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krirebr · 7 months

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We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

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

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

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grandkid,” you interrupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I saw.”

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

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

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

She nodded and left.

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

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

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

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

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

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

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged and shook your head.

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

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

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

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

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

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you.

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you?

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys.

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?”

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath.

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months

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Fluffcember Day 3 | Kiss me if you dare

Pairing | College student!Ransom Drysdale x Shy!College Student!Fem!Reader Word count | 1.7K Summary | Some students have decided to set up a kissing booth to raise money for your upcoming senior prom. The person in the booth is the guy you've had a crush on for a long time: Ransom Drysdale. Little do you know he's standing there with one motive only: kissing you, the woman he's been crushing on since day one.

Rating | Teen (T) Warning(s) | Mutual pining, a few mentions of anxiety/shyness. A/n | This one-shot is written for day 3 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge! As soon as I saw this prompt, Ransom was the first person to pop into my head, and I can't say I regret it for even a second 😉 Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading, and I hope you will all enjoy this as much as I did when writing it! 🎄 Events Masterlist | Kissing booth | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | ''I gotta do this more often'' | @ultimatechrisbingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: The owner

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

It's a warm spring day as you're sitting outside during lunch with some of your classmates, but you don't hear a single thing they're saying. Your gaze is constantly focused on the man you've had a crush on ever since you first laid eyes on him, and you haven't looked away since you sat down.

All your friends are discussing the upcoming senior prom and how it might not happen, but you're so lost in your daydream that you're only snapped out of it once your classmate Scarlett nearly shoves you off the bench.

"Did you even hear a word we said?!" She exclaims, and a bright red spreads over your face as you know you've been caught staring.

"I-I'm sorry," you say softly as you turn back, and when you look away, the man you were looking at looks your way, and you miss his gaze.

Scarlett rolls her eyes in response before summarizing what she and your other classmates discussed earlier.

"There's a rumor going around about a kissing booth so they can raise money for the senior prom, and I'm going to give you one guess who will be standing in it," she says with a big smile, wiggling her eyebrows.

"W-what? Are you- I mean- Really?" you say when the realization dawns on you who will be in it. Ransom Drysdale - a.k.a. the man you've been crushing on for a long time.

She confirms your suspicions, and the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, your smile almost splitting your face in half from excitement.

Your feeling doesn't last long, however, because when the feelings finally dawn on you that you have to kiss him - the one thing you've dreamt of since the first moment you crossed paths - your brain shuts down.

Your head snaps back to Ransom, and the smile you were sporting earlier vanishes. The bright red color on your face returns as he shoots a wink your way.

On the other side of the outside area of your college, Ransom is sitting with some of his friends, and he occassionally shoots glances your way because he can't keep his eyes off you.

For him, it was truly love at first sight when he saw you; he has never experienced anything like it. But deep down inside, he hopes he won't have to experience it again because he only wants you.

During the four years of your English Literature degree, you shared most classes with him, except for your minor, which you both took in a different field of expertise.

But when you two did share classes, you were usually stealing glances without the other one ever knowing. It's as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you both, leaving you wondering what the other person was thinking and feeling.

Your patience will be rewarded soon, though, and it all started with that one wink.

A few weeks have passed since then, and the days leading up to the kissing booth have slowly crept closer. Everyone in your senior year has been talking about it, and for a while, it almost felt like you were back in high school again.

''Only a few days left. Are you sure you're not going to join in on the fun?! I heard he's an amazing kisser; you shouldn't miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!'' Scarlett tells you excitedly.

In all fairness, you haven't stopped to think about it for even a second since you found out it will be him inside the booth. The one thing that's mainly stopping you is your shyness.

You've never been one to enjoy the focus in a crowd, and to have to kiss the man you've been crushing on for the longest time without ever telling him only makes your anxiety and shyness worse.

''I-I don't know,'' you tell Scarlett softly. It's not like you've never kissed a guy before, but you're afraid that if you kiss Ransom, your feelings might go overboard while he might not even care.

''Wouldn't it be weird if I kissed him? I've had a crush on him for so long, and he barely even knows I exist...'' you sigh, but Scarlett is quick to shut those ideas down.

''Girl, trust me. It won't be weird, because I know he feels the same about you! You should totally partake, and after you two might fall in love and live happily ever after!'' she tells you cheerily, but all you feel is your stomach dropping.

As much as you'd like that, you can barely even string a sentence together when talking to him, let alone do this. But once the day finally arrives, you overcome your fears and leave your comfort zone.

''Here you go,'' you tell the girl collecting the money, and you get in line together with Scarlett. Since it's another warm spring day, you're dressed in a white and black polka-dotted sundress that hugs your figure in the perfect places.

Your hair is in a ponytail with a white bow, your loose curls swaying back and forth with every step you take. The look is finished with a pair of white Converse and subtle make-up.

As the sun shines through the windows, it makes you look almost ethereal, and as soon as Ransom notices you've gotten in line, he gets very excited.

With most people in line, he gives nothing more than a quick peck before moving on, but you're both getting a little nervous when you're inching closer to the front of the line.

''I'm not sure I can do this,'' you whisper to Scarlett when there are only two more people in line before it's your turn, but she turns to you before grabbing your upper arms.

''Girl, trust me. You're going to be fine, and you can do this. It'll be worth your while, alright? And if you want, I can go first so that you can see there's absolutely nothing to worry about.''

You think about it for a few seconds before you nod in agreement, and then it's your turn. Ransom can't keep his eyes off you as he stands there, his back straight and his chest slightly puffed out.

His hair is slicked yet a little messy, and he's wearing a thin sweater today in a color that compliments his eyes perfectly. You're standing behind Scarlett, yet you can smell his cologne, making you feel a little lightheaded in the best way possible.

Scarlett gives Ransom a quick kiss before moving out of the way, and that's when the realization sinks in that it is finally your turn. You're about to kiss the man you've been crushing on since your first meeting and the only one you want to kiss for the rest of your life.

''God, look at you. You're like an Angel straight from Heaven,'' he tells you, and it makes you blush uncontrollably, and you play with your fingers to give yourself a little release from the anxiety building.

''I- uh... T-Thank you,'' you mumble before lowering your head and closing your eyes tightly to fight the tears that threaten to escape embarrassment.

''Hey, it's okay. It's just me, and I'm not going to do anything you're not okay with,'' he tells you as he lifts your chin, and you look into his deep blue eyes.

''Do you trust me?'' he asks, and you nod before letting him close the distance between you two, and what he gives you is much more than a quick peck on the lips.

His lips slot together with yours perfectly, and his hand caressed your jaw before finding its home on your cheek, cradling it before tilting his head.

His tongue slides past your lower lip for entrance, which you happily grant, and every last nerve you thought you had is melting away completely.

Your hands find their place on his chest, the taste of Biscoff cookies is faintly lingering on his tongue, and you give yourself over to every last touch and flavor of him.

The kiss ends all too soon for your liking, but when you pull away, you're biting your lip as a smile threatens to escape your lips, and Ransom can't help but smile back at you.

''I gotta do this more often,'' he whispers to you, making you giggle softly. You nod before turning to Scarlett, who is waiting, and she's even more excited than you are about what happened.

You turn back to look at Ransom, and he's giving you one more wink before turning to the next person in line, but none of the kisses will ever compare to the one he just shared with you.

Later that day, when your last class is over, Ransom calls your name as you walk out of the building, and he catches up with you.

''Can I ask something?'' he asks when he finally catches up with you, and you stop in your tracks before turning your body to him, giving him your undivided attention.

''Yeah!'' you say excitedly.

''Would it be okay if I kiss you again? I can't stop thinking about how soft your lips are, and I'd like to kiss you again if you're okay-'' is all he can say before you practically fling yourself into his arms, closing the distance between you two.

It's not like he needed to ask twice. When you pull away, you both have a healthy flush on your cheeks and a big smile.

''Want to grab some dinner?'' you offer, and Ransom happily accepts. You hook your arm into his extended one as you two search for a place to have dinner and get to know each other better.

If there's anything this day has proven to you, stepping out of your comfort zone is okay. It might get you things you would have never thought possible.

''I can't wait to do this again if you'll have me,'' Ransom asks when you're standing in front of your apartment, and you nod in response. Now that you have him, you're not planning on letting him go.

''I'd love nothing more, Ransom,'' you say before getting onto your tiptoes and placing a small, tender, and lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth that has him instantly craving more.

He's had a taste of you and is confident that he's never tasted anything as sweet as you.

#fluffcember 2023 #day 3 #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale fluff

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

Text

📖"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.

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

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Title: Edge

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Kink Prompt: Edge [Edging]

Word Count: 1,833

Summary: You and your sorority sisters go to a frat party on the old part of campus.

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Drugging, Devil Worship, Horror, Drug use, Smut, Darkfic, AU: Dark, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Minors DNI!

A/N: entry number six!! i hope you all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s the buzzing you’re aware of first, the noise reaching thin fingers in through your eardrums to poke at your subconscious. The steady, low drone breaks through the hazy gloom of unconsciousness, and you follow it back to the waking world, opening bleary eyes to stare around the room. It looks like a storage area, with furniture covered in white sheets, crates and boxes stacked in the dusty corners. There are old, tarnished looking candelabras on almost every surface, with thin white candles burning in an effort to fight back the darkness.

Sensation follows after. Sharp pleasure, almost uncomfortable in its intensity, rockets up your nerve endings burst like fireworks behind your glassy eyes. You whimper, writhing as you try to dislodge the pressure at your core.

“Welcome back, baby,” the low drawl draws you further out of your stupor, and you lick at your chapped lips as you squint around the room. Bright points of light float across your vision, dancing like motes of dust in the still, thick air. Fingers snap right next to your ear, and you wince, moaning as you try to shy away. Something hard digs into your wrists as you try to pull them down from their position above your head, and it takes your addled brain a moment to recognize the thick leather straps for what they are.

Restraints.

“W-what, what’m doin’ here?” You mumble, the words sloshing together drunkenly in your mouth. The buzzing grows louder and you huff through your teeth as warm, honeyed pleasure blooms in your addled brain. Your hips arch upward before falling back down onto the mattress underneath you. Even as your vision swims, you’re able to recognize the grinning face of the man who squats in front of you. “Ran..?”

“Hi, baby.” He’s still wearing his devil costume from earlier, the plastic red horns sticking up out of his otherwise neat and impeccable hair. Your recollection of this evening are blurry and run together like wet paint, but you can recall bits, pieces; dredging the pieces up from the murky mess of your thoughts. The memories are patchy and dull like old film, but they’re there.

You remember arriving at the party, wobbling up the stairs to the frat house in your heels, being welcomed by the butler—what fucking frat house has a butler?—and being handed the thin, silver necklace that still lays against your bare breast. “A welcoming gift,” he’d said. “Everyone gets one.” You remember leaning against the wall, your arms folded against the heavily-used one-liners and generic complements—Ransom introducing himself with a flourish, baggies of brightly colored pills held between his fingers—

“It’s better than what anyone else’ll try to sell you in this shithole. Just one, you’ll be flying all night.”

