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holdmytesseract · 7 months

Note

Ohh well hello there bestie ✌️ My request for you is…

Will Ransome having to visit London and attend a party where he meets Reader and they share a dance (and maybe more 😏).

Hearts Aflame

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Summary: Will gets invited to London for the engagment party of a very good friend. What happens when he meets you again after ten long years?

Warnings: thirst, suggestive smut, mentions of alcohol, age gap, fluff?

Word Count: 3,8k

a/n: It was so much fun to write for Will again. I hope you are going to like this, bestie! 🫡 Thanks for the request! 💖

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

It was a rather cold autumn day in Aldwinter. Dark rain clouds hung all over the sky; ready to let the rain pour, causing Will Ransome - vicar of the cosy, little village to make bigger steps towards his home. He had taken the dog on a walk and was now fleeting from a threatening downpour, looming in the sky. The vicar's chocolate brown Cocker Spaniel had to run, in order to keep up with his master's big steps.

"Come on, Pup, come on. I don't want to get wet - and you neither. I know you."

But unfortunately, the weather didn't show mercy on them. It literally started to rain pitchforks, when the duo was only a few minutes away from their home. Hence, Will was already able to see it in distance. Nevertheless, it didn't help. Just like the running. When they reached the small house, dog and owner were soaked to the skin; clothes and fur literally dripping.

As fast as somehow possible, Will unlocked the door to let himself and Pup in. The moment the wooden door fell into its hinges, the vicar threw his coat on the coat hook to dry and immediately hurried to get a towel, before Pup could- Too late. Will was sprinting down the stairs; towel in hands as he witnessed how the dog shook off the water, causing the droplets to land everywhere. Will sighed in defeat, shook his head and made his way over towards the Cocker Spaniel. "You couldn't wait for another second, could you?" Pup just huffed and looked at him apologetically. "You are a bad boy sometimes, but I love you nonetheless, you fluffy little creature."

After rubbing the Cocker Spaniel's fur completely dry with the towel and also cleaning up the water on the floor, Will went upstairs to the bathroom, in order to get dry himself.

He unbuttoned his wet shirt first, then slid the suspenders off his shoulders, so that he could take off the usually puffy garment as well; leaving his torso bare. After getting rid of his brown trousers as well, he went to rub his long, blonde-brown curls dry, just like his whole body. Once that was done, he slipped in fresh clothes and decided to head back downstairs, where his faithful dog waited for him - with a piece of paper in his mouth?

Will frowned and squatted down; "What do you have here, buddy?" and took it from Pup's mouth. It was a letter - like the vicar recognised. A letter from someone he hadn't heard of in a long time... An old friend from London. Henry Carter. They used to be best friends; even went to school together. Will spent the most of his youth with him. But someday their ways parted, when Henry decided to become a lawyer and Will a man of God.

With a smile and full of anticipation, the vicar sat down on his little sofa and opened the letter.

Greetings, my old friend!

I sincerely hope that you do remember me. After all, it's been quite a few years since the last time we saw each other. Just know that I never forgot you - and with this letter, I would like to invite you to my engagement party. Yes, you read that right, my friend. I found a lovely, wonderful woman, who is very eager to meet you. So, if you have the time, my fiancee and I would be overjoyed to welcome you in London next Saturday.

I hope to see you soon,

Henry Carter

Will's smile widened, as he put the letter back inside the envelope. Oh he'd certainly go to London next weekend.

A week later, the vicar's feet touched, indeed, London ground again - since years. He didn't want to admit it, but it felt good to leave Aldwinter for a while. Even if it was just two days. It was a break he didn't know he needed.

At the train station, he was already awaited. By a man Will only knew too well - and a strange woman who stood beside him. The man smiled brightly as soon as he recognised the vicar and met him on the way.

"Will?" Henry asked; quite a bit surprised. Will smiled and started to nod as well. "Hello, old friend." A breathless laugh left the lawyer's lips, before he went to hug his school friend; clapping him on the shoulder. William returned the gesture, of course; was just as happy.

