda." He demanded.

“Ransom…” Harlan spoke from the door, his voice soft but stern. 

Ransom groaned, “I’m sorry mom, but please. Go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

"Alright," she relented. Richard waled her out, his hands on her forearms. Harlan gave the two of you a nod and walked away.

Just before the doctor made his last check on Ransom, he spoke, "These won't take long to kick in. So, just so you're aware, you may nod off."

Ransom nodded.

Once the doctor was gone, you took a deep breath and turned back to him. You didn't know how to start, and maybe he didn't either. But the conversation needed to be had. So you started with the obvious. "Why?"

"It had to be done," he simply stated as if there were no other choice. "Walt and Steve both deserved it. This could have all been avoided." He settled himself with a wince. "Walt's wrecklessness caused a war. No matter what happens between you and I, I couldn't let Steve get away with what he'd done to you. I told Ari I’d kill him. And I did.”

“But I don’t understand, why did Walt arrange the hit in the first place?”

“Apparently he wanted the head seat and if he could frame me for Steve’s death it would lead the way. But…I don’t know, the more I think about it, the more I can’t understand it myself. But then Walt never was the sharpest tool in the box.”

"So this was over a seriously bent ego and power struggle?" You were deeply frowning as you registered Ransom’s explanation.

“That’s what Walt explained before Steve put a bullet in his head.”

You sighed. It hurt to think about all the logistics and how much damage was caused. How confusing even the smallest details were because of one man's jealousy. It trickled so far down the line that it had even affected you. Ari had become a target, he'd nearly died. And that assessment didn't even include what had happened to you. How Ransom had treated you, what he'd done to you. It was a lot to take in. But you had to press on, "And Steve? How..."

Ransom sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. “He…he figured it out. That you’re pregnant.” Ransom blinked heavily as he looked back to you. “When he stabbed me, he said he’d find you, and take you and the baby…and if it was the last thing I did, I wasn’t gonna let that happen. So I shot him. Same way be shot Walt, right between the eyes.”

You swallowed as Ransom took a deep breath, wincing a little as he did. 

“And I don’t regret it. What I do regret is the fact I hurt you, that I…I forced myself on you the way I did. I should have listened and believed you…and I’ll never forgive myself.”

You bowed your head and sighed. Your words stuck to your tongue like glue on a paper. You weakly nodded and lifted your eyes to meet his.

“I know, we never really talked about kids, I just thought it would be something we figured out together along the way. But…I meant what I said.” Ransom licked his lips, “I’ll support you in anyway that you want or need. I’m not expecting you to forgive me for what I did. I don’t expect you to take me back. But, if you wanna keep the baby, I’ll be there for you both. 

“Even if it isn’t yours?” You asked softly. 

As his eyes looked at yours, he blinked slowly. “You know, don’t you?  About me and Steve, how we’re not…”

You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?.”

Ransom licked his lips. “I was scared…” He took a deep breath, a grimace on his face. “I should have, but…I was scared that if you knew, you’d want to find out…and then I’d…I don’t know, if I could could…” he shook his head, “So, instead, whilst I still had hope that one day you could forgive me, then…I guess I didn’t want to know. Because whilst I didn’t for sure, then there would be a chance it is mine and for that reason alone I’d be able to love it like it is. But I see…you have a right to. That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

In that split second, as you looked at his battered and bruised face, his eyes filled with remorseful tears, you suddenly realised there and what you wanted.

You didn’t truly understand why, after everything that happened but you did. You loved him, and the simple fact was you’d never love another in the same way. So, if Ransom was willing to go through life bringing up and loving you and your child, a child that may or may not be his, then who were you to stop him? Why would you deny your child a father? And why would you deny yourself the love of a man who you still loved with all your heart.

You didn’t need to know and, moreover, you didn’t want to know. It might be an ultimately selfish decision, but seeing as there hadn’t been a single thing in the shit show that had been your life for the last two months or so that you had been able to control, you were taking this one for yourself.

“I wanna keep it,” you spoke softly. “You’re right, the likelihood is that it is yours. And that’s…that’s good enough for me, if it is for you…”

“Y/N…” Ransom let out a little choked sob, and you sniffed, shushing him gently.

“I want you to be a part of its life.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, “and I want you to be a part of my life, too.”

#brothers in arms #mob ransom drysdale x reader #mob Ransom Drysdale x you #mob ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom Drysdale x you #Ransom Drysdale x reader #mob au #reader insert #chris evans characters

[rubynationwins]

So You Want To Tango? Part 2 (18+)

Stepbrother! Ransom Drysdale x Virgin!PlusSize! Reader (Soft!Dark!Ransom)

Series summary: All you were trying to do was lose your v-card, was that too much to ask? Apparently so, according to your stepbrother.

Main Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Chapter Warnings: Soft!Dark!Ransom, reader is a junior in college, plus-size!reader, virgin!reader smut, non/dud-con, fingering (f receiving), swearing, ransom being an ass, choking, manhandling, degradation, slut shaming, manipulation, angst, mentions of self-deprecation/body issues, stepcest. 18+ Minors DNI. DNR if you do not like or are triggered by such topics. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4,973

A/N: This part is a lot longer than the first, I guess that might explain why it’s taken me so long to fucking finish! But I did, woo-hoo! I also wanted to note that I've never written step-sibling stuff b4 this series so this is new territory for me. It's used more as a plot device and not as a 'kink' if that makes sense. I just wanted the kind of dynamic it creates & it works for me so whatever. (Fuck it, right?)  Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

(If anyone is confused about the timeline, reader arrived from college at the Drysdale residence on Friday, part 1 takes place on Sunday, and this part is about a week after part 1. Hope that helps!)

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

It had been a week since the incident with Ransom and you had done your best to act like everything was okay, like your ex-stepbrother hadn’t shoved his tongue down your throat and threatened to take away your virginity. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as you had hoped to forget his twisted words.

“I’ll be happy to teach you how to dance like the slut you were always meant to be.”

An involuntary shudder ran down your spine at the memory of the intense heat of his body pressed against yours as he spoke those vile words into your ear. Whenever your… interaction with Ransom popped into your head, you felt a deep course of shame roll through you. Not only at how he utterly humiliated you, and not just at how he’d so easily set your nerves aflame but at how his accusations had hit you right to your core.

“When you get to be your age without having a dick shoved up your needy little hole, you open your legs up to whatever comes your way.”

You despised his misogynistic slut-shaming, but a niggling at the back of your mind said he was right. You had only agreed to Tod’s proposition because you just wanted to get it over with. You were tired of feeling excluded from your peers, tired of feeling like you weren’t mature just because you hadn’t “popped your cherry,” as some people put it. That pressure seemed to outweigh your moral sensibilities because you had given it up to the first guy to show you some interest.