Ransom squats down beside the thin mattress, clucking his tongue at you.

“There she is,” he replies snidely as you drag your bleary eyes up to his. “I have to admit, I was getting a little impatient.” Something clicks, and the buzzing between your thighs grows in volume and intensity. You squeak, huffing through your teeth at the shocking pleasure. The vibrating wand is pressed tight against your clit, wedged there between your thighs. You whine as he changes the rhythm, the pulses further apart but no less powerful.

“H-el-p,” you cry out the syllables hoarsely as Ransom rubs at your thighs. He chuckles, easing them apart with a wide grin. His teeth look almost too sharp in the candlelight, and for a moment, his eyes look sickly, sulfur yellow instead of the clean, crystal blue you remember.

“Oh baby. I don’t think anyone’s going to hear you.” You struggle against the straps as his fingers slide through the slick between your thighs, but your feet slide weakly against the mattress, your limbs limp and uncooperative. Ransom picks up the vibrator, his eyes gleaming as he circles your entrance with it. “Everyone else is quite busy.”

Over the muffled sound of distant music and conversation, you hear something that sounds like a wail. It’s cut short, ending abruptly as Ransom clucks his tongue.

“See?” He runs his tongue across his lips almost thoughtfully before he lowers them to your temple. “Busy.” You loose a whine as you feel yourself begin to stretch around the toy, Ransom’s fingers fluttering from your swollen, sticky clit to your entrance and back again. You don’t know how long you’ve been like this, fading in and out of wakefulness as Ransom toys with you, but by the way your cunt desperately clenches around the tip of the toy, it must have been a while. He pulls it away as your stomach begins to knot, hips arching up towards the vibrator.

Your already sluggish thoughts are further muddied by the pleasure, and it’s hard for you to remember why you didn’t want it in the first place. The window of clarity offered by your adrenaline is beginning to close. Your skin is hyper-sensitive, and every nerve ending practically sings when Ransom places the vibrator back against your clit.

“Stoppit,” you say clumsily. “Ran, Ion’t wan’t—”

“Shh, shh. I don’t care.” Briefly, the shadows behind him seem to roil and swell into a colossal hulking beast with horns and a crown of black fire—“The deal’s struck, baby. All signed and sealed up nice.”

You want to argue that you don’t remember signing anything, only the words jumble together loosely in your throat and then refuse to come together at all, a stream of babble bubbling up from between your lips. Briefly, you recall stumbling after a hooded figure, a sharp pin pricking the pad of your thumb, pressing it against yellow, old parchment and leaving a dark, bloody thumbprint—

He tosses the vibrator away, and it hits the floor somewhere behind him. The respite from his onslaught is brief. You cry out as Ransom attaches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue slithering through your folds as he hums with approval.

You’re panting soon, whining and writhing as he curls his fingers against the softness of your hips. Something’s wrong, but you don’t know what, can’t quite grasp the thought as Ransom lashes your clit with his tongue.

So close, so close—

He pulls away as you crest, and the lack of sensation keeps you from falling over into bliss. You whine, tugging uselessly at your bound wrists before looking frantically at Ransom, your eyes glassy with tears.

He wipes your slick from his chin before tapping it with his index finger. “What is it?” He manages to look pleasantly irritated. “I know you can see I’m busy.” You grit your teeth as he circles your puffy, wanting entrance with a finger and then sinks it in. “Well?”

“Pl-please,” you mumble, your slurred, desperate plea louder than the muffled protests ringing in the back of your mind. Ransom rises from between your legs, and makes quick work of the red sweater and black slacks. He leaves the horns on, though, and dizzily you wonder why you can’t see the headband they’re attached to. Ransom drags his thumb across your lips before he reaches above your head, and you feel his hand play at the straps.

Even if you could think to run now, your legs wouldn’t hold you up. You reach feverishly for Ransom, and he obliges, slotting his hips between your thighs.

“You want to cum, don’t you baby?” He asks, his lips twisting snidely as he slaps his cock against your cunt. You whine, nodding eagerly. He fists it in one hand as he slides the other against your pussy, cupping it. He draws back only to push against your entrance with a groan. “If you squeeze me real good, maybe I’ll let you.”

You shudder and moan as he sinks in, the stretch both too much, and too good to stop—though you’ve no choice either way. Ransom’s breath whistles out through his lips appreciatively.

“Tii-iight,” he draws the word out into multiple syllables. “Fuck, you feel like a goddamn fist.” Ransom’s praise makes you tighten around him even further, and he curses. Finally, you feel his balls slap against you, and you choke out a strained breath, fingers scrabbling at his sturdy shoulders. You press your head back against the mattress when he pulls out and sinks back in, your mouth open in a blissful o.

His cock seems to take up every available bit of space inside you, filling you until you think you might burst. He fucks into you with slow, deep thrusts, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip as he leads you again toward the edge—only this time, he doesn’t stop as you approach. You cling to him desperately, and Ransom snarls in your ear, his fingers digging into your hip and shoulder—

“Cum.”

There is no God present to stop your descent into sinful bliss—and perhaps there never was. You are washed in warm, sticky pleasure, your body convulsing as finally you do, you cum, whining and crying. You’re a blank slate as the pleasure washes over you, dragging you down into unthinking satisfaction. It rolls over you in waves, crushing your conscious thoughts beneath it. Ransom’s hips still, and he huffs through his bared teeth as your cunt milks him dry. You can feel the scalding warmth of him against your insides.

You stare up at him blankly as his eyes go that sickly, yellow green once again, and you could swear the tongue that passes over his lips is forked.

“The deal’s just for tonight, but,” he taps you on the tip of your nose as you pant up at him. “I think I’ll keep you.” His eyes fall to the cleft between your heaving breasts. They narrow with distaste as he glares at the pendant resting there. “Take that off for me, would you sweetheart?”

No. Your fried synapses are unprepared for the vehemence and certainty of the thought. You’re not… you’re not supposed to take it off, though you can’t remember why. Dimly, you can recall snatches of instructions, repeated harshly as you struggled to stand—

“Nnnngh,” you mumble, your head rolling on your neck as you try to shake it. “No’ s’posed to.”

Ransom rolls his eyes. “Take it off.” His voice is loud, too loud, and all around you like it’s being spoken by infinite mouths. It beats uncomfortably against your skull, like it’s something you’re not meant to hear. You whine as the discordant voices grow louder and more demanding, their shrieking vibrating in your bones as you writhe—

You rip the necklace off, the thin silver chain snapping as you pull at it like a madwoman, flinging it into some unseen corner of the room while Ransom heaves a pleased sigh.

“Good girl.” He licks his lips, and again you smell something rotten, sulfur— His eyes gleam in the dark like a cat’s as he leans over you. “Now we can have some real fun.”

fin

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missvelvetsstuff · 10 months

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@supraveng , I accidentally deleted the ask and took longer than intended but here you go.

I have a request for your milestone celebration......can you write a Ransom Drysdale or Nick Fowler story? any scenario you like, just keeping his asshole persona except he's totally soft for the reader?

Traded up

Nick Fowler x Reader, past Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Ransom shattered her heart but Nick put it back together and filled it with love. What happens when they run into each other?

Warnings: swearing, a little angst

Notes: Idk how I ended up with over 700 followers but thanks for joining me for this ride.

Not exactly what you asked for but this is where my brain went. Hope you like it.

This is my first attempt to write anyone other than Bucky so I hope it doesn't suck.

Tried to keep the reader as generic as I could but she's a tall girl, like me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she walked into the ballroom, people noticed. Over 6 feet tall in heels wearing a long sleeve, boat neck, backless, black silk gown with a slit up her right thigh and 2 strings of diamonds draping down her back. Hair arranged with simple black lacquer combs, a pair of large diamond studs adorned her ears, a colorful Graff Hallucination watch graced her wrist. Simple make up focused on her cat eyes.

She had the look of old money, completely comfortable in her bespoke clothes and long, lithe body.

She looked around, searching for someone and deflated slightly when she couldn't find him. A waiter offered champagne but she waved him off and moved gracefully towards the bar where she ordered a real drink.

Ransom noticed the murmuring and looked up from the blonde he was chatting up but couldn't see who was causing the whispers. He watched the crowd part and saw a woman step up to the bar, her backless dress so low cut he was sure he could see some cleavage. His eyes roamed over her back then opened wide and doubled back when he saw the scar on her left shoulder. From the spring of a trampoline when she was a child.

His heart sped up, he wasn't ready to see her and didn't know if he ever would be. She was the one that got away. He was young and stupid and blew it. Didn't expect to ever see her again, rumour was she had moved to California. He kept watching as she sat gracefully on a barstool and her dress adjusted so he definitely could see some crack. His heart sped up.

The blonde noticed his distraction and tugged on his coat "Raaaann" she whined.

He clenched his jaw "Shut the hell up" spat through gritted teeth, without taking his eyes off of her. His heart ached and he felt hot, unsure of what to do, something he wasn't accustomed to. He decided going full Ransom playboy was the safest call. He couldn't let anyone see how badly he wanted her, how much he missed her.

Y/N sipped her drink and kept her eyes roaming the room until they fell on him. She threw the rest of her drink back and requested another, sighing. She knew there was a good chance Ransom would be here, his mother was on the board of this charity and he always liked seeing how many debutantes he could get into in one evening. She had hoped she wouldn't have to face him alone but she wasn't going to let him see how badly he hurt her. She wouldn't let him know the true effect he had on her.

She was better, stronger now and loved by someone who was willing to put in the work a relationship requires, someone loyal to her, someone who worshipped her. She just wished he was here right now.

She looked at her watch and tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the bar when she felt someone behind her.

"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in. You look extremely fuckable, as always" Ransom laughed softly.

Y/N turned around slowly, looking him over with contempt. "Hugh."

And turned back to her drink.

Ransom bristled "You know I hate when you call me that."

She shrugged. "Not my problem."

"Don't try to be coy with me. We both came here alone, we'll leave together."

She scoffed "Not if you were the last man on earth, Hugh." She paused "I'm meeting someone."

Ransom laughed "Sure you are sweetheart. Don't make up excuses, if there is someone he shouldn't keep you waiting." He looked her up and down again, licking his lips "I certainly wouldn't leave you alone here."

She laughed "Riight, you'd just run off to fuck someone else in the bathroom, then race back to me stinking of her."

She waved her left hand, showing him the large diamond "I didn't buy this for myself"

He opened his mouth to say something but she put her hand up to stop him and looked at him disdainfully "Please fuck all the way off, Hugh." She spat

Ransom was feeling irritated, the blonde had already moved on and he was horny and determined to hook up with his ex. "Look, Y/N that was the past and it only happened a couple of times. Why do you have to make such a big deal about it?"

The bartender came over to check on her and refilled her drink while Ransom glared at him. She dropped a hundred into the tip jar and Ransom shook his head "Why are you tipping the help, they get paid enough."

Y/N shook her head and chuckled "You still haven't fucked off, Hugh. You might regret that."