"You've changed, Will!" Henry stated, after paying his appearance a closer look. "I did?" "Yes! Look at you! You've grown! You were always tall, but never that... muscly... Even got a beard now! And your hair is way longer than in my memories." Will chuckled at his friend's assessments. "Well, I suppose I have... But you, my friend, you didn't change at all!" That caused the man to chuckle along Will, before they both went silent for a moment.

"It's so great to have you here and see you again. There've been times where I thought I'd probably never see you again, but here you are..." "That thought crossed my mind a few times, too, my friend. I wanted to write you a letter and somehow contact you, but I didn't know where you lived now. Still with your parents? Perhaps not even in London anymore... I didn't know."

Henry placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "You couldn't. I stayed at my parents for another year, but then... Then I met her." The lawyer turned and looked at the woman, who still stood a few meters away from the reunited friends; smiling softly. "Come on, I want you to meet Eva." The men smiled at each other, before they both made their way over to said woman.

"Eva, darling... Let me finally introduce you to Mr. William Ransome." Henry gestured at Will, "Will... This is my beautiful fiancee Eva." then at Eva. Will smiled and stretched out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eva." She took his hand and allowed the vicar to bestow a decent kiss on the skin of her hand - a gentleman to the core. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Ransome." "Will... Please call me Will."

The remaining afternoon was spent with Henry and Eva showing Will around in their quite big house, letting the vicar unpack his things and teatime, of course. A lot of conversations were shared. When the wedding is, how the couple met and so on. For Will, it was about getting to know the woman his dear friend married - just like it was for Eva to get to know her future husband's friend.

In the evening, after dinner, Will and Henry decided to go to a local bar, in order to celebrate their reunion. Despite that, they still had quite some catching up to do.

Now they were seated in the bar; both with a glass of beer in hands. "So... Tell me, friend... How is Aldwinter?" Will smiled. "Well... It's a small, cosy village. The people are great. I love to live there and being a vicar. I came to think that this was what Aldwinter needed... A vicar. The people trust me and I appreciate that a lot." Henry nodded and smiled as well, "That's great to hear, honestly." before he took a sip of his beer.

"Do you have a own house or do you live in the church?" "It's 'just' a chapel and too small to live in. I have a own little house. You can come visit sometime. You and Eva of course, if you'd like to." "Sure, why not. We'd love to." Henry paused for a moment; let Will drink some of his beer as well, before he fired the next question at him.

"A little house... And you live there... alone?" Will noticed immediately what Henry was insisting. It wasn't quite subtle. The vicar looked down; fingers nervously tapped against the glass of beer. "Yes, I... I live there alone - with my little dog, Pup."

Opposite him, Henry raised an eyebrow - unbeknownst to Will. "No woman?" His friend shook his head. "N-No." The lawyer copied his gesture. "How is that possible, William? When I think back to our youth - our time in school, almost every lady had laid her eyes upon you. They would've all wanted you. You can't tell me that this has changed." He stated; drinking again.

Will shrugged his shoulders; gaze lifting again. "I really don't know, Henry, I... I just haven't found the right woman yet. But I trust in god to send her my way when the time comes." Henry reached over to clap his friend on the shoulder. "Well, I trust in that too, then. Just know that you are not getting younger. It's time for you settle down, you know..." "I do know, yes..."

Silence spread between the two man; both of them thinking about the exchanged words for a moment. A small laugh left Henry's lips then. "I can't quite believe I reached this milestone before you." Will couldn't help but to chuckle as well. "Me neither, honestly."

The two friends continued to talk about anything and everything, until one specific topic suddenly came up... You.

"Who else did you have invited for the celebration who I might know?" Will asked with a smile. "Other old school friends?" Henry shook his head. "No, I didn't. Apologies. My parents would've loved to come, but they said they're feeling too old for such a party. I accepted their wish to not attend." He paused; took a sip of his beer. "I think the only other person you know is my little sister, Y/N. Do you remember her?"

Will's eyes widened at the mention of your name. Of course, he remembered you! He had seen you often back when he was younger and hanging out with Henry. Will always thought of you as Henry's sweet, little sister - since you had been still a child. Well... A very young woman, to say it right. The vicar quickly calculated in his head. He was about twenty-two that time. Henry was just as old and you... You were fourteen, which means that you were now... twenty-four. A grown woman.