You hadn’t really liked him – he was one of Ransom’s friends for fuck’s sake – but when Tod came on to you that day it felt like your only option. Taking him up on his offer for a quickie in one of the guest bedrooms hadn’t felt like all your hopes had finally been answered, it had felt like you were giving up. Giving up on a real relationship. Giving up on having sex with someone you actually cared about and who cared about you too.

You had already been regretting your decision when Ransom had burst into the room and sent everything to shit, but that wasn’t any excuse for the way he’d treated you like some hussy. He didn’t own you. He wasn’t in charge of your body, or your sex life, for that matter. You gulped when, again, you recalled what he’d said.

“I’ll show you who really owns this cunt: me.”

Fuck him and his domineering, supercilious attitude.

The more you thought about it, the more you were convinced his “promise” had just been another way to mess with you. The fact that you hardly saw him this past week seemed proof enough. He was a lazy trust fund kid who barely had a job, it’s not like he had much to do other than lay around the house whenever he wasn’t off with his friends partying and being a playboy douche. He was definitely staying away from the house, and if you had to guess you’d have a pretty clear choice as to why: you.

He was avoiding you. If given the chance, you would be doing the same, but it’s hard to avoid someone when they’re not around. His arrogant ass was probably worried you would try and take him up on his “offer” and that he’d have to back down.

Of course, you would never do such a thing, but it was clear that he viewed you as nothing more than a wanton skank who was going to throw herself at his knees, begging for him to rescue her from the woes of virginity. What a fucking joke. At least his absence saved you the constant anxiety of looking over your shoulder and jumping every time you heard a door shut, afraid he would corner you and try to make good on his word.

It was obvious now that he didn’t actually want to fuck you, it had been the heat of the moment that made his body react that way – that made yours react that way. Not to mention, he couldn’t possibly be legitimately attracted to you. It was just the forbidden thrill that riled him up.

You didn’t look like any of the women he’d ever brought home, he cycled through plenty and you recognized a certain type he preferred. A type that you had, and never would, be able to fit into –  quite literally. That realization should have relieved you, but it somehow left a sour taste in your mouth. Whatever. The thing to focus on was that Ransom couldn’t give two fucks about you and the incident had just been a little blip.

With that confirmation in mind, you could walk around the house like normal and not act like some coward. Instead, you walked around confidently while internally wrestling with the feelings and images he had implanted in your head.

Sure, Ransom was conventionally attractive, handsome even, but beneath his well-defined stature was a rotted pile of bullshit. That’s what you kept repeating to yourself when the feel of his thick fingers digging into your ass flooded your mind. You replaced the sensation of his kiss that still lingered after how many days with the reminder of how many other mouths he’d shoved his tongue into before.

You were nothing to him, had always just been a footnote in his privileged path through life. The daughter of the woman who had replaced his mom and stole from the pot of gold he had amassed as an only child. You knew he looked at you and despised everything about he saw; your parentage, your background, your lack of original wealth. You weren’t worthy in his eyes. But that didn’t matter, because you regarded him all the same. ---------------------------------- It was Saturday night. The staff had the weekend off and Richard had left for some kind of overseas trip before you had even arrived last Friday.

Once again, Ransom was nowhere to be seen – thank god – so you had the house to yourself. While it was fairly large and isolating, you didn’t mind being alone in the cavernous home. On Tuesday, your stuff had finally arrived from college, so you’d taken up the guest bedroom furthest from Ransom’s.

When you left for college two years ago, your old room had been stripped of any trace of you. It was back to a pristine grayscale guest bedroom with navy accents and overstuffed furniture. Obviously, during all those years you lived in the mansion, you’d just gotten in the way of the Drysdale aesthetic of meaningless overpriced decor and detail.

Presently, you were in the kitchen, microwaving some popcorn for the movie you’d chosen to watch that evening. The popping of the kernels was loud and quick, and soon the smell of melted butter flowed through the room. A beep sounded to alert you that your food was hot and ready, so you opened the microwave door and plucked the now-inflated bag off the turntable. You held it at the corner, careful not to burn yourself, and turned around to grab the large, metal bowl sitting on the island counter.

You jumped when you saw the figure standing in the doorway.

“Whatchya makin, sunshine?”

Startled, you dropped the bowl and it tumbled to the ground, the clattering setting off even more alarms in your head. The popcorn bag had also fallen from your grip, and yellow-tinged kernels were strewn across the floor.

Ransom stood at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes crinkled in amusement as he examined the scene, taking in the spilled popcorn and silver bowl still comically rolling on the ground, making a loud whooshing noise. Looking up, his wolfish eyes landed on you. He pushed off the doorjamb and stalked forward, monitoring your shocked expression from the other side of the counter. He stilled the spinning bowl with his foot, the room now filled with tense silence.

“Well, aren’t you the fucking chef, sunshine?” He made a show of once again looking at the scattered popcorn, “I don’t remember you being such a klutz.”

Your heart was still beating fast from the surprise of seeing him, but you scrunched up your face and hissed, “I’m not a klutz. You’re the creep sneaking up on unsuspecting girls and ruining their dinner. How can you be so massive and yet so silent?”

He grinned, “I’ll take that as a compliment, sunshine. Maybe I’ll take to cat burglary one of these days. But it was pretty easy to ‘sneak up’-” his fingers made air quotes around the label- “on you when you’re making such a racket in my kitchen.”

Your jaw clenched at his choice of words. He was always laying claim to things like that, making sure you knew you were just a guest; unwanted, at that. He always made it clear that this place was his and not yours. Which didn’t really bother you. You didn’t want his life.

You ignored his attempt at a dig and walked to the long cabinet in the corner of the kitchen that held cleaning supplies and grabbed a broom and dustpan. 

Ransom gave you a quizzical look as you swept up the fallen food, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? Cleaning.”

“Just let the help do that.” He actually sounded a bit baffled.

“They’re gone, it’s Saturday,” you stated bluntly as you swept the debris into a small pile.

“So? Leave it until Monday for them to take care of. That’s what they’re fucking paid to do.” His privileged tone dripped with sharp disdain.

You rolled your eyes. He was such a spoiled brat. ���That’s how you get ants,” you said, secretly hoping your flippant tone would irk him. Inwardly, you were grateful for the task, though. You could focus on sweeping and not on Ransom’s intimidating form, or the memories it dredged up. “And I’m plenty capable of cleaning up my own messes. Although this was caused by you.”

Once you were certain all the popcorn was in a pile, you bent down, placing the dustpan on the ground and lightly sweeping the ruined food into it.

Ransom had been silent for a while, watching as you worked with a disapproving gaze, but when you bent forward, unknowingly sticking your ass out right at him, he changed his tune, “On second thought, you look pretty good as a maid.”