"Doubt it." He crowded into her space and lowered his voice "You smell delicious. We can head into the bathroom, they're pretty spacious here. I can fuck you like I used to, make you squeal and mark that pussy as mine. Maybe I'll take a taste and-" he saw her shaking her head and scoffed "Then how about a dance, for old times sake?"

He grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the dance floor, then turned her around grabbed her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. She tried to pull away when she felt his erection rubbing against her ass.

Ransom pulled back suddenly, distracted by a kerfuffle at the entrance. Y/N took the opportunity to wrench herself free of him and head for the bar but he followed her as she reclaimed her seat at the bar.

"Why the fuck is it so difficult to check my goddamn coat? Is there anyone working here with an IQ over 75? Does that valet even have his drivers license? He looks like he's 12. Unfuckingbelievable." Echoed throughout the room. She shivered at his voice.

Ransom saw a tall man, taller than him, with short dark hair and a 5 o'clock shadow, obviously expensive black suit, rolex on his wrist, walking straight towards them. He looked familiar but Ransom couldn't place him.

Y/N smiled when she heard him and looked at Ransom pointedly "Last chance."

He smirked at her "I'm good here."

She shrugged then gasped when the tall man put his hand on her bare back, his touch and his voice did things to her. His scent wrapped around her, pine and citrus, making her feel safe and aroused at the same time.

He was taller than her, even in her heels, and kissed her cheek before he spoke.

"Sorry I'm late babe, had a damn flat." He looked up at Ransom, knowing full well who he was and what he did.

"Who's your little friend?" Then offered his hand "Nick Fowler"

She smiled "Nicky, this is Hugh. I told you about him. His mother is on the board."

Nick squeezed Ransoms hand a little too tightly and looked him in the eye until Ransom looked away which made Nick smile.

Ransom tried not to wince "Ransom Drysdale, only the help call me Hugh."

Nick nodded "I know all about you Drysdale." He grinned widely "Ever find any purpose in your life beyond fucking debutantes? It'll get old eventually." He squeezed Y/N to him "Best to find a good one and settle down." She smiled up at him with hearts in her eyes.

Ransom bristled and puffed his chest out. Who the fuck Was this guy to talk down to him? He was Ransom fucking Drysdale and this guy was- his train of thought was derailed when Nick leaned down to kiss Y/N and Ransom felt his stomach drop. This guy was the one with Y/N, that's who he was.

Nick looked up after ending the kiss and looked surprised. "You're still here? She's mine and there's nothing you could do to change that so be on your way. I don't want to have to mess up your pretty face in front of all these people."

Y/N just smiled and adjusted herself in her seat. She loved when Nick was possessive and jealous because it led to the best sex, made him almost feral.

Ransom tried to puff up and regain his dominance but it was for naught, Y/N was completely absorbed with Nick, as though Ransom didn't exist. He deflated, looking at her sadly, knowing that he blew the best thing in his life and it was too late to fix it.

As Ransom walked away Y/N poked Nick in the chest "You're so mean, Nicky."

Nick smiled at her "That's because I'm surrounded by idiots and assholes." He cradled her cheek in his hand, feeling his heart speed up when she leaned into him. "Except for you, sweetheart. I'll always be good to you."

He kissed her again, a little more passionate, more needy.

When he pulled away he offered his hand "We already made our donation and the food at these things always sucks. Why don't I take you home and we'll order takeout."

He ran his hand up the slit in her dress "and I'll show you how good I can be to you."

Y/N took his hand, stood up and forced herself to walk next to him, rather than racing to his car so they could hurry home together, Ransom forgotten like yesterdays gossip.

Nick stopped suddenly and pulled her up against him before she knew what he was doing then whispered in her ear

"You know, I've heard the bathrooms here are really nice."

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x y/n #700 followers #how the hell did this happen?

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 5 months

Text

Consumation

Ransom Drysdale x Cousin Reader

The sky was pitch black and no one could see anything if it were not for the numerous lamp posts around the rental summer cottage. That is right, a heavy summer storm. The thunder and lightning caused your heart to vibrate in fear. This was ruining your summer vacation. You just graduated high school and were finally an adult. Two months and one week was all you had left till the first day of college. Your father allowed you to travel a little to this small rural village in Ukraine. You hated your city life. You needed a break. But, you also needed a chaperone. And sadly, your good for nothing cousin, Ransom was the one. Your father hated Ransom but he let him come with you anyway. Ransom traveled a lot himself, he was also a man. It would have been dangerous if Meg came along with you alone. Might as well be him. Ransom was like any cousin to you. He would bully you by calling you horrible names. Then Ransom would scare off any boys that talked to you. Like classmates and friends. You never dated before but when you tried, Ransom would ruin it for you.

You could not hate him per se, you loved him as a family member but he drove you nuts. Like what he is doing now. You had enough of him. It was only the first day in the cottage and you stood up to him and declared to go home without him. Ransom argued with you and ruined your mood.

“Where the hell are you going?” Ransom called as your back was towards him. The two of you were soaked to the bone. He followed you out of the cottage and now here you were, trying to open the iron gate. It worked easily before. Now, it will not open. You ignored him and struggled again with no luck.

“Look, I know you are mad and shit. But, you can’t let that… You can’t let that make you do something stupid.” Ransom put his hand on your shoulder and you shrugged your shoulder blade away from his grip in disgust. He would leave Meg and Jacob alone. Why was he always picking on you? Why?

He would give them sarcastic remarks but then leave them alone. Not you. You were the most well mannered in the family. Yet he treated you like scum. He made you cry so many times.

“We need each other. You can’t go off without me. I have to protect you. And you know that.” Ransom glared at your back. You finally turned around and glared right back at him. He was much taller than you so you had to turn your lovely face up at him. The said man studied your beautiful face shape and pretty eye color. The only natural source of light was the full moon. You looked like an annoyed Angel. He wanted to smile but remembered why the two of you were outside standing in the rain. It was not cold. Like a lukewarm shower. It felt nice. Would have felt better without clothes. Like one would like a comforting shower.

“You always ruin everything. I wish Meg came instead of you.” With that you tried to go back to the cottage but Ransom blocked your path. He watched in amusement at your teeny scowl.

“Okay, smart ass. I was the one who saved your sorry ass.” Ransom did save you from being mugged a few hours ago when you went to the local market for grocery shopping to cook dinner. Ransom told you not to go alone. You snuck out anyway. You tried to be an independent woman. Ransom would always undermine you.

You cringe at your failure to defend yourself.

Ransom crossed his arms and nodded. “Me. I put my life on the line to save you. And this is how you treat me? You need a wake up call. That is what you need.”

Huffing you tried to move to the side and was blocked by his height and you tried to force your way but he pushed you back causing you to look at him in fear. He was getting physical. Would he really hit you?

Frowning he continued, “We are here in the hot rain because of you. Not because of me. I did my responsibility as your cousin. And if you listened to me more, things would go right. Maybe less people would be mad at you.”

That caused you to blink and tears came out. You were happy that it was raining. Ransom seemed to have known of your real tears and you wondered how. His hard eyes softened with pity. That made you more upset with him.

“People never gave me a chance to prove myself!” You raised your voice which caused him to grimace. “ What gives you the right to-?”

“No!” He caused you to flinch and step back and he followed you. “ You have no right to say anything. You don’t even know what you are talking about. You know what? I understand though. You always like running your mouth. Even back then, you always say something. You always have something to say. So what? What now? What do you have to say now? What’s on your mind? I’d loved to know.”

You shook your head and tried to breathe quietly but you could not. He was causing you to be stressed. You peeked at his muscular chest and broad shoulders. His white shirt was now clinging to his skin and his tan body was transparent. His nipples were showing. Some reason, it made you feel weird down there. No. No. You told yourself to stop thinking like that.

“You see your problem?” Ransom continued and he was mocking you with his sarcasm. “ You only think about yourself.”

You gasped and narrowed your eyes, he mirrored you. “What did you just say?”

“That’s right. I did. I called you selfish. You got a problem with that?” He clenched his jaw. He looked as if he wanted to perform domestic violence. He never hit you before. He pushed you and grabbed you and stuff like that. To make you move to other places. Never a painful blow.

Gulping. “If you keep yelling at me. I will tell my dad on you.”

Raising his brow and looking bored he did not give a shit. “Oh? Oh, yeah? I am not scared of Walt.”

You asked him why he agreed to be your chaperone. He answered that he did it so you will not do something stupid.

“Well, you are doing a damn good job. Mmhm.” Ransom spat in menace causing you to wince in shame. Finally, you walked past him and he let you. He watched you move farther and called out.

“That’s why there are so many rumors spreading around you.” Ransom seethed and began to follow you. Since his legs were much longer than yours, he was already a few steps behind you. That made you ignore him and walk faster. “You are doing a great job. Good job, buddy.” He mimicked like a child. “I’m proud of you…” You reached the door and were about to get inside the cottage.

“Whore.” Ransom hissed. That made you freeze in place. That playboy calling you that degrading slur?

You turned around in rage. “I hope you die.”

Ransom looked as if you punched him in the nose. His forehead vein was now showing.

“What did you just say? I’m sorry. I need to hear you again. What did you just say to me?”

You nervously shook your head no and said never mind. Ransom was not having it.

“No! Don’t try to back step now! I’ve had enough of your fuckin’ mouth.” You tried to get inside the cottage but Ransom dragged you out of the doorway and led you to the front yard again. Back to square one.

“Come here.” He pushed your wrist and caused you to stumble on your feet. You felt foreboding. Something was going to happen tonight and you knew it. You kept your mouth shut. The light of the lamp post and the darkness of the night made Ransom’s face half hidden in the blanket of black. His eyes looked like a wild animal.

How did it come to this?

“Always talking. You don’t know anything. You don’t understand what you have done to me.” Gulping with anxiety, you could not understand what he meant. He was always bullying you and now he was acting as if he was the victim. What is his problem?

“Stop acting like you can do anything on your own. Because you can’t. You are a weak and spoiled brat. And that is the truth.” He smirked down at you with arrogance.

Your mouth gaped like a fish. No one ever dared to insult you like that. Not even your Nazi little brother, Jacob. Without thinking, your backhand slapped Ransom across his face. It caused his head to the side and the ring you were wearing caused blood to come out of that scratch.

You gasped at your sudden reaction. Since you hit him first, he has the right to fight back. What have you done now?

Ransom was in shock too. No one, not even his own mother ever slapped his spoiled ass. He touched his cheekbone and saw his hand smeared with little blood. You began to sob a little and step back in fear. Now what? No one can save you now.

“You just made me bleed. You fuckin’ slut!” Ransom grabbed both of your shoulders and he pushed you down on the grass floor before hovering over you. “Come here.” He grabbed your face with both hands as his legs were trapping your entire body.

“What are you going to do now?” You tried to move away and struggled and then began to scream. You accidentally touched his boner and it caused him to moan. “Oh, fuck.”

Boner? Your cousin for you? Is that what this is about? Realization hit you. Ransom was in lust with you? It made sense! He was not bullying you. He was jealous. No. No. You tried harder to escape but he was firm.