"Yes, yes, of course I remember her. She was still very young back then." Henry nodded with a chuckle. "She was, indeed... But not anymore. She has grown, my friend. She's not that sweet, innocent girl anymore... Y/N's a woman now. You're not going to believe your eyes when you see her again. I bet you won't even recognize her." Will smiled; drank the last sip of his beer. "That is most likely going to happen. After all, it's been ten years..."

Henry should be proven right...

A sigh left your lips, as you grabbed another glass of champagne, before you hid yourself in one of the corners; exchanging several more fake smiles on your way there.

You were bored. Utterly bored.

It wasn't like you didn't want to be here, at your big brother's engagement party, no, but the problem was that you knew everybody here and had talked at least twice to all the people. Too many familiar faces - and the most of them not your age.

You barely finished to think that thought, when your eyes suddenly spotted a strange man in the crowd. You narrowed your eyes; gaze sticking on him as he got greeted by your brother. He was tall. Way taller than Henry. His hair was long and curly; coloured in blonde-brown. His cheekbones were high and sharp - like you could tell. A soft scruff was covering his cheeks and chin, and you could swear that he had blue eyes. You bit your lip. That guy probably was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Now you were intrigued. Henry owed you some explanations. From where did he know that tuxedo clad gentleman?

As if Henry heard your thoughts, you could see him making his way over to you - and he seemed to be very excited. You could tell.

"Y/N!" He called out your name in a cheery voice. "Y/N, you have to see someone!" Henry grabbed both your hands; smiling brightly. You lifted an eyebrow, "Is it your mysterious new friend you kept from me?" and nodded towards the man, who was currently talking to Eva.

Henry followed your gaze - and started to laugh. "He's not my mysterious new friend I kept from you. In fact, you know him. Very well might I add." You frowned; were quite a bit confused now. Sure, you thought he looked somehow familiar, but played it off as a coincidence. Now, after your brother's words, though... But from where could you know- "Do you remember my childhood friend Will? William Ransome? Well..."

Your eyes widened the moment those words left your brother's lips and for a short moment, you felt like fainting, as your heart rate sped up. "You are fooling me, brother! This is Will?!" Henry laughed once more; nodding. "I kid you not, sister." He turned around to Will, shouting: "Hey, Will! Would you come over, please?"

Will's head turned with a smile, and before he walked over to join you and your brother, he politely ended the conversation he had with Eva.

Your heart threatened to burst inside of your chest, as you watched the tall man stepping closer - and when he spoke your name, everything froze in time around you. "Y/N..." His voice sounded exactly like you remembered it. Deep, yet smooth like velvet. Being the gentleman he was, the vicar stretched out his palm for you to take. Wordlessly, you complied; placed your hand in his and letting him brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Your knees almost buckled.

"It's has been such a long time, I... I don't know what to say! It is a pleasure to see you again." Will's gaze met yours, causing you to get lost in his eyes; drowning helplessly in those oceanic blues. Up close, he was even more handsome. What an attractive man he had become... You definitely needed a moment to recover.

"I find myself being just as stunned, Will. It is great to see you as well. After all, it has been over ten years!"

Henry left you and Will alone to talk then; having other guests to tend to as well. And while you talked about how your life had been in all those past years, Will wasn't able to tear his gaze apart from you...

You've aged - but in the best way possible. Henry had been right. You weren't the young girl anymore he used to know. You had grown into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Countless conversations and another glass of champagne later, Will had asked you to dance with him and how could you say no to that? How could you deny him this wish? You gladly accepted; feeling all the old feelings you had harboured for this man in your youth reappear. Everything you thought you had buried deep within you re-emerged; causing your heart to beat faster whenever he looked at you. It was like not even a day had passed since you last saw the vicar. Like the time had just stopped for the both of you. There was a tension between you and Will. A sizzle. A spark; ready to burst into flames at any moment. It was thrilling. Exciting. And yet also a bit intimidating.

It was already late at night, when you decided to bid your goodbye and leave. Will, being the gentleman he was, offered to accompany you home - something Henry was very grateful for. A young lady walking home alone in the dead of the night through the streets of London? Unacceptable.