You scoffed and glanced back at him, eyes narrowed. He hid the glee that spread through him at your annoyance and pointed to a single kernel that sat right in front of his shiny brown shoes.

You stood back up and emptied the debris into the trash can hidden under the counter. “You have opposable thumbs and working limbs, why don’t you get it yourself?” 

“You’re the one who said you were perfectly capable of cleaning up your own mess,” he countered.

Heaving a sigh, you trudged up to him. You stared him dead in the eyes before crouching down and snatching up the tiny piece of popcorn. 

Your plan was to spring back up and flick it right into his stupidly good-looking face, but that was thwarted when a weighted hand pressed on your shoulder.

You looked up and Ransom’s blue eyes gleamed. “Why don’t you stay down there, sunshine? You look so perfect kneeling before me.”

A rush of heat flooded through you, but you batted his hand away, moving back slightly before standing up, successfully, this time.

“Ha. Ha. Ransom,” you tossed the last piece of popcorn into the trash as you walked over to the sink, “I know that you get some kind of sick amusement making misogynistic comments like that, but I’m not about to let your pompous ass intimidate me. Not again.” You turned your back to him and started washing your hands. The water was scalding, but you welcomed the distraction.

This time you would stand up for yourself. This time he wouldn’t catch you off guard. “So go back to whatever man-child frat party you came from and have fun with people who act just like you – drunk assholes with the mental capacity of 15-year-old boys who think being a dick is a personality tr-”

Two large, thickly veined, hands slammed down on on either side of you. They gripped the edge of the sink tightly, caging you in. You squeaked when you felt a domineering form hovering behind you. One of the powerful hands reached forward and turned off the roaring water of the faucet.

Hot breath prickled against your ear. “Looks like the little virgin’s finally got some balls,” Ransom’s low voice sounded sinister, even with his usual sarcastic bite, “I forgot how infuriating you usually are. Even though you play-act this strong, empowered, bitchy character, I know what you really are beneath all that big talk, and I miss that begging, distraught, wannabe whore.”

You flinched, feeling inside every bit as helpless as he accused you of being. You fought not to let it show, though, “Ransom, remove yourself from my personal space.” Instead of the strong, unbothered tone you were going for, your voice sounded hushed and weak.

His deep chuckle sent shivers down your spine. “Sunshine, what did I just say? Remember how the last time we saw each other, you were whoring it out in my home?” He shoved his hand between your thighs, cupping your mound. “All because this virgin cunt couldn’t last a single second more without being filled full of cock.” The heel of his palm dug into your pulsing core and your body curled forward, shocked by the sudden pressure. “I already told you that I’d give you the honor of losing that innocence to me, so I don’t see why we have to beat around the bush, so to speak.”

You clutched his hand and pried it away from your heat, not sure where you found the strength to do so. You pressed yourself against the sink, trying to leave as little room for another move like that as possible.

Instead of attempting to dive back in, Ransom rested his hand on your plush waist, squeezing tightly, “Still playing hard to get, huh? I know you want my dick inside you, sunshine.”

You shut out the millions of charged electrons shooting through you and blurted out, “Even if I wanted to have sex with you – which I absolutely do not – I don’t need some pity fuck from a two-pump chump like you. You could be the last person on Earth and I’d still rather die a virgin than let your limp little dick anywhere near me.”

Ransom stilled behind you, fully removing himself from your body. For a second you thought that was it, that he’d leave.

How foolish of you.

Strong hands gripped your hips and spun you around. Ransom dug a hand into your hair and pulled the locks tight. You felt the bite as they tugged at your scalp. Just like last time, his eyes suddenly lacked the mischievous glint that always seemed to shine in them. Instead, they were cold, sky-blue orbs. You could see a seething fire beneath his stoic face, only given away by the twitch in his left eye and the clench of his chiseled jaw.

He didn’t do anything though - not yet - he just held you there to cower before him, letting you become more and more fearful of what was spinning around in that twisted mind of his. You looked away but he shook the fist tangled in your hair, your eyes rattled in your skull as you brought them back to focus on him. 

He breathed in deeply, “Pity fuck, huh?” He used his grip on you to tilt your head back and forth, examining your frightened features, “That’s what you think I’m doing, sunshine?” You gulped. He shook you again, “Answer me!”

“W-why else would s-someone like you be interested in m-me?” You squeaked out, hating the self-deprecating words, but not knowing how else to combat his advance.

His eyebrows turned up in something you assumed was supposed to convey sympathy. “Oh sunshine, that’s real cute. You know, I thought this shy, self-conscious shit was just an act to turn me off, but you actually don’t see what you do to me?”

He brought his other hand up and stroked your chin, grazing your jaw as he traced some invisible line down your neck. “Besides, when have I ever been known to show pity?” He spat the word out like a curse as his fingernails scraped your sensitive flesh.

His look of pure fascination as he watched his hand’s descent baffled you. You pushed your thighs closer together, unsure as to why his expression sent heat rushing between them. His ghosting fingers came to a stop right over your heart and he splayed his fingers out, palm flat against your sternum. He stared at his hand as it moved up and down with the rhythm of your breaths.

“Sunshine, I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I can’t keep my eyes off of you. And even when you’re not around, you still won’t leave my fucking head. It infuriates me. That this girl that stumbled into my life, this nothing, suddenly flipped a switch in my brain. I mean, I’ve fucked plenty of chicks in my day, even went out with a lucky few, but none of them have done what you do to me.”

His other hand moved to grip your waist, kneading the soft slope. “I’ll be the first one to agree that you’re not the stereotypical type of woman I keep around, but maybe that’s just another reason every time you enter a room I lose sight of all reason.” His fingers bit into your soft flesh as his grip tightened. “I lose my fucking mind, sunshine, and it’s all your fault.” 

You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was stare at him helplessly as his hand on your chest curled up to wrap around your throat. His eyes blazed with desire as he squeezed, leaning forward so that his lips brushed yours.

The way he was acting scared you more than him cursing and berating you. That you understood, that you could fight. But this? This spelled more than a one-time thing, more than misplaced desire or hate fucking. There was a possessiveness in Ransom’s eyes that terrified you.

Even more than that, though, his actions had your mind and body in overdrive. No one had ever wanted you like this before, and the fact that it was someone with an icy heart like Ransom, made you feel almost special in some fucked up sort of way.

Everything was wrong. You needed to get out of there. You shook your head and brought a hand up to pull at his wrist. “N-no Ransom, you don’t actually like me. You just like the idea of fucking someone who’s off limits and I’m off limits for a very legitimate reason-”

His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, muffling your protests. “Sunshine, you always make it perfectly clear that we’re ex step-siblings. Besides, it’s not like we were raised up together, it’s really not that big of a deal. But you’re not wrong completely, it does make this all the more enticing - and I bet you feel the same way, too.”