“Come here.” Ransom kissed you square in the lips. Something felt like liquid fire in the pit of your guts. Like all your intestines flew to your brain. You liked the wild feeling. Your wet clothes, the thunder became louder. It made everything more exciting and dramatic. His tongue forced his way inside your mouth. You could have bit him but did not. He tasted so good. Mint bubble gum, cigarettes, and what you assume to be liquor. A masculine bad boy. Like a playboy that he was. Now you understood what all his women saw in him. You kissed him back only a little. Ransom groaned in disappointment. He sounded starved and as if he waited for this for a long time. How long did he want you? Ransom caused you to tilt your neck back and dip your back. You kissed him hard and finally Ransom was more than satisfied.

“Oo, that’s right.” His lips were making all these smooching noises. You then ran your fingers through his wet hair and push the back of his head towards your face.

”Kiss me, dammit.” You began to sit up to access his lips for a better angle. He let you and moved back. But then snapped back and shook his head no. He stopped kissing you and gently pushed you down again. Your back was flat down on the floor.

“Fuck. Lie down.” He quickly removed his own damp clothes and tossed them aside. Sadly, he ripped your top and bra like a savage. He really waited a long time. You felt sorry for him. He seemed to have been silently suffering for a while because of you. After sucking your chest, he removed your jeans and then underwear with his teeth. He then sucked your womanhood. The rain made your entire body slippery as hell and his tongue caused you to wiggle in pleasure. Now, you were about to lose your virginity to an older man, outside in the natural part of the world, under the dark and evil sky. Raining and the sinister laugh of thunder.

It sounded as if you were in a movie. You liked it. A fantasy. Better than losing your first time in bed or a car or a normal boring place.

Ransom revealed his long and thick penis. It made you scared. It looked too big for you. “I’ll put you back in line anytime any day.” He positioned himself and was ready. “ Let me fuck you.”

Thus, it was consummated. The hidden feelings. The answers to why Ransom would always ruin your chances with other boys, his weird stares, his constant teasing. You felt stupid for not noticing. Ransom caused you to bleed heavily. He was not gentle at all. But, you liked it. It was not boring.

“Oh, yeah. There we go.” He continued thrusting inside. “Someone’s awfully quiet now. Wonder why.” It was true, you could only moan and he would kiss you again with such force. “Ransom.” You moaned for the first time. Ransom grinned and bit your lovely neck.

“Fuck. Say my name louder than that.” You did as you were told like an obedient little girl. “Come on. You are so loud when it comes to everything else. You don’t want to be loud for me?” Ransom was hissing as if he was enjoying a painful pleasure. His penis felt as it was going to pop from being squeezed so hard by you. You might actually kill him. He had seen on tv that rare cases that women would kill their sex partner during sex by accident. Their manhood would just be permanently damaged which causes death.

Not that he would mind.

“Come on, slut.” He gasped for breath. The rain caused him to swallow his words many times. “Let me hear you moan my name louder than that.” You accidently called him Hugh as if he was a stranger. That made him angry. He finally released himself and eyes lolled back in pleasure. He collapsed on top and the two of you were catching your breaths. Your air was colliding with Ransom’s. Ransom got up and sat next to you while you were still laying down. He stared at you while you looked at the full moon. The eye of God.a You could not believe what you just did. You promised your mother that you would lose your virginity on your wedding night. You failed. What have you done?

What is worse, Ransom always insults your father and he is hated by him. The worst man possible. Thanks to you, you will destroy the whole family. It is Ransom’s fault too but you could have kneed him and ran away. But, you did not. Now what?

“Come on.” He picked you up and carried you bridal style. He kicked the cottage door open and you rested your head on his bare chest. You felt ashamed of your sinful pleasure. Ransom gently laid you down in the bed of his room and not yours. He then turned on the lamp. He sat on the bed next to you. The bed dipped from his weight. He then stroked your long wet bangs. You bit your lips.

“You do not address me as Hugh.” Ransom began to dry you up with a fluffy green towel. You let him and became submissive. “Don’t you ever talk back to me ever again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ransom.”

That is how it happened. How you lost your first time to the last person you wanted. It was more than your first time. It was angry, hate, and then make up sex. You regretted touching him. Due to the future of your family. But, Ransom did not force himself on you so he was not guilty of rape. Ransom laid next to you then kissed your temple. “Go to sleep. We will talk about it tomorrow.”

Tears came out of your eyes. Ransom gently wiped it away. Thus it began, Ransom woke earlier than you and helped you bathe the next morning and took you to the doctor for a check up and pills. That was when you began your secret relationship with him and the wild ride began. Secret kisses in the hallways of family parties, him giving you a copy key to his house, him sneaking to your room to touch you again. Then there was the time you two were caught and blackmailed by someone for money, and when Harlan found out, when you tried to quit your relationship, an angry and hurt Ransom threatening you. Then, Harlan passes away leaving all his property to Ransom thus causing him to abuse his power forcing Walt to accept your relationship with him.

As for you, you were confused. You thought you loved Ransom as a sex object, because of the drama of the family. Overtime, you realized you loved him for him. Too bad it was after Nana’s death you realized it. Ransom held you close as you cried thus proving his genuine love. You apologize to Ransom for your attempts to leave him. He said he forgave you and knew you were just confused and scared.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #ransom drysdale #knives out #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #smut

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jtargaryen18 · 1 year

Text

How I Disappeared...

How I Disappeared Act 2

Masterlist

Words: 4.7k

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: Dark fic. References to murder, explicit sex, non-con, oral (m/r), kidnapping, threesomes, drugging.

Relationships: Lloyd Hansen x Reader x Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You're delivered to a house on the outskirts of Boston. Would they kill you for what you know? Or...

_________________________________

By the time Lloyd Hansen had his driver take you to a heavily wooded area on the outskirts of Boston, you knew you were going to die. Even when the elegant home with its sheer glass walls came into view, you felt sick. You mentally prepared yourself for death.

He couldn’t let you live. Not with everything you saw in Ransom Drysdale’s office.

Blinking back tears, you didn’t fight when one of his armed men pulled you out of the back of the SUV. Would they drag you out into the woods and shoot you in the back of the head? Would anyone ever find you? Know what happened to you?

But you weren’t dragged into the woods and shot. You were roughly escorted into that house with its many glass panels. You were shown to a spacious bedroom and locked in there. The same armed man stayed outside the door.

Sitting on the end of that huge bed for a few minutes, you let the tears come. Just because they hadn’t killed you yet didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. Lloyd had already taken what he wanted from you.

You didn't know exactly where you were. One of the bedroom walls was a glass panel, offering a beautiful view of the forest. That tranquil view, as the minutes ticked by, did little to calm your nerves.

You found an enormous connected bathroom. You relieved yourself, washed your hands. When you looked in the mirror, you saw a fucking wreck. The makeup you’d carefully applied was streaked and ruined from your tears. Your eyes looked haunted to you as you stared. What was left of your dress looked like it had been through a woodchipper beneath the heavy camel-colored coat.

The coat belonged to Ransom. You recognized the scent of his cologne.

You didn’t know how long Lloyd planned to keep you there or what your fate would be. There were no photos or obvious personal items in the bedroom. At first, you thought it might be empty. But as you checked the drawers of the dresser, you found belongings. Casual men’s clothing and accessories were neatly stored. The closet was filled with more formal wear and all types of shoes. It was someone’s bedroom.

Lloyd Hansen kept your panties and you hadn’t worn a bra beneath the summer dress. You found a man’s t-shirt and it was big enough to swallow you. But it would work. You showered, trying to wash Lloyd off you. Dressing in the t-shirt made you feel slightly better. Cleaner. You thought about putting the coat back on over it, but it was too warm. The dark red bathrobe hanging on the bathroom door was much lighter and more comfortable.

You’d just returned to the end of the bed, watching the woods grow dark beyond that glass wall when the door opened. The man who’d been outside your room walked in carrying a tray of food. Without speaking, he handed it to you and walked right back out.

You were hungry. The beef medallions were as delicious as they looked served with potato soup, asparagus, and a nice salad. It felt like a meal you’d be served in a Michelin-starred restaurant. There was a tall glass of water served with it along with a glass of dark red wine.

You avoided the wine until you finished your meal, telling yourself it would be better to keep a clear head. But as the night gathered outside, and you remained there alone, you changed your mind. It didn’t matter if you drank the wine or not. Even entirely sober, you had zero chance of holding your own with any of these men. Maybe the wine would dull your senses as you faced whatever end.

Within moments of finishing that glass, you did feel calmer. You felt… better. Maybe everything would be okay. You were able to put aside the anxiety and fatigue you felt from the harrowing day, just like the borrowed coat you’d removed. Your body still ached in delicate places from Lloyd’s rough treatment but even that discomfort eased.

You wouldn’t have minded having more of that.

When the door opened again, your heart lurched in hope to see Ransom Drysdale. It must have shown on your face because he smiled, making his way over to you on the bed. When he sat next to you, you threw your arms around his neck. Somehow, he found you. Was he saving you? Why had you ever been wary of him before?

Slowly, his arms closed around you. He felt warm and solid. He smelled good. He always smelled so good.

“You found me,” you whispered in the quiet of the room. His hands smoothed over your back as you held onto him.

Ransom Drysdale chuckled. “I found you.”

The son of your current boss eased back. The deep maroon of his silk tie made his blue eyes really stand out, its color very close to the bathrobe you wore.

Ransom smiled. ‘You’ve had a big day, haven’t you?”

You had. You told him all about it, being excited about your meeting with him. You explained getting there early and the dress you’d bought for the occasion.

Ransom shook his head. “How did you end up in the closet?”

The fight had started outside his office, you explained. It was loud enough that by the time the men struggling burst through the door, you’d fled into the coat closet and tried to stay quiet. You told him you’d really been too scared to pay a lot of attention to what was being said or to even think about why it was happening.

His smile faded as he listened, his long fingers toying with the hem of the bathrobe you wore. When he peeled it back to reveal your bare knee, you giggled when his fingers traced over your skin. It felt nice.

“But they found you?” Ransom asked.

You paused. Lloyd found you…

Ransom studied you, his fingers tracing a line up your inner thigh. It felt nice but…

“How did you know I was in the closet?” It just occurred to you. You didn’t mention that part in your story until after he asked you.

Ransom’s grin widened. “What did Lloyd do to you?”

Throwing his hand off you, you scooted back on the bed. Away from him. Humiliation crept in, trying to ruin your buzz.

Chuckling, Ransom stripped off the suit coat he wore and tossed it away, moving closer. “Oh, come on. You were just getting to the part of the story I was really interested in.”

Shaking your head, you realized you should be upset right now. Ransom knew you were in the closet? Why did he want to hear about that? You tried to be angry, to be scared. But the feelings were buried beneath a layer of euphoria. In a strange way, it felt like you were watching the entire scene but not actually in it.

That made no sense. You’d just had one glass of wine. Right?

“I can see you’re working really hard on an answer,” Ransom told you, moving closer. His hands went for his tie, undoing it. “It must have been good.”

How did Ransom know what happened? You inched back, the headboard behind you.