In what Henry and probably also Will saw a kind favour, you saw a chance. Perhaps the only chance you'd get before life ripped Will out of your sight once more...

"There we are..." You announced; stopping in front of a tall, slightly decayed brick house. The dim street lamps didn't provide enough light to illuminate the whole street, but enough that you were able to make out the handsome features of the man standing in front of you in his black tuxedo.

"That is the house you are living in?" You nodded with a smile. "Yes, it is." Will shook his head, as a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. "It's so much bigger than the little cottage I live in." You had to giggle as well. "Well... London isn't Aldwinter, Mr. Ransome - and besides, I don't live alone in here. There are several apartments." Will's cheeks reddened slightly. You could tell. "Right, of course. Apologies." You just smiled at him, before an unpleasant silence spread over the both of you. The tension was still there. Just like the spark; setting almost the night air aflame. You better make a move now or let him walk out of your life once more - perhaps for all times, a voice in your mind whispered; urging you on. Probably it was your heart speaking to you.

You took a step back and leaned against the wooden main door; crossing your arms behind your back.

Will noticed the shift in your demeanour immediately; gaze stuck on your face for a long moment, before he literally forced himself to look away.

"Y/N... Don't..." His words were nothing more than a whisper.

"Whatever do you mean?" You retorted; innocence swinging within your voice.

Will shook his head softly. "Don't look at me like that. Please, don't give me those eyes." You bit your lip; releasing a hand from behind your back to slowly place it on the vicar's chest. "Why?" You breathed; toying with the buttons of his pristine white shirt.

Will swallowed hard. "Be-Because it's wrong. We... We shouldn't do..." Before he could finish his sentence, you had pulled him towards you; his feet following your command. His words died in his throat, when he watched your soft, plump lips inching closer to his - until the contact was inevitable. Your warm lips caught his in a hesitant - almost shy kiss.

Unfortunately, it ended way too soon, as you pulled back after a mere few seconds; leaving him aching for more. Will didn't even notice how he was chasing after your lips in a desperate attempt to keep them locked to his. And nevertheless, his mind was still trying to talk sense into him. "... do this." He ended the sentence in which you had interrupted him oh so rudely.

You could hear how hard he swallowed. "We... We shouldn't, Y/N." Will reasoned; gently taking your hand in his bigger one. You watched his palm swallow yours whole, as he moved your hand away from his chest. The moment he dropped your hand caused a cold shiver to run down your spine; followed by an aching pain. You didn't want to loose his touch. Ever again.

You shook your head; hand hovering over his chest once more. "Why, William?" The vicar took a deep breath. "You... You are the little sister of my best friend and-" "And?" "And you are so much younger than I am. You're a precious flower; not meant for me. I... I don't want to ruin you."

"What if I want you to ruin me?"

Your feelings and desire for the older man opposite you spoke faster than your brain was able to react.

Will blinked; clearly couldn't believe your words. "W-What?"

"Will... You were the first boy I fell in love with; ten years back. At first I thought it was foolish and youthful behaviour of my body, but then... Then you'd come around to spend time with my brother and... And I knew it wasn't. I had fallen head over heels for the best friend of Henry. Of course, I was way too shy and young to tell you. It was my secret." Will's eyes had widened; oceanic blues looking at you. Stunned.

"When you left, I buried my feelings for you. I thought they would stay buried, but when I saw you again, today... You already ruined me for every other man to come, Will." Shock and disbelief was written all over the vicar's face. He hadn't expected this to happen. Not at all. He didn't know. How could he?

"I have always wanted you." Those words were again merely above a whisper, but they urged to his ears nevertheless. Again, you let your palm rest on his chest; feeling his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Will gasped at the combination of your words and touch. He still couldn't quite believe it - and the rational part of his brain still tried to appeal to his conscience.

"Y/N, it..." He started to shake his head once more. "It wouldn't have been right. You were not even fifteen! It would've been wrong! For us to love each other and for me to take such a young woman's innocence!" Will inhaled deeply; running a hand through his hair. "By god, I... I was twenty-two! Don't you see how wrong it was?! How wrong it still is?!"