His hand returned to your core, this time diving past your waistband and into your panties. You shrieked, again grasping at it in an attempt to remove the appendage. It was buried in there though, so your attempts were futile and when he ran a finger along your slit you convulsed. Your body wasn’t used to this kind of sensation. It wasn’t used to any attention like this.

His sadistic laugh echoed off the sterile kitchen walls, ringing in your burning ears. When the fingers that had been rubbing through your folds, playing with the embarrassing amount of slick, moved to your clit, you lost touch with reality. The sodden digits working over your coursing bundle of nerves in rough circles was sending shocks through your system.

You cried out at the sparks and Ransom grinned. “That’s right Sunshine,” His fingers plunged into your drenched pussy as his palm ground into your clit. “Only I can make you feel this way.” You quivered against his touch, already feeling the pull of your orgasm. “You think any 20-something college shithead is gonna touch you like I do or make you cum like I’m about to?” 

You pressed your eyes closed, trying to drown out his words and focus on the magic happening between your thighs. You tried to imagine it was anyone but Ransom touching you. He grasped the side of your face, turning you to look at him.

He jostled your eyes open again and you gasped at the intensity in his darkened eyes, the pupils overshadowed any of the icy blue they usually held. “Answer me.” His grip was bruising and pulled your focus from his relentless toying underneath.

You gulped, not wanting to say the words, but the need for release beat out your pride in the end, “N-no, Ransom, only you.” The words felt heavy on your tongue but your mind was clouded with electric sparks as he curled his fingers up into your g-spot.

A garbled cry fell from your lips at the new pressure and Ransom swallowed it with his mouth as he lunged forward, arresting your moans with his own as you locked lips. His teeth bit into your lower lip until they broke skin, the slight tang of blood mixed with spit as he dragged it into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his own as he growled at the taste and feel of you. 

His fingers followed the motions of his tongue as they both explored all that you had to offer. His hand dropped from your face and moved down, roaming over the expanses of your skin. He pressed it against the soft curve of your belly, and you made a disapproving sound, your hand coming up to pull his away from the parts of you that you didn’t want anyone to know about, nonetheless touch. He growled a warning and batted your hand away.

“Mine,” he grumbled into the harsh kiss and continued to run his large, warm hand over you, over all of you. He took his time to squeeze and caress every part of you that you always hid away as if to force you to acknowledge that the feeling of his heated palm and deft fingers actually felt incredible. It made you feel desired in a way you hadn’t before, a way that made your knees weak.

His long fingers were pumping in and out of your aching pussy, the squelching sound that filled the room made you both ashamed and turned on. Your breath hitched when he focused back on your clit again, his fore and middle fingers dancing around it as you started to shake in his strong embrace. You felt lightheaded as Ransom dragged you to the edge, your feet scrambling for purchase because you didn’t know what was going to happen when you inevitably came. You had never experienced such a crushing, overbearing tension in your abdomen before, the pressure made your body tense like you were a live wire about to spring.

Ransom buried his fingers in your pussy again as his other hand ceased its exploration of your generous curves and came to join it at the apex of your thighs. He settled his fingers on your bundle of nerves and once more began his blissful torment. He worked his hands independently as one pistoned into you over and over at an agonizing speed and perfect angle and the other attacked your clit. His endless teasing was pure torture as he rubbed the pulsing nub, not letting you build on a simple incline but bringing you up and down over and over as he kept switching between determined, heavy pressure and feather-light touch.

His mouth was still devouring yours. It was like he was taking control of your entire being, working your body in a way that only he knew how, removing your autonomy from the equation. He was showing you that he was the only person who could bring this kind of soaring pleasure to you, not even your own hands could do what he was doing. It was as if he was inside your brain and knew just how to light up every one of your nerve endings.

He wrenched his lips away and you let out a lewd cry as he ran his teeth down your exposed neck, nipping and slurping as he went. Your hopes that he wouldn’t leave a visible mark vanished when his teeth bit into your pulse point and he sucked. You had always found hickeys to be vulgar and unnecessary, but the sound and heat made your knees weak. 

Your voice was a mix of unintelligible sounds and a tumble of expletives and even Ransom’s name. Every time his name spilled from your lips, he pressed into you even further, which seemed impossible at that point.

He finally stuck with grinding his fingers against your clit fully as he added another thick digit to the two that were already thrusting in and out of your quaking pussy. He’d been keeping you at the crest of your peak for who knows how long. All you knew is you would say anything - do anything - for him to make you cum right now, and that sentiment played across your lips in a garble of wanton pleas.

He must have been able to decipher the mumble of your slurred words because he stilled. You whined, your hips bucking up, but he stilled you with a flat palm to your abdomen. A low laugh brushed across your collarbone as he licked his way back up to your ear. His hot breath sent tingles along your spine as he whispered, “You better remember that promise, Sunshine. Begging for an orgasm like the little cockwhore I always knew you were. My little cockwhore,”

You couldn’t combat his claims, heat flamed across your face at his cutting words. They felt true at that very moment, even though the part of you that detested him screamed at you to deny him. “But, who am I to resist when you beg so nice and pretty for me? Go ahead, I’ll give a fucking slut just what she wants, Sunshine. Give my pussy what she needs.”

With that, his fingers thrusted back into your hole, curling up as his other hand’s fingers practically vibrated against your aching clit. 

You screamed as your orgasm overtook you, it blasted through your body in a strike of lightning that shook your bones and boiled your blood. There was nothing else there as the world collapsed around you, you couldn’t even hear the satisfied laughter of Ransom as you drifted through a fucked-out abyss.

Your legs fell out from under you and Ransom pulled you closer, grinding his hard-on into you, groaning into your ear. In the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help the muffled, “Thank you, Ransom” that flew from your mouth as his fingers worked you through your peak.

It felt like hours before you finally came down from your high, Ransom’s hand still buried between your thick thighs. He couldn’t remove it if he wanted to, not with how tightly you clenched around it. His free hand came up and brushed away the hair sticking to your sweaty brow, gazing at your still panting form.

He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you into another searing kiss before he bent down to your neck again and bit into the mark he’d already made, sucking even harder to make sure the bruise would last. “Mine,” his low voice grumbled, as he lapped at the mark.

He licked his way up to your ear before he spoke in a clear voice, breaking you from your reverie, “Gotta run, sunshine-” he managed to finally pull his hand from between your still trembling thighs. He wiped his drenched fingers on your shirt, staining it with your essence- “don’t get me wrong, I’d love to stay and continue the fun, but I’ve got a date with a hot piece of ass from my gym named Vanessa.” He spoke the name like it dripped molten gold.