You didn’t know what was going on here. But you were starting to think…

With more energy than you thought you had, you bounded off the bed. Avoiding Ransom’s half-hearted reach, you dashed to the door. Your heart swelled in hope when the doorknob turned, and the door opened.

Without thinking your flung yourself forward, out the door. You were stunned when you collided with something hard. The deep chuckle was familiar. Arms strong as steel wrapped around you.

“Where you going, cupcake?” Lloyd asked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You put up a fight, you felt stronger. It wasn’t much. Lloyd was easily able to carry you back into that bedroom, kick the door shut with his foot. He carried you right back over to the huge bed.

Ransom’s tie hung loosely from his dress shirt, his fingers plucking open the buttons as his gaze roamed over you. “I thought you were supposed to be the scary one, Lloyd.”

“Maybe not,” was all Lloyd said as he tossed you onto the middle of that huge bed. Grabbing the end of the bathrobe, Lloyd worked at pulling it off you. You fought him, trying to hang onto it. But Lloyd moved so fast.

You also didn’t realize in your efforts, the t-shirt that was the only thing you were wearing had ridden up to your waist. Ransom’s heated gaze was on everything that shirt no longer covered. He shook his head.

“Asshole,” he grumbled at Lloyd. “Look at that stache rash.”

Lloyd laughed, standing next to the bed, and dropping the robe to the floor. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

Grabbing the hem, you pulled the shirt down over your hips.

Lloyd pulled off his shoes before climbing up on the bed after you. “Don’t be like that, cupcake. I treated you nice, didn’t I?”

You tried to scramble away from Lloyd, but he caught you, grabbing you around the waist and rolling you on your back. Easily his hands collared your wrists as he loomed over you.

“Didn’t I?” he whispered against your lips.

Lloyd’s mouth claimed yours with surprising softness, his tongue sliding between your lips to deepen the kiss. The brush of that mustache tickled as his lips danced with yours. You forgot to fight him, the tingles that kiss gave you brought back that euphoric feeling.

The bed dipped at your feet and another pair of hands slid over your thighs. You jerked in surprise, breaking the kiss. Lloyd pulled back to gaze into your eyes.

“Look at those pupils,” Lloyd mused. “How much of that shit did you give her?”

Ransom entered your field of vision, his gaze on you too.

“Just a little,” Ransom said. “To take the edge off.”

“If you need to slip a girl something to take the edge off,” Lloyd taunted him, “how good could you be?”

Ransom shot him a glare.

“What I do can’t be taught,” Lloyd assured him. Turning his attention to you, Lloyd grinned. “What do you think, cupcake? Want to see what he can do?”

Someone, you didn’t know who, was caressing your thighs. That felt nice, didn’t it?

But he was the son of your boss, Mrs. Drysdale. Yeah, you remembered Lloyd telling you what Ransom wanted out of the meeting. Deep down, you knew Ransom wasn’t helping you to be kind.

There was also the matter of what you saw while you were in the closet. Fear sharp enough to pierce the pleasant bubble you were in rose fast.

“What happens after?” Your gaze was on Ransom now. You told him everything.

Ransom stretched out next to you, propping his head on one hand as the other smoothed up your inner thigh, his fingers sliding into the heated cove between them. His touch was light, his fingers sliding around those swollen outer petals.

“That depends on you.” A smile played about Ransom’s lips as his fingers explored you. “You going to be a good girl for us?”

Lloyd held your wrists to the bed while your foggy mind scrambled around those words. His grip was firm but didn’t hurt.

Us? Did he mean…

Amusement lit up Ransom’s eyes when you finally grasped what he meant. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Two men at once?”

Your thighs clenched around his seeking hand like you could stop him. You tensed up. Your body was still sore from what Lloyd did to you earlier. And they both wanted to… Now?

“I’m a… little sore,” you said quietly, humiliation burning you from the inside out.

Again, Ransom glared at Lloyd. “Can’t think why.”

“We’ll start slow,” Lloyd explained. “Work up to it.”

Worry still gnawed at you but at least no one had talked about killing you yet.

Lloyd’s hands tightened around your wrists, getting your attention. “You be good for me like you were earlier, and we’ll treat you nice. Make one move I don’t like, and you won’t enjoy this very much, cupcake. You understand?”

You didn’t hesitate to nod. You remembered hearing that man’s screams from the closet. You didn’t want to think what he could do to you. If it meant you would live and they wouldn’t hurt you, you’d do what they wanted.

“See how easy that was?” Lloyd released your wrists. “Now, climb off the bed and sit on the floor. On your knees.”

Scooting past them to the side of the bed, you did as you were told. Climbing off the bed, you lowered yourself onto the soft carpeting, on your knees.

Ransom grinned at you. “I like this idea.”

As he got off the bed, he pulled his dress shirt free of his slacks, but didn’t remove it. He approached and stopped right in front of you. His hands worked to open the fine leather belt, the front of his slacks. He wore nothing beneath, the scent of him musky and warm as he took his cock in hand, stroking it.

“You know what to do,” Ransom told you, pointing it at your mouth.

“Remember what I said,” Lloyd warned, standing somewhere behind you now.

Oh, you wouldn’t forget.

You pressed a kiss to the swollen head of Ransom’s cock, liking how warm and soft it was. You did it again, swiping at it with your tongue this time, tasting the salt of his skin. You were careful in wrapping your lips around the head of him, keeping your teeth away.

“That’s it,” Ransom encouraged you, “get me wet.”

Carefully, you brought your hand up to replace his and he allowed it. You teased him with your tongue, working him further into your mouth carefully, working the base with your hand. When his fingers slid into your hair, you sped up a little. By the time you’d worked most of him into your mouth, his hands on your head were guiding your movements.

“That feels nice, baby,” Ransom’s voice sounded a little winded. “Just a little bit more.”

Ransom started fucking your face, the head of him hitting the back of your throat. You gagged and sputtered but you kept your mouth open, kept your lips wrapped around your teeth. A chorus of guttural moans came from Ransom as he sped up. But his thrusts weren’t too hard. He wasn’t trying to choke you.

You felt Lloyd sitting on the floor behind you, pressing up against your back. Large hands slid around your body as you drooled all over Ransom’s cock. Lloyd’s hands played with your breasts, the only barrier between them and his hands was the thin t-shirt you wore.

“You’re doing so well,” Lloyd purred in your ear while Ransom kept thrusting himself between your lips. “It looks like you’re really good at that.”

His voice made you shiver as his hands moved down your body. His rough hands yanked up the hem of your t-shirt before his fingers delved into your folds. The slightest tinge of soreness had you jerking to his touch.

The move allowed Ransom just a tiny bit further into your throat. His cry above you was a gorgeous sound.

“This is working you up, isn’t it?” Lloyd whispered, his fingers sliding easily over your clit, teasing that throbbing nub. “You enjoy having a cock in your mouth. Cupcake, you are such a surprise.”

Ransom abruptly pulled back from you, leaving you staring up at him with your mouth open. Impatiently, he dropped onto the floor with you, grabbing you and facing you away from him. You were on all fours as Ransom positioned himself behind you, roughly beginning to push into you.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice was pure warning. “Easy.”

When you looked up at the man who’d claimed you earlier, you saw he’d stripped off his shirt. As Ransom worked his cock into you, a bit more carefully than he’d started out, your gaze took in Lloyd’s heavily muscled torso, littered with scars and tattoos.

With a careful hand at your jaw, Lloyd urged you to tip your face up, to meet his gaze. And his eyes showed surprising concern.

“Okay?” he asked in a low voice as Ransom slid in as far as he could go, making you gasp.

You focused on breathing as Ransom started thrusting, his grip on your hips tight. He wasn’t as wide as Lloyd, but he was longer, spearing into you with enthusiasm. When you focused again on Lloyd, you managed a nod.

Getting down on your level, Lloyd kissed you again while you were being railed by Ransom. The careful dance of his lips was a contrast to the way Ransom feverishly went at you. It took your breath away for long seconds.

When the kiss ended, Lloyd rose above you. His hands opened his slacks and as Ransom had done, he took himself out and pointed himself at your lips. His voice was a deep rumble above you.

“Show me how good you are,” Lloyd bid you.

You did your best. You tried to take him slowly, but it wasn’t easy with Ransom’s thrusts pushing you forward. Lloyd slid towards the back of your throat before you were ready. But you made it work, teasing him with your tongue as he slid back and forth between your lips. One of his hands anchored in your hair as they pushed and pulled you between them in an erotic dance.

“Fuck,” Ransom muttered. “Someone likes it on the spit…” Leaning over your back, Ransom’s lips were at your ear. “You like this? Taking both of us from both ends?”

His chuckle at the way your body pulsed at his words lit you up in humiliation. You shouldn’t be so excited, you knew. You were trying to make them happy. Trying to stay alive. Every emotion that should be on the surface though was pushed down, buried. Fear, humiliation, dignity – all of them were locked away inside you, trapped by a layer of demand and euphoria. The only emotion that connected it all was guilt. And tonight, guilt was like that drunk friend who had no business giving you advice.

When Ransom sped up, his grip taking on an edge of pain, you cringed because you knew he was close. At the last second, he pulled out, his come drizzling over your ass. Lloyd’s invasion of your mouth continued. Ransom’s cries were breathy, filling the room as he rode out his release.

While your boss’s son sat on the floor watching, his breath ragged, Lloyd continued in measured movements. The hand gripping your hair slid down the back of your head, down your back to your ass. You gasped around him when his fingers slid down into the wet flesh Ransom vacated.

The sobbing sound you pulled from Lloyd made you happy.

Pulling himself off the floor, Ransom tucked himself back into his slacks and stumbled for the bedroom door.

“M’getting a drink,” he told you. “Want anything?”

“Vodka, neat,” Lloyd managed as you continued taking him with your mouth.

The minute the door was closed, Lloyd pulled back, looking way too pleased with the line of drool connecting your lower lip to the swollen head of his cock.

“He didn’t take very good care of you, now did he?” Lloyd asked.

You froze. What did he mean?

Grabbing your chin, he made you look up at him again. “You want to come, don’t you?”

What do I say to that?

No.

“Yes,” you whispered.

His lips curved beneath that mustache. His hands moved fast as they grabbed your t-shirt and stripped it off you. He used it to wipe off Ransom’s spend and tossed it away.

Then, as if you weighed nothing, Lloyd caught you about the waist and pulled you over him. Worked up as you were, you slid down easily enough on his erection. Your thighs wrapped around his slim hips as he anchored you both on his knees on the carpet.

You were chest to chest, your breasts crushed into his solid wall of muscle, with his hands holding your ass. You’d just managed to wrap your arms around his neck, your wet channel clamping around his cock, when he stilled. He bit your lower lip to get your attention.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

Lloyd didn’t wait for an answer. His hands guided you to move up and down on him. It was closer to the truth to say he was bouncing you up and down on his cock. You liked how he felt better than Ransom, the way he stretched your inner walls as he thrust up into your core. You liked watching all those muscles work as he moved you just how he wanted. You liked the way his sweat-slick skin felt under your fingers, the way his mustache bristled against your nipples before his lips and tongue made it better.