For some reason, your heart sank to your stomach at his words.

He fully removed himself from you, straightening out his tight fitting, thin, sweater and rolling down his sleeves. His eyes raked over the messy, cockdumb state he’d put you in, a self-satisfied smirk played at his lips.

He checked his watch before he continued his cutting speech, “I’m already running late, not that she’ll mind though, it is me, after all.” He palmed his cock, shifting it in his straining pants. “Might have to skip dinner and head right to dessert, if you know what I mean,” he winked at you as he sauntered out of the kitchen.

Before he turned the corner, he paused, glancing back at you with fire in his eyes. “I’ll see you around, sunshine. You’re gonna have to return the favor, after all.”

With that, he exited your vision, the sound of his measured steps echoed off the hallway walls and rang in your head as you sunk down to the floor. Tears ran down your cheeks, unbidden by you, and you let out a shaky cry as you were once again left to wallow in guilt and shame and insatiable desire by Ransom fucking Drysdale.

#ransom drysdale #stepbro!ransom drysdale #soft!dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x plus size reader #mean!ransom drysdale #stepbro!ransom drysdale x reader #stepbrother!ransom drysdale #tw stepcest #soft!dark!ransom drysdale x plus size reader #ransom drysdale smut #virgin!reader #plus size reader #plus-size!reader #plus size reader insert #chris evans character fanfic #Chris Evans #chris evans x plus size reader #Knives Out #ransom knives out #my writing #me #rubynationwins #dark fic #no y/n

[the-iceni-bitch]

You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again

Part IX/X

Pairing: soft!dark (mostly soft at this point) Alpha stepbrother Ransom Drysdale x innocent!Omega stepsister reader

Summary: Shit hits the fan in the biggest way possible when your father and Linda show up.

Chapter Warnings: A/B/O, explicit language, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, domestic violence, mentions of sexual assault and abortion, abusive relationship, religious trauma, medical setting, 18+ ONLY SERIES!!

A/N: Another fucking doozy, I’m so sorry, you guys! This heavy shit is killing me, but good news is there’s only one more chapter after this one. And just remember, they’re endgame!!!! It’ll all be okay!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Ransom heard the low buzzing of the hospital bustle suddenly get more intense and knew your family must have arrived, scrubbing his hand over his face and shaking his leg with nerves while you squeezed his hand. The way you were looking at him was only making things worse, like he would always be there for you and was the only thing that could make you happy. He had never felt like a bigger piece of shit in his entire life, he almost hoped your father would kill him.

“Yes, thank you so much for all the work you do, God bless you.” Ransom felt every muscle tense up when your father opened the door and kept chatting with the hospital staff, practically groaning when his mother flitted into the room followed by the giant bodyguards that attended your parents wherever they went. “We do so appreciate you letting our family have some privacy during this difficult time. How the hell could you let this happen?”

As soon as the door was closed your father dropped the facade, sneering at Ransom and stomping over to him while he just shook with barely contained rage and kept looking at you. He hated the man.

“You were supposed to look out for her, Ransom.” Linda’s mouth was pursed tight while she too glared at her son, huffing when he refused to turn his attention to either of them and instead kept gazing at you. “Why would you ever let that man anywhere near her?”

“It wasn’t Ransom’s fault.” You were starting to cry again, the desire to lean up and bury your face in Ransom’s chest strong but not enough to overcome the sedative they gave you. “He saved me. Please don’t fight.”

“He introduced that monster to you.” Your father snarled when Ransom continued to ignore him. “The fact that he almost killed that pervert is the only reason I think he didn’t have anything to do with this and I haven’t had him hauled out of here.”

“I want him to stay, daddy.” You tilted your head up to Ransom and choked on a sob when he squeezed your hand. “I need him.”

The door opening cut your father off when he opened his mouth again, his attempt to school his face abandoned once he saw that it was just the family doctor and nurse they had brought with them.

“The doctor here is a little too eager, she did not want to give up her chart. You might need to fill out some paperwork so she doesn’t raise a stink.” The man didn’t even acknowledge you or Ransom, just flipping through your medical records and talking to your father like you didn’t matter. “Wants to send her to therapy too, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“We’ll find a nice Omega pastor for you to talk to, honey.” Linda ignored the way Ransom snarled when she came to stand on your other side and gave your hand a demeaning pat. “These doctors don’t understand what you need. And we’re still going to find you a mate, it will be someone who will treat you sweetly and take care of you.”

“Oh, I don’t…” you swallowed what you were about to say when your father shouldered Ransom away from you after the doctor handed him your records, chewing on your lip as he frowned at you and passed the chart to Linda. “Daddy?”

His backhand caught all of you off guard, Linda catching you when you screamed and almost fell out of the bed while Ransom grabbed your father and shoved him up against the wall with a low growl. He might’ve done more if it wasn’t for those damn bodyguards, thrown to the floor and pinned there before he even knew what was happening and left to watch helplessly while your father grabbed your cheeks and started snarling in your face.

“How much knot have you taken, you little slut?” He was shaking you violently while you started crying, ignoring the increasingly vicious growls that were coming from Ransom as he thrashed to get out of the hold he was in so he could tear the man off you. “Do you have any idea what this is gonna do to me? Were you even raped or did you just make it up when you got caught?”

“Don’t you fucking talk to her like that, you goddamn bastard.” Ransom struggled to get off the floor and groaned when he couldn’t. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Both of you stop, we’re in a public hospital!” Linda hissed at the two of them until they calmed down, storming to the door when someone pounded on it and popping her head out to reassure them. “Everything is fine, there’s just a lot of emotions right now, thank you so much for your concern. You two idiots quit thinking with your fucking knots, Jesus. Let him up. Sweetheart, you need to explain to us how you’re pregnant.”

“I am?” You rubbed your cheek and sniveled while Linda let you lean against her shoulder and patted your hair, looking warily at your father and trying to breathe deeply while tears continued to leak down your cheeks. “But that’s wonderful, Ransom…”

He groaned when you looked at him with watery eyes, feeling your parents’ gazes snapping onto him as he leaned against the wall and tried to avoid looking at anyone else. This was it, he didn’t know why he was surprised that he’d actually managed to get you pregnant since you’d spent your entire shared heat and rut locked together. They were going to kill him.

“You?!?” Ransom pushed your father away when he tried to get in his space, rising to his full height and sneering at the supposedly threatening look on his face. “You little asshole, I can’t believe I trusted you with her, you’re such a fucking pervert. You ruin everything.”

“Daddy, please stop!” You started crying harder when they kept posturing at each other, trying to curl in on yourself and breathing heavily while you felt panic starting to set in. “He was helping me like you wanted, we just fell in love.”

“Like I wanted? What the hell are you talking about?” Your father blinked at you then just growled as he rolled his eyes. “So you’re not just a slut, you’re a damn idiot too.”

“I’m not, why would you say that?” You were sobbing again, longing for Ransom to come hold you instead of his mother. “I was good, I did everything I was told so I could be a good mate…”

“A good mate doesn’t fuck her stepbrother.” He finally turned away from Ransom and back to you and you cowered. “Did he tell you he was helping you? He lied, you moron.”

“No, he didn’t.” You shook your head and refused to look at your father as your chest started heaving with tortured breaths. “You’re lying, why are you lying? Why are you saying these things? Ransom…”

“Bunny…” his heart broke when you looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered, and he didn’t know how he was going to live with himself. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Ransom tried to go to you when you crumpled and started weeping uncontrollably, snarling when your father pushed him back and feeling his chest start to ache as you shook in Linda’s arms. “You said you loved me.”

“I do, I love you so much.” He knew if he could just hold you he could make it alright, but they wouldn’t let him close to you and he felt like he was going to start screaming. “I didn’t want to hurt you, please…”

“You didn’t care what you did, I can’t believe you.” Linda hushed you when you kept bawling, frowning at her son and rubbing your back when you heaved suddenly. “And now we have to take care of your little problem.”

“What do you mean?” You whimpered when Linda ignored you and looked at your father, your eyes flicking between the two of them and your chest getting even tighter. “No…no it’s a baby, my baby. A baby is a blessing, you can’t mean this.”

“Hush, do you have a sedative for her?” Your father nodded when the doctor pulled out a needle, snorting when Ransom tried to charge him and ended up pinned to the wall by his two goons. “We’re not doing this here. Linda, do your best at managing any staff that may have seen her test results so it doesn’t leak to the press. We’re taking you home.”

“No, don’t touch me.” You slapped away the doctor’s hands when he tried to restrain you, looking at Linda and your father pleadingly while she pulled out her phone to talk to one of her team members. “Daddy, please, don’t do this to me.”

“You’re not having this bastard’s pup.” Your father sighed when you pushed the doctor away again, holding your face in his hands and ignoring Ransom’s snarl as he tried to soothe you. “He lied to you, his friend hurt you, he doesn’t care about you. Do you really want to have his baby?”

“I don’t know.” You shuddered and tried to look at Ransom, whining when your father’s hold on your head prevented it and licking your lips as you struggled with yourself. “You said it’s a sin, Daddy. It’s an innocent little baby.”

“We can talk about this at home.” You missed the frustrated tic in your father’s jaw before he kissed your forehead, but Ransom saw it, and it made him try even harder to get out of the grip they had him in. “Don’t you want to go home, peanut? Away from all these strangers?”

“Mmhm.” You were still crying, and you were exhausted, so when the nurse brought you a coat and helped you out of bed you just let her, avoiding Ransom’s eyes and seating yourself in the wheelchair beside your bed. “Home.”

“What do you want us to do with him?” Ransom sneered when one of the bodyguards talked about him to your father like he wasn’t even there, wanting nothing so much as to call out to you when they started rolling you away.

“You.” Your father got right in Ransom’s face and smiled wickedly when he couldn’t do anything except grumble. “If only I could just fucking get rid of you, you little shit. But I can settle for finally getting your mother to cut you off and ruining your life. You come anywhere near my daughter again, though, you’ll spend the rest of your miserable life in a fucking jail cell.”

Ransom just sagged to the floor once they were all gone, running his hands through his hair and groaning at the mess of emotions he could feel rising in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about the broken look on your face when you found out he’d lied, hating himself and trying not to start crying when he considered how badly he’d fucked up.

He’d never felt so absolutely wretched in his entire life. He always knew he was a bastard, but hurting you was maybe the lowest thing he’d ever done. You were so good, and pure, and completely innocent and he’d ruined you for nothing but the chance to pull one over on your parents.

But he’d never hit you. And now he’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, not even be with him.

He might not deserve you, but neither did they.

“Paul.” Ransom charged out of the room and found the detective leaning against the counter and chatting with the doctor who had been so kind to you. “They can’t take her.”

“She went with them, man.” Paul looked uncomfortable at the raw emotion that was written all over Ransom’s face. “I can’t do anything if she went of her own free will.”

“He hit her.” Ransom was desperate, sighing when Paul just gave him a defeated shrug and turning to the doctor. “He hit her, and called her a slut. They’re not gonna get her counseling and force her to have an abortion.”

“I fucking knew it, these goddamn religious assholes.” The doctor turned to Paul and gave him a look that would’ve cut through steel. “We can do a welfare hold or something, she’s a victim of a crime, Diskant, c’mon.”

“I just need a minute to talk to her.” Ransom scrubbed his fingers through his hair when Paul finally nodded. “And witnesses so I don’t kill that fucker.”

Maybe he should’ve been worried by the sheer number of cops and hospital staff that were suddenly swarming the parking lot, but he only saw you. He barely heard Paul telling your parents that no, they couldn’t just run off with a victim of a violent crime before her doctors released her and yes, they could have the number of his supervising officer who would tell them the same thing. All he saw was the doctor and three large Beta nurses arguing with your parents’ medical staff until one of them managed to pull you away from them and started comforting you when you began to mewl quietly.

“Bunny.” Ransom winced when you hissed at him as he knelt in front of you, fighting the urge to hold your hands in his while you cried silent tears. “Bunny, I’m sorry. I lied about my reasons but I didn’t lie about loving you, I promise. And you can hate me and never see me again, but I can’t let you go with them.”

“They’re my family.” You hated everything you were feeling right now, sick at the thought that you had betrayed all of your values for the man in front of you but also wanting nothing more than to bury your face in his neck and let him take you away. “They wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He hit you.” Ransom didn’t have time to be as gentle with you as he would have preferred, not when he heard your father starting to raise his voice as he threatened to sue the police department for impinging on his rights. “Was this the first time?”

You nodded, but you had never seen your father as angry as you had in that hospital room, or heard him say such hateful things that went against everything he had taught you. He had scared you, and it made you sick to your stomach the thought that your father could strike you for any reason.

“He’ll do it again, you know he will. He has expectations you’ll never be able to meet and he’ll take it out on you when you can’t.” He wanted to hold you and never let you go, you looked so small and helpless and the knowledge that you were carrying his pup was sending his hindbrain into overdrive. “He won’t let you keep it, he might say he will, but he and that fucking doctor will cook up some way to sneak you something then pawn you off on the first Alpha they can find who won’t care about how supposedly ‘used’ you are. Look at me, Omega.”