Something he did with his teeth and tongue at your breasts had you breaking out in a sweat as he fucked you. You were clamping around him, whimpering as you tried to move with him. Lloyd noticed, grinning around one of your nipples.

“Ready to come for me, beautiful?” Lloyd asked, his heated blue eyes lit up in lust as he watched you.

You nodded. You were beyond speech at this point.

“You didn’t come for Ransom,” he stretched up to murmur in your ear. “It’s my dick you want, isn’t it?”

How did you answer that? You shouldn’t want either one of them.

“Didn’t you?” Lloyd’s thrusts sped up, hitting harder. It took your breath away, sensations swelling in you.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Lloyd doubled down on everything he was doing, and your vision was fading to black as you worked with him, fighting for your release.

“Please,” you managed.

“Please what?”

Your mind scrambled as he fucked you hard now. It was all you could do to hang on, your thighs shaking around him as you pushed down with each upward thrust. What? What did he want you to say?

“Please, Lloyd,” you remembered. “I need to come… so bad.”

The smile that earned you had your heart squeezing in your chest. Lloyd worked you hard on his cock until all that sensation racing through your veins pushed you off the cliff. As the orgasm rocked you, you held onto him, your pussy grabbing him in need. Pressing your face into his neck, your cries were muffled as you worked together, harder and faster.

Lloyd didn’t try to keep quiet as he held on one hard thrust, rutting into you as he came. His eyes were closed as he unloaded into you, his hands holding you tightly in place. His heartbeat was solid and strong against yours as he held you there against him, his breath rushing with yours.

You didn’t expect Lloyd to press a kiss on your forehead. It startled you when he rose from the floor with you and carried you back to the bed. Pulling back the covers, he eased you in and covered you up.

Your sweat-covered skin was cooling, and your muscles ached. The fine linens felt nice against your skin as Lloyd leaned down to press another kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Stay here,” he told you, his eyes searching yours. “I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

Nodding, you said, “Thank you.”

You didn’t know what to do with the look he cut you before pulling his slacks back up, putting himself away as his breathing slowed. Was that kindness?

What, if anything, did it mean for your future?

“Hey.” Lloyd studied you for a moment. “Rest. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You didn't know what to believe. But you were exhausted on every level and your body ached. You watched him pull on his discarded shirt and stroll out of the room, walking like he owned the world. He turned out the overhead light as he did.

You found comfort in that darkness. Sleep found you.

***

Lloyd found Ransom sprawled on the couch in his living room, flipping through streaming services to find something to watch. The glass of vodka Lloyd requested waited on the coffee table in front of him. Taking a seat on the plush chair next to the couch, he slowly reached for the drink.

Ransom's gaze didn't leave the screen. "You want something."

It wasn't a question. The man he collaborated with often liked to think he could read Lloyd much better than he actually could. Most of the time. This time, Ransom was right. He did want something and he didn't say anything to deny it.

When those cool blue eyes turned on him, Ransom said, "You want the girl."

The vodka burned its way to his stomach and Lloyd grinned. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that she was delivered to the guest room you use when you stay here," Ransom spoke slowly. "She wasn't waiting in my room."

"You like to sleep alone," Lloyd pointed out.

And that wasn't the way Ransom expected the evening to go. It would have gone that way. But Lloyd had decided to fuck with him by having her. What he hadn't counted on was how sweet she was, how good she felt. The way she tasted...

Her doe-eyed innocence and submissiveness were just the icing on top of the perfect little cupcake.

To Ransom, she was just another girl to fill his bed and entertain him for a night or two. Sure, she worked for his mother but that was easily fixed. No one else would really miss her.

There was also the issue of what she may have seen or heard. That's where things got a little complicated with Ransom. The man could be callous in dealing with what he considered "minor problems." That put the girl in his bed at risk. It also meant he was going to have to cash in a favor to protect her.

And Lloyd would expect something from her for that sacrifice. Just the thought of all the ways she could pay him back had him getting hard again.

"I'm not done with her." Ransom turned his attention back to the screen.

Lloyd accepted that. He'd guessed as much.

"What are your plans for her when you are?" Lloyd was blunt.

Ransom finished the beer in his hand. "As far as I'm concerned, she just needs to leave a voicemail to quit her job at my mother's real estate firm. I threaten her with video footage and she disappears from my life.

That got his attention. Ransom didn't like loose ends. That meant he'd enjoyed her as much as Lloyd had or he felt something for her. Either scenario gave him a rare bout of jealousy.

"Why do you want her?" Ransom asked. "She's not exactly your type."

Lloyd didn't have an answer at the moment. It didn't happen often. He just knew he wasn't done with her either. And he was conflicted about it. Ransom didn't intend to have her killed. Still, Lloyd didn't like the idea of her being vulnerable and alone in a dangerous world after they both got what they wanted from her.

Not when she was so malleable, so grateful.

"You owe me for dealing with Ryan," Lloyd said.

Ransom's brows rose as his gaze returned to him. "All you want for that is a piece of ass?"

Taking care of his "Ryan problem" was a big deal. And Lloyd had already decided on some level that she was more than a piece of ass. Still, he nodded.

Seeming to consider it for a moment, Ransom finally nodded. "I want another go at her. Alone."

Lloyd grinned. "No."

"Afraid she'll be ruined for you when I give her back to you?"

Not at all.

"Just making sure you don't drug her up again." Lloyd didn't want to examine any other reasons why he didn't want to leave her alone with the other man. Even if he was just there to watch, he would be there.

"Fine." Ransom sighed and went back to watching his game. "Tomorrow."

Draining his glass, Lloyd placed it back on the table. Rising, he headed back to the guest room. To her.

He had plans to make.

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#How I Disappeared...#Ransom Drysdale #Lloyd Hansen

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wiypt-writes · 1 year

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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

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crazyunsexycool · 1 month

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Hey Val, how are you doing?

I was just wondering if you would be able to give us a little taster of anything you've written but not yet posted? I'm almost done binging all your writing 😢😢

🩷🩷🩷🩷

First of all, thank you for your support!!

Here is what I’ll do, I’ll post a few sneak peeks of Wips for either chapters or one shots I’m writing!

My Little Love:

“What do you say, Henry, should you have matching braids like your sister?” You joke as you comb through his hair.

“Mama.” He giggles. “No. I want my hair down.”

“Oh, ok. If you change your mind though, I can totally braid it.”

He laughs but pulls away while Lottie begs him to get braids.

“We’ll get him next time, sweet Angel.”

“Next time, mama.”

“Alright, time for shoes.”

You grab Lottie and head toward her room when you bump into Bucky who was dressed and ready to go.

“What is this about braiding Henry’s hair?” He was already giving you a suspicious look but the corners of his mouth were upturned.

“You next dada.”

Life, love and dancing with death

Civil War!Bucky Barnes x reader

A few hours later, in the middle of the night while you’re watching the world pass by your window you hear screaming. It’s muffled but you hear it. It dawns on you that it’s from the apartment below yours. Bucky was in trouble. Or so you thought, so you rush down stairs and knock on his door until it swings open. The sight before you is devastating. Bucky’s eyes were wide and distant, like he was lost in his memories. Sweat kept some of his hair clinging to his forehead and overall he looked terrified.

“James?” You called softly. “Is everything ok?”

He shook his head, eyes filled with unshed tears.

“What can I do?”

“Can- can I f-feel you?” He stuttered through the question.

“I’m here.” You reached your hand out and he took it before pulling you into his apartment.

Bucky doesn’t just hold you, no he clings to you. Desperate to wake up from his nightmares, to realize that he isn’t strapped to that chair anymore. You don’t know any of that of course and he isn’t going to tell you either. Instead he does something he hasn’t done in 70 years.

He kisses a pretty girl.

This is how it feels

Modern Prince!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

It was like breathing for the first time. Like seeing color in its true vibrant form. Hugh Ransom Drysdale, disgraced Prince, came to life the moment he saw you across the ballroom.

Ethereal and the picture of grace. A beauty beyond compare. As all royals there was an air of sadness that you masked poorly but no one seemed to notice or care. But Ransom saw it, he felt it in his soul. He had learned a long time ago that no one cared, especially when you screwed up and tore the family’s reputation to shreds.

If no one cared why should he? That was a lesson Ransom took to heart. It’s how he became the black sheep of the royal family and was practically a pariah. He was tolerated because his grandfather was King. He used his status as Prince to bed any woman he chose including the wives of foreign noblemen. At one point a war was almost started and even then Ransom didn’t seem to care.

Ransom watched as you were paraded around the ballroom by different eligible bachelors. It was clear that your father was using you as a bargaining chip and you knew it.

Love in times of war part 2

“I knew it was a bad idea to let her go out so soon.” Steve’s voice reached you but it was so hard to open your eyes.

“Too soon? Steve, she's been here for two months. You can’t keep her locked up.”

That was Bucky. They were having a whispered argument.

“It’s not about keeping her locked up. It’s about keeping her safe. She’s still the only person that knows the formula for the serum. Every agency and country in the world is going to come after her.”

“Steve?” You asked. Everything was blurry, all you could make out was shapes moving around and that caused you to panic. “Steve?”

“I’m right here. It’s ok.”

“I can’t see.”

“I know, it’s a side effect from the smoke grenades and the hit you took but it will clear up.” He reassured you while taking your hand. You breathed a sigh of relief at having him close.

“What happened?”

Oh Baby (might turn this into a 2part or mini series)

Single dad! Bucky x Single mom!Reader

Flustered, unsure and overwhelmed did not begin to cover the emotions Bucky was feeling as he walked into the room full of moms. A newborn strapped into the stroller and a backpack full of supplies strapped to his back. His long hair was pulled into a messy bun which allowed everyone to see how exhausted he looked.

“May I help you?” The instructor asked as she got closer to him.

“This is the class for parents with newborns, right?”

“Yes it is. Is your wife or girlfriend joining us?” The smile the instructor had plastered on her face was fake.

“No. I saw online that anyone could join. I have a newborn and I don’t really know what I’m doing. Thought I could give the class a try.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously as he looked around the room.

Almost everyone had a look of disapproval on their face which only served to make Bucky feel worse. He was out of his depth having to care for a newborn.

“Well it says that but this is really a mommy and me class.”

“Well the ad said anyone can join so where can I sit?” Bucky said with more confidence.

The instructor gave an exasperated sigh and opened her mouth to ask him to leave.

“There’s a free spot here.”

#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers #sneak peek #Bucky x reader #Steve rogers x reader

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ronearoundblindly · 6 months

Text

Fire & Ice (a RoAR drabble)

Flufftober Day 12, Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see series)

I blame @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory and @brandycranby for encouraging HughSaison. This is fairly loosely related to the prompt but there are a bunch of temperature references/illusions. 🤷🏻‍♀️Hey, I did my best. -> While I'm at it, does anyone want to own up (privately) to being the person who first asked about rich!Reader over a year ago??? I always wonder if that anon is still reading 🥹

Uhhh, angst with a fluffy ending... yeah, yeah, Ro loves writing arguments, we get it.

Warnings: If you've never read my Ransom before, beware. He curses like an angry sailor, inside and outside of his brain. Plus super suggestive language/mentions of sex. LOTS of dialogue. Zero editing. MINORS DNI. WC 1.8k

He cannot fucking believe it's come to this.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snips. “You cannot use a veto. You put me in charge.”

He watches you walk calmly, put away a dish calmly, sit at his couch calmly.

"I've made my decision, and that's final."

"Fuck you." Ran means it, but in his own way. "You said I could choose--"

"Not that," you say, so calmly, too fucking calmly for someone who managed to turn Ransom Drysdale into this, this thing that cares about something so petty for all the wrong--or just different--reasons.

He stretches to his full height and sucks on his tongue for a moment.

You continue to scroll through your phone.

He never thought he’d get married but he’s always loved a good party. Since the ring's not flashy, he wants you in the tiara. He hasn’t given you the ring yet either because…well, because it’s been less than a year and you practically live on the other side of the planet. Call him old-fashioned, but Ransom wants to be home for all the big things. He can plan a damn party though—and the look to match— whenever the hell he wants and for however long he wants.

At length in the quiet, he asks, "why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous, and I'm saying 'no.' Veto."

"You don't get vetoes for--" Ran smothers his frustration, but barely. "Does this have to do with...money? Because you know I’m not talking millions of dollars in real diamonds or something.” But, ya know, he’s expecting a couple hundred thou between colored and semi-precious stones, plus the setting in—would gold or platinum work best for your skin? Grandma Thrombey’s ring is made of yellow gold. Ran guesses he should match that.

The false calm never lifts from you.

Eyes icy and blank, you look at him while his plans keep running amuck. "No."

Two letters. One word. He fucking hates it.

"You'll look beautiful," he yells in annoyance.

The phone drops on the leather couch. "I'm not wearing a crown to be married in. It'll look pretentious, ostentatious. I won't do it and that's that."

"It's a tiara," Ran corrects, "and with a veil, it's near invisible. It’ll include the wedding colors with the stones."

"No."

His blood starts to boil. Don't say it, don't say it, he thinks fleetingly but fails.

"Says the woman with shit taste."

Slowly, calmly, coldly, you walk over to him, stretching to your full height, holding his gaze. You’re wearing one of his sweaters again and nothing else. That’s his favorite look, but only for him.

It’s winter outside, the heater turned up so that your naked skin stays comfortable. You stay comfortably exposed all the time, when he has his way. Comfort is king in Ran’s house.

Despite being exposed though, he can see how you've made it so far in business—in life—even with shitty taste. Your poker face rivals champions, and you are stalwart in your dedication. There's a hard (and hardening) edge to your simple, sly grin.

You take a deep breath in, a whiff of him, a sample for assessment.

"Poor--" you sigh "--boy."

His teeth grind together, jaw tight as a vice. How dare you.

Ran's petty, spiteful even when he tries so damn hard to keep it together, and the wound of disinheritance is still fresh enough he cannot abide that sting.

"Burn in hell."

You don’t take the bait and simply cock your head, waiting for his guilty meltdown. So far, he does this at least once a week, sometimes multiple times a day. It bothers you, you’ve told him, that he questions everything instantly, that he can’t trust you or your feelings or his surroundings, that he panics over the idea of ever having to get a job, but it’s also great ammunition against a man-child.

The grin never leaves your lips. You're in fine fighting form tonight. Ran shouldn't have tangoed.

"Go fuck some bimbo's ass."

Oh.

Oh, you bitch.

That's low.

Ransom's face contorts. "It was one time," he gripes, "and we weren't even dating."

Your palm lies flat against his chest. "We'd slept together several times, and you even volunteered for me by then so..."

Ran grabs your hips and brings you close, avoiding your gaze while hoping you keep looking at him, cooling him down, evening his hot temper.

"Of course," you add casually, "that wasn't the first time you did that, was it?"

This is where it gets tricky for him. Ran never had a real relationship before you--not even his 'bond' with his parents compares--but old habits die hard.

He shoves at your hips, spinning you two until your back hits the glass block window between the house and the bare woods outside.

His head ducks to mirror the angle of yours. "Doesn't have to be the last either."

"Hugh," you warn, as threatening as wind across his cheek.

He's gonna regret this. He knows he will, but curiosity gets the better of him.

"Tell me. Tell me why you don't want to wear something gorgeous and fancy for an occasion where you are meant to be gorgeous and fancy."

The turn in your expression is pronounced. He didn't expect you to be more alarmed by his caring than his come-ons.

"Bad form," you finally admit. "Some rich bitch thinks she's a princess. Looks really bad."

"You are rich. You are a--"

"Careful..."

"--I'm saying 'princess.' Calm down," he says to the perfectly, eerily calm woman in his arms. "Would you just fucking let me compliment you?"

Ran fiddles with some hair around your ear, noting proudly how your eyes droop shut slightly at the smallest touch from him. He likes that you respond to him, his distance, his fury, his doubt, and his passion. You make feeling okay. You are his safe space since you've seen him at his lowest.

You see him.

There's very few things in life that make more sense to Ransom than his wife will be the one who sees him and he lets see him. Everyone else and everything else can piss off.

God, he fucking hates that he loves you so much. Why won’t you just wear the fucking crown? You’ve earned it; you’re the one who conquered his demons, not Ran.

He could buy it anyway, have your veil sown straight on it, not give you the chance to argue, or he could take you out to shop, put one in your hands, knock it onto the floor, and claim ‘you break it, you bought it.’ Problem solved, but he’s a petty bitch.

He tucks the edge of his lip into his cheek.

He should be less of a petty bitch.

“What do you want?” Ran asks. “What’s it gonna take?”

He keeps his sharp eyes locked to yours, watching understanding shrink your once-dilating pupils

Change in demeanor. “Oh my god.”

Aaaand there’s the regret. “Don’t make a big deal—“

“HOLY SHIT.”

“It’s not—I’m just—“

“Hugh Fucking Drysdale?! Trying to compromise??? I’ve see it all now.”

“Stop,” he whines, dropping his head to your squirming chest.

“Wait—” you whip out of his arms and hustle back to the couch, retrieving your phone “—do it again.”

He’s too lost in staring up the sweater as you bend over to notice right away.

“Are you filming me?” Disgusting. Childish. Petty, just like him. Maybe he’s had more influence on you than he realized.

“Your face is priceless.”

“Give me that.” Ran doesn’t put much effort into reaching the phone. He would rather win for his cause. “Seriously, what do you want?”

The arm held up falls lax. He has a clear view of your home screen, so you weren’t taking a video. You just wanted to tease him. Fuck, you love to tease him.

Dramatically, your hand frames your chin in thought. “Well, I don’t want something that extravagant to go to waste, but it won’t go with every outfit…”

“No, not with colored stones,” Ran says absently. He guesses you want to get more use out of it. Gross.

“Okay, my compromise is whenever I wear it, you treat me like a princess, or perhaps, your queen.”

“Uh, sure,” he snorts. You already get treated better than any woman he’s ever known…by him, of course. He’s vaguely aware that some people do even more than the bare minimum, but those are other people. Baby steps.

“If that tiara is on my head, Hugh, you become a perfect and adoring gentleman.”

Ran wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“You heard me. That’s my compromise. Dress me that way and you have to treat me like royalty.”

“Like…” He rushes forward to sweep you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and thrusting his hips. “Princess Pussy?”

“Ran. Ew, no.”

“Queen Cunt?” Heh, he chuckles, King Comfort and Queen Cunt. No, don’t say that out loud.

You gag slightly. “Super not what I meant.”

“You’re already going to marry me, but you want me to worship you? No fucking way.” Ransom flat-out laughs.

“How did you get worship out of ‘treat me nicely?’” Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling your faces closer.

He exaggerates a groan. “I don’t know. That’s asking a lot.”

“Oh, right,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Just keep on being shitty…even to your future wife. What could possibly go wrong?”

He huffs.

Ran is passionate about making you look good, not just because you are on his arm. Sure, he probably focuses on all the wrong things—all the selfish things,—but you easily think of the big picture and completely forget about yourself.

That’s already a balance. That’s already a big compromise.

And yet…

Ran’s looking at your face and admiring your playfulness when he could be ordering you to unzip his pants. He’s more excited to see you decked out pretty things than he is to say he dressed you. He’s concerned with how you refuse to spend money for you even though you’ve put no restrictions on him. That’s…that’s just a different Ransom Drysdale. That’s a man he wouldn’t recognize if he weren’t watching his reflection in your eyes.

Ran pecks a gentle kiss to your waiting lips.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, his arms snaking tighter over your back and his fingers plunging into your hair. He keeps you close, noses touching, hot breath mingling. “Shh, shhh.”

He hears the faintest whine escape you, and he just can’t help himself. He’s a petty bitch.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll fuck your ass.”

🙈🙇🏻‍♀️😝

sorry not sorry.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @starkleila

[Main Masterlist; The Root of All Ransom Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#the root of all ransom #ransom drysdale x you #flufftober 2023 #day 12 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut #kinda

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brandycranby · 10 months

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asian reader moodboard series masterlist

While my inbox is always open for general writing and moodboard requests, this series is a special project dear to my heart. I see very little Asian representation in self-insert community spaces and personally, it hurts a lot. But what we make is what we see so here I am.

Currently, I make moodboards for mostly C. Evans characters, Bucky Barnes, and some other S. Stan characters. Feel free to inquire in my inbox. I do not do RPF (real person fiction).

You can be very specific in your reader request (such as Tamil!Reader, Shanghainese!Reader, Khmer!Reader) or more general (EA!Reader, Desi!Reader, SEA!Reader) but please include the aesthetic/vibe/prompt/colors you want as well. You're very welcome to specify that you want a darker model!! (FUCK COLORISM)

Anyone can request and anyone can reblog. In fact, please do or else no one will ever know about these 🥹

*The pictures I use are not mine, all are found on Pinterest*

A Morning in Mumbai - Bucky Barnes x Desi!Reader, for @emyearns (June 9th, 2021)

These Idle Hours - Ransom Drysdale x East Asian!Reader; light academia (December 17th, 2021)

Where the Green Grass Grows - Jake Jensen x Korean!Reader, for @babyjakes; cottagecore (July 3rd, 2023)

Glitter on Your Lips - Robert "Mr. Freezy" Pronge x Desi!Reader, for @astrorogers; 80s disco (September 1st, 2023)

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m. masterlist

#asian reader moodboard series #asian representation #moodboards #ce characters #chris evans #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #more to come!!

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fortheloveoffanfic · 2 years

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Just Like Love

Ransom Drysdale x reader

Masterlists Author's Note: This story explores themes of violence, dubious consent, stalking as well as other dark themes, please read the warnings and proceed at your own risk. Summary: For going on one year, Y/n has served as Ransom's maid, though, as the pair seek to discover each other's dark secrets and well maintained facades unravel, the real reasons for Y/n's continued employment comes to light

Prologue

Y/n is Ransom's longest serving maid, and the reason for that is embedded in well kept secrets......on both sides. Warnings: Sexual harassment

Working for Ransom meant following three simple rules;

Never touch the keys to the Beamer.