Ransom chuffed softly when you finally brought your eyes back to his, leaning forward until his nose was almost brushing yours and sighing when you placed your hands on his shoulders. Even after everything he had done, you felt safe with him, and only with him. You shouldn’t believe anything that came out of his mouth, but you still wanted him in spite of everything.

“I love you, Omega.” Ransom cupped your face gently and rubbed the tears from your cheek with his thumb, crooning when you purred at his touch. “You don’t have to believe me, I don’t deserve it. But I can’t let you go with them. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want, you can keep it, or not. But it’s your choice, bunny, no one else’s. Please don’t let them take you.”

“Ransom…” you felt your bottom lip quiver as you gazed at him, pulling him closer and nuzzling at his cheek until the rest of the world faded away. “I want our pup, I want you, only you, my Alpha.”

It all hit you in the chest at once; how much you needed him, how close it had come to the two of you never seeing each other again, how everyone and everything else seemed terrifying if he wasn’t going to be there with you. Something came over you that was close to panic, the thought of being apart from him painful and crippling and making you keen. You needed to make sure he couldn’t be taken from you, you thought you might die if that ever happened.

“Bunny, what are you doing?” Ransom looked at the nurse who was still holding your wheelchair awkwardly when you started nosing your way down his neck until your lips were pressed against his gland, groaning when you bared your teeth and trying to gauge what your intentions were. “Omega…”

“I want the bond, we need it.” You gazed up at him with watery eyes and he melted, cradling the back of your head and feeling himself start to tear up. “Please, I don’t want them to take me from you, my Alpha.”

“Omegamine.” Ransom nodded at you and rumbled gently when he felt your teeth dig into his gland, a thin trickle of blood running down his throat and the crimson liquid staining your lips when you pulled back to gaze at him with wide blown eyes. “They’ll never take you from me, I swear.”

You buried your hands in his hair and whined when he ducked and sank his teeth into your gland, your body arching towards him and your heart pounding against your ribs as a flood of emotions washed over you. All you could feel was relief and warmth as the bond opened up and your love for Ransom was mirrored back to you, crying when he brought his face back to yours and smashed your lips together with a deep moan.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Your father looked like his head was about to explode when he spotted the two of you, Ransom kissing you gently and letting you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while he turned to snarl at the man. “I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit. Why the fuck aren’t you arresting him? He just bonded her without consent.”

“She consented.” Ransom could’ve kissed the giant nurse he’d wished wasn’t near you just a few moments ago, nodding back at him and stroking your hair while you sniffled at having so much attention on you. “She marked him first, and was adamant that she did not want to go anywhere with you.”

“I’m her father, she doesn’t get a say.” Ransom wanted to rip the man’s heart out when he heard you whimper, he was never going to let that man within fifty feet of you for the rest of your life. “Get her away from him.”

“That’s not how things work anymore.” Paul stepped between your father and Ransom when the man growled viciously, Linda holding your father’s arm and trying to calm him down while the hospital staff began wheeling you back into the hospital while Ransom held your hand. “They’ve got a witness, and the bond takes precedence over whatever shit you’ve got going on. I suggest you go home before the doctor here decides to trespass you.”

The two of you could still hear him screaming once you were inside, but you ignored him, gazing at your mate and relaxing when you felt him sending waves of reassurance and protection through the bond. He did love you, that was all that mattered, your body succumbing to the exhaustion that had been plaguing you once they got you back into a bed and he sat next to you.

“You’re safe, bunny.” Ransom kissed your forehead and chuffed when he saw your breathing grow deep and easy, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb gazing lovingly at you while you finally slept. “And I’ll make sure you stay safe, I promise.”

#natalie writes #you’ll never go down to the gods again #alpha ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #female reader insert #female reader #x female reader #ransom x you #chris evans #chris evans character #eighteen and over #eighteen plus #tw sa #tw soft dark #tw sa mention #tw sex assault #tw abortion

[onsunnyside]

♔⌎ 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞: 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

Welcome to the 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 for the characters of 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 for the readers.

❝ Being an omega in this day and age isn’t easy, and these poor girls couldn’t have been more unlucky with enrolling at Howard College.

Some thirst for change, others merely want a way out, and the rest are too innocent to even notice their ultimate demise. ❞

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬: ATA!Reader (starlet), CL!Reader (legacy), SOS!Reader (cherry), NF!Reader, YG!Reader (casanova), and K!Reader (pet).

𝗔/𝗡 | where I’m from, the legal drinking age is 19, and unfortunately, I wrote this story with that in mind, so even though the legal drinking age in the U.S. is 21, just bear with me. Also, I’ll probably add new members if new projects come out !! Note: all visuals made by me (crest, dividers, moodboards, etc.) but no images belong to me. 

α (alpha) |  β (beta) |  Ω (omega)

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿 | The photos used for each reader are not meant to represent a specific ethnicity, body type or ideal—the set was created for the general vibe of the reader! I imagine the readers in their early-to-mid twenties, feel free to choose a specific age yourself.

𝐇𝐂𝐕 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬:

| ATA!Reader (starlet) |  3rd Year | Ω | Theatre Arts/Drama Major | Omega Rights Activist

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: an addictive union of deep coffee and vanilla with seductive hints of pear and orange blossom.

❝ And the thrill of the chase moves in mysterious ways. So in case I'm mistaken, I just wanna hear you say, "You got me baby" "Are you mine?" ❞ — Arctic Monkeys, R U Mine

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | With dreams of velvet curtains, rows of adoring fans and flashing cameras, you’ve always been fierce with an unbreakable ambition. Your rose-coloured glasses have long since shattered, and you have the unlucky gift of seeing society for what it really is—a cruel kingdom, an unfair hierarchy based on status. Always honouring the alphas, leaving everyone else to scramble for the crumbs to survive.

The world is not a place of wonder and magic, it’s crawling with monsters who have dehumanized your kind and stripped away your rights. Although, you firmly believe not all hope is lost, you will keep fighting even if no one will listen, all it takes is to try, and you haven’t failed anything yet.

Starring in: 𝐀 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐀𝐜𝐭 | #tough act: reader

| CL!Reader (legacy) |  2nd Year | Ω | Kappa Phi Legacy | Natasha’s little sister | Journalism Major

About Kappa Phi: #hc: kappa

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: an uplifting mix of wild strawberries, youthful vanilla and jasmine.

❝ How will you know the difficulties of being human, if you’re always flying off to blue perfection? ❞ — Rumi, the pattern improves

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | All your life, you’ve strived for the best. Spending many years following in your mother’s footsteps, idolizing her, and allowing yourself to be belittled in the process. You thought being in Kappa Phi would solve all of your problems, mend your relationship with your mother, and get you one foot into the highly competitive world of journalism, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

Unfortunately, being Kappa Phi’s newest legacy came with a few sacrifices—from yourself, both externally and internally, and ultimately, giving up all control in your life.

Starring in: 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲  |  #captains legacy: reader

| SOS!Reader (cherry)  |  1st Year | Ω | Culinary Major & Aspiring Baker

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: a combination of toasty warm florals, from freesia, rose and jasmine, with a lingering dash of baked sweets.

❝ Glued up, sometimes it's too much. I'm fucked up and clueless….life would be boring. Empty but no hurting (hurting). Is it necessary to touch when it's scary? ❞ — Melanie Martinez, Glued

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | Be good and do good, honour yourself and your family, have faith in the beings of the heavens. You are sheltered and introverted, never making decisions for yourself, just obeying every command of your parents. Their guidance has bled into every inch of your life—but you don’t know any better, never having the chance to create or solve things yourself. All you had to do was follow their rules and live up to any expectations, be the virtuous daughter of their dreams.

Who knew all of that micromanaging, protection, censorship and guidance would make you the perfect prey?

❝ 3 Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? 4 The one who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not trust in an idol or swear by a false god. ❞ — Psalm 24:3-4

Starring in: 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧’ | #sos: reader

| NF!Reader  |  2nd Year | Ω | Visual Arts Major

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: a subtle cloud of grapefruit and orange with white florals, and a bit of paint.

❝ ...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough? ❞ — Vincent van Gogh

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | You love cashmere sweaters, the morning breeze and the sound of rain, the softest things hold a special place in your shy, reserved heart. A lover of the arts, but an overwhelming revere for the visual kind—sculptures, photography, painting and drawing, and even architecture.

To you, the world and its inhabitants are art, individual completed pieces, unforgeable, and remarkable in their own ways. You are art too, and you’re hanging in the Louvre. But unlike others, you are incomplete. There is an empty corner at the bottom, just waiting for a signature to finish the masterpiece—to make you into something more, an art piece that belongs to another.

Starring in: 𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐨 | #non finito: reader

| YG!Reader (casanova)  |  4th Year | Ω | Howard College Cheerleader | was in a now shut down sorority | Fashion Major (Styling)

Note: casanova is in 3rd year in Young Gods, and 4th year in the rest of the fics.

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: an attention-grabbing fusion with a woody, earthy and spicy base that leaves a faint trail of sweet patchouli behind.

❝ Out if the ash I rise....And I eat men like air. ❞ — Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus (4)

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | The seductive glamour girl, the spoiled homecoming queen, the campus brat—you’re a casanova with swaying hips and a trail of broken hearts behind you. Life was handed to you on a sparkling silver platter and at the hands of your affluent family. Practically bathing in riches, you’ve won various beauty pageants and cheerleading competitions. Being an omega is not a place of pity or loss of pride. There is an undeniable lure surrounding the lowest class—and shame is not in your vocabulary. Your status is not a curse but a blessing, omegas are sensual and captivating creatures who could own the world if they wanted but that doesn’t interest you.

You crave the perfect life with the wealth and reputation of your creditable and successful family. Even if that means an arranged marriage. Although, they never said you must be faithful, being the temptress of Howard College, you’ve had your fair share of lovers and don’t plan on being loyal anytime soon. You’d rather be caught dead than bowing at the feet of an alpha. You demand control and attention, regardless of how defiant and untamed your methods are, you will be your own god.

Starring in: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 | #yg: reader

| Kalopsia!Reader (pet)  |  1st Year | Ω | Dance Major

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | scent: a soft blend of sage and white tea, with inviting white iris and musk that never goes out of style.

❝ Instead it’s slow and insidious, slinking through you like ink through water, until it permeates every inch of your soul. ❞ — Karina Halle, A Nordic King

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 | “Be careful, sweetheart, the city can be wicked” to your kind—it went unsaid in the postcards from your parents but you were timid, unscathed, and terribly gullible, so that warning went straight over your head. From a small town to living with your grandparents, you were so blissfully aware of the monsters that lurk within the skyscrapers and bustling streets, and most importantly, the darkness clouding Howard College.

A pristine freshman is the latest talk on campus, and you being an unmated omega only pushes you further into the spotlight. You were bound to catch the gaze of your new peers, including the popular, rugged, and cold-hearted alphas of the infamous fraternity, Arcadia Phi.

You wander straight into their trap, blinded by the endless beauty of the new big and bright city—or foolish naivety.

Starring in: 𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐚 | #kalopsia: reader

#dark #tw dark #tw dark themes #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic #into the howard college verse #sonny’s stories #moodboards #onsunnyside #reader insert #omega reader #chubby omega reader #omega!reader #innocent omega reader #dark steve rogers #dark ari levinson #dark curtis everett #dark ransom drysdale #dark andy barber #alpha!andy barber #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!ari levinson #alpha!ransom drysdale #alpha!curtis everett #factfile #Chris Evans #steve rogers #andy barber #Curtis Everett #ransom drysdale

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Posting a little blurb of my Lloyd Hansen x Reader x Ransom Drysdale fic

All mistakes are mine and this is a work in progress

Warnings: Implied smut, Lloyd Hansen & Ransom Drysdale (they're both warnings) implied fingering, implied choking. Hope I didn't forget anything

Caught

*header made by the lovely and amazing @lilacevans *

*divider made by @saradika please check both out*

Lloyd strokes your flushed cheek and smiles “Oh yeah? Are you sure sunshine?” You nod and manage to slide onto Lloyd’s lap nuzzling along his neck, letting out a pleased grunt his hands move up and down your back, glancing at Ransom he winks at him “Look at you so bold now sunshine, what brought all this on?” You pout and grumble softly “M’sad and lonely!” Biting on your lower lip you look at both men

“Ran come closer please” He glances at you and rolls his eyes but slides closer to you “Shouldn’t have had so much to drink sweetheart” You poke him in the chest huffing softly “You should be nicer!” Ransom chuckles “Oh yeah and why is that? Because you told me too?” You lean in close and kiss him gasping at how soft his lips are, you feel him pull you tighter. Lloyd smirks and nibbles along your neck making you squirm in Ransom’s lap “Look at sunshine all needy, want us to help hmm?”

You nod feeling Ransom’s hands moving along the zipper of your dress, Lloyd grabs your hair pulling your head back to look at him “We need words sunshine, or have you already gone dumb thinking of us wrecking you?” You lick your lips and moan softly “Yes, I need both of you” Lloyd laughs and bites down on your neck sucking hard while his hand wraps around your throat adding pressure, Ransom watches and smirks “Who would have thought this would get you so eager” Sliding his hand along the zipper he unzips it a bit while his free hand slides up under your dress.

#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #y/n insert