Never be seen out of ‘uniform’ out of working hours.

Never, ever speak to his guests- the help should never be heard.

Despite his rules which she absolutely abhorred- she actually didn’t care about Hugh’s precious car but the “uniform” had only ever been loosely defined as a black skirt and whatever blouse she wanted while his friends were always as insufferable as he was - Y/n had been her boss’ longest employee. Arguably, the record wasn’t very hard to beat; before she’d been hired, the last three maids hadn’t stuck around for longer than a handful of months. Y/n though, she’d been around for a year and didn’t have any plans on leaving, at least, not until she got everything that she needed.

Besides, being a maid for Ransom, or Hugh as he preferred to be called, at least by the staff, wasn’t all bad. He was surprisingly tidy for a rich brat and it was usually easy to stay out of his way because he was hardly ever home. Y/n didn’t even know where he went all day, as far as she knew, he was unemployed and had recently evaded jail time for murder by the skin of his teeth- the irksome privilege of grossly wealthy parents. Even without his grandfather’s money, his mother had enough resources and influence to sway the outcome of his case.

Alas, despite his and his parents muddled morals, Ransom was the perfect boss; religiously left her check on the coffee table in an envelope with her name on it on the twenty-fifth of every month, knew how a laundry hamper worked, and always put his dishes in the washer. Would it have killed him to be more polite and not undress her with his eyes when they did speak? Maybe. Could she ignore the fact that he was an A grade, womanizing jerk for the sake of some information and a paycheck? Definitely.

That day, she’d only brought in the groceries about forty minutes earlier and was almost through with packing them away, having completed most of the task on muscle memory. It was still early, no later than ten in the morning, and when she’d left a couple hours earlier, Ransom had still been asleep, and by the time she’d returned, Y/n had assumed he’d left for his routine run before hitting his home gym. The frozens and dairy goods had been stowed in the fridge, cereals, rice and flour had been taken to their designated spaces in the walk-in pantry, cleaning supplies had been packed neatly into the cupboard under the sink and the only thing left to do included washing and putting away fresh produce.

Slipping into absent thought, Y/n rinsed everything off and was about to start de-harting and chopping brightly colored bell peppers when, through the open double doorway, dressed in a sweat soaked gray t-shirt and low riding sweatpants, Ransom sauntered into the kitchen clearly fresh off his run. Upon entry, he didn’t trouble himself with removing his earbuds- or pleasantries- before heading to the integrated refrigerator for a bottle of water. Y/n didn’t attempt to be polite either, she didn’t even stop what she was doing to get him coffee, instead she carried on with her task, sharpened knife audibly slicing through the bright yellow pepper and hitting the wooden board.

“I’m gonna need you to work late tonight,” he began abruptly after setting the bottle down and heading over to the espresso machine. Suppressing a sigh, Y/n rolled her eyes while remaining wordless so Ransom could continue, “And you need to cook something- are you even listening?”

Locking her jaw, Y/n attempted to swallow her irritation before responding, “Yes, Hugh.”

“Fucking rude,” he muttered below breath, and in that moment, she retracted her earlier thought; Ransom was actually a pain to work for. Long hours three or four days a week, serving his chauvinistic, overgrown, frat boy friends while dressed like she was working at Hooters and acting as a sounding board for his bad manners.

And she could feel him staring at her ass.

“Make something nice,” he carried on, “Salmon, do salmon.” Great, now she’d have to go back to the store because who the hell just buys salmon?

“Salmon and?” Y/n suspired, sliding the rest of the bell peppers into a glass container.

“Salmon and what?” Ransom probed with a scoff, sliding his mug out from under the machine.

Inhaling deeply, Y/n snapped the lid onto the bowl and set the knife down quietly, trying harder than she preferred to keep her cool, “That’s what I’m asking you,” she explained exasperatedly. “What would you like with your salmon?” Her faux sweetness made him scoff as he leaned against the marble counter, crossing one ankle over the other. He looked good like that, so good that it made her hate him even more; wasn’t it enough for him to be an insanely rich jerk? Did he really need to be jaw droppingly attractive too?

He was a literal, fucking murderer- that looked like he belonged on the centerfold of a magazine while dressed in Abercrombie and Fitch.

“I don’t fucking care about what goes with the salmon,” his face contorted into an expression that she could only describe as a mixture of disgust and disdain, as if it were absolutely outlandish that she assume that he would decide what he wanted for dinner.

But Y/n knew him well; he’d say he didn’t care, but would probably throw a temper tantrum if she decided on whatever he’d deem as the wrong thing. “Yes, you do,” she seethed, “You just don’t know that you care.”

Ransom squinted his eyes and shook his head, “Fine,” he breathed, “Feels like I have to do everything around here,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Do those potatoes, with the….” He gestured in circles with his free hand, “With the…..thyme-”

“Rosemary,” Y/n corrected with an annoyed huff, “Rosemary potatoes,” collecting the bowl of bell peppers, she headed over to the fridge, slipping it onto one of the shelves. Quickly rinsing her hands off, she haphazardly dried them on a dishtowel near the sink before reaching for her handbag and cell phone on the island, “I have to go back to the store.”

He barely hummed in acknowledgement, though, before she left the kitchen, she heard the distinct sound of a spoon clattering to the tiled floor, “Y/n,” it still amazed her everyday that he got her name right, given that the complaint of the person she’d heard about the job from was that he never cared enough to get names right. Pausing, she turned slowly, anticipating his next words, “Pick that up for me,” he nodded towards the spoon, just a couple feet ahead of where he was standing- he’d either thrown it there or had kicked it after it 'fell', not that it mattered. “Please?” He flashed her a wicked smirk.

Stewing, Y/n set her things down with purpose and stalked towards where the spoon was laying, “Well,” she scoffed, “Since you asked so nicely.” Ensuring her back was to him, Y/n bent over without stooping in the slightest, making a point of bending over slowly and thereby offering him a view of her ass and bare legs. She took her time in collecting the spoon, though even when she did, Y/n straightened up with sultry fluidity and subtly swayed her hips as she sauntered towards him, not stopping until they were within a few inches of each other. In a lonesome, pronounced movement, she tugged on the lower hem of her blouse as she leaned past him to set it on the counter, not missing the way his oceanic gaze dipped to her cleavage.

“Is that all?” She tilted her head, secretly reveling in the effect she had on Ransom.

It was obvious that he’d had to put in active effort to tear his gaze away from the top of her breasts; while Ransom was not shy about ogling, he did, at times, have the decency to look at her face while they were speaking. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “Yeah….thanks.”

Y/n smirked, “Welcome,” once more, she collected her bag, and the keys to her little neat, gray Toyota before heading towards the kitchen doorway, “Be back in a while,” she offered causally, not even caring to listen out for a response.

The only thing worse than having to work late was when working late meant cleaning up after Ransom’s dates. His snobby, rude dates. They were all the same- Ransom seemed to have a type; stunning, rich, superficial and obnoxious, much like him. That night Christa, a young model, who’d managed to remind her of the fact three times in two hours, was nothing short of a grown up Regina George, equipped with the pink mini skirt and all. Thankfully, Y/n was well versed in the ‘grin and bare it’ approach, and managed to get through their sparse interactions without accidentally ruining her outfit with red wine.

After Ransom had taken Christa upstairs, Y/n had quickly cleared the glass table near the full length window in the dining area, and taken the dishes to the kitchen in one trip. It wasn’t hard to deduce what they were doing up there, but with lips pressed together, Y/n tried to ignore the thought; it wasn’t her business anyway. Though, it was nights like those that she’d have to work harder to convince herself that staying was worth it; it didn’t matter if he acted like she was nothing more than something put out for him to gawk at, if his guests treated her like crap or even if he had no qualms with, very loudly, debunching women while she was in the house- nothing but her goal mattered.

Scrubbing the scraps off the dishes before packing them into the dishwasher, Y/n worked with quiet haste, easily blocking out the muffled noises that seemed to travel down the stairs. Upon fitting one of the dishwasher pods into its allotted space, she eased the door shut and got started on cleaning up the kitchen; putting away leftovers, wiping down counters and rising off the sink. She was determined to leave the kitchen as spotless as possible; by what she’d gathered, Ransom was supposed to be gone for a few hours the next morning, and desperately, Y/n wanted to keep the time free for her own…..work.

It must have been just past ten with Christa left; heels thumping loudly on the floor, sounding as if she were in a hurry, and without seeing- or hearing anything other than her footsteps- she knew that something had gone wrong. While Ransom’s dates never spent the night, they rarely left before midnight.

Shortly after Christa left, right as she was finishing up with emptying the dishwasher, Y/n became vaguely aware of soft steps entering the kitchen. Without saying anything, she kept her back turned, drying off any excess water from freshly washed dishes and then setting them down on the counter near the sink. She heard the fridge open, then close again, then, the soft ‘pop’ of metal cap being eased off the mouth of a glass bottle disturbed the near silence, Y/n didn’t hear him leave though.

And she didn’t hear him come up behind her.

A sudden grip on her waist and a broad chest against her back startled Y/n, resulting in a half dried plate clattering noisily into the sink. Surprised, but not scared, she gasped sharply and glanced at his hand, holding firm to her side, “Can I help you, Hugh?”

“I think so,” Ransom bent his head so she could feel his alcohol laced breath hot against her ear, “Why don’t you call me Ransom tonight?”

Y/n’s shoulders relaxed a little and she huffed, “I’m guessing things with Christa didn’t go well?” She licked her lips and stole a glance up at the window behind the sink, catching bits of his expression; a devilishly attractive mix of mirth and mischief.

Ransom scoffed, and he was so close that she could feel the swell of his chest, “Worst fuck of my life,” he spat with palpable distaste, “But I think I can still turn my night around,” he added, just as his hand inched forward towards the plane of her lower stomach. Quickly, he pressed a teasing, open mouthed kiss to the side of her neck before pulling away to take an extended swing of his beer.

Maintaining her nonchalance, Y/n pushed his hand away and spun against him so they were face to face, while still in very close proximity. “Then you think wrong,” with an emphasized shove, she set the checkered dish towel down near the small, neat stack of dry dishes, “Because if you think that you’re gonna get anything from me while your drunk and fifteen minutes clear of being four inches deep in some snobby bitch, then you are sorely mistaken.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the venom in her tone or simply her outright rejection of his advances, but Ransom seemed stunned almost to the point of soberness. So much so that he didn’t say anything as she slipped away from him, actively avoiding paying any attention to his toned, bare chest or the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips, boasting the prominent 'v' that lead lower. Deciding that she’d have to allot a few minutes in the morning to put the dishes away after all, Y/n went over to the corner of the counter where she usually left her things and collected her handbag and phone. With the bag slung on her shoulder and her phone and car keys clutched in her hands, Y/n sauntered towards the doorway. “Seven inches,” he offered, just as she’d put one foot past the threshold.

With a smirk, Y/n bit back her snarky response, instead shaking her head as she headed out of his house, feeling all the more thrilled that she’d managed to, once again, topple his control.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom x reader #knives out #just like love

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