You honestly didn't understand what his problem was. It may have been wrong ten years back, but now?

"That may be right, Will, but..." You let your hand linger on his left pec for a moment, before you let your palm travel lower. And lower. And lower. Will's oceanic blue eyes followed your every move; widening when your hand settled on the zipper of his black trousers. "... you can take it now. I'm not a young girl anymore. I am a grown woman. Please... Don't deny me."

Your words send a shiver down Will's spine. A warm - almost hot shiver. The ends of his nerves sizzled and he could clearly feel the arousal start to grow within the pit of his stomach. Especially when he looked at your lust blown eyes; sparkling underneath the dim light under the street lamp.

Then you undid the zipper - and he felt a throb; something undeniably twitching alive. How... How in the Lord's name was he supposed to resist this temptation?

The answer to this question was found quickly... "Please, Will... Please..." You almost whispered; eyes full of desire, love - and want.

He couldn't.

Shaking hands reached for hips; pulling you swiftly closer. You stumbled against his chest - and before you knew what was happening, you felt Will's lips upon yours. This kiss was anything but innocent. It was fierce, passionate, demanding.

Somehow, you managed to open the main door and together you stumbled inside the house; lips - and hearts intertwined.

The world around the vicar stopped to spin when you sank together in the deepest oceans of pleasure. All he could feel was you.

#will ransome #the essex serpent #will ransome x reader #will ransome x you #will ransome x y/n #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston characters

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lokidokieokie · 1 year

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Fic Recs

Hello, I’m alive!

Before we get to the fics, I’d just like to apologise for being extremely lazy and not doing anything with my tumblr account for the past two weeks.

Fabulous authors have been out here producing impeccable content, so I am going to correct my issue and give you all the amazing fics that you may have missed out on :)

Loki Laufeyson

What About the Plans We Made? by @wheredafandomat

Captain’s Orders by @lokisgoodgirl

Thirty Seconds by @muddyorbsblr

My Best Friend by @vbecker10 part 1 linked

Not What it Looks Like by @wheredafandomat

Swipe by @theaudacitytowrite part 1 linked

What He Doesn’t Know by @michelleleewise

Practice Makes Perfect by @simplyholl masterlist linked

Bonded by @michelleleewise

Sing Me To Sleep by @holdmytesseract

Choices by @mochie85

Cum Fly with Me by @wheredafandomat

Captain’s Orders: New Depths by @lokisgoodgirl

Restraint by @coldnique

The Selection by @lady-rose-moon masterlist linked

You Are My Queen by @vbecker10

Claw and Order by @michelleleewise

Something Real by @ladylovesloki masterlist linked

Relinquish the Crown: Obsessions & Fantasies by @muddyorbsblr

Hot & Bothered by @lokisgoodgirl

Hail, Commander by @lokisgoodgirl

The Chambermaid by @wheredafandomat

Little Joys by @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Small Talks by @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Big Misunderstandings by @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Her Romeo by @michelleleewise part 1 linked

Drugs of Love, Love of Drugs by @pics-and-fanfics masterlist linked

Hot & Bothered: Snack Shack by @lokisgoodgirl

Asgard, Land of... Aphrodisiacs? by @thomase1

I Need You Tonight by @wheredafandomat

A Helping Hand by @peachyjinx

Summoned by @muddyorbsblr part 1 linked

Magnus Martinsson

Hypotheticals & Distractions by @muddyorbsblr

Maintain Our Cover by @muddyorbsblr

Jonathan Pine

Paris by @muddyorbsblr

Duty of Care by @muddyorbsblr

James Conrad

Keep Me Safe by @muddyorbsblr

Will Ransome

Measurements by @muddyorbsblr

Confess Your Sins by @holymultiplefandomsbatman

Tom Hiddleston

Birthday Boy by @simping-for-marvel

Doctor Stephen Strange

Only You by @make-me-imagine

Attention by @futureplayboibunnie

Sherlock Holmes

A Queen for a Mindpalace by @strangelockd

Stolen Love by @ncis-cm-hp-sherlock-imagines

Sleepless Nights by @strrvnge

Bucky Barnes

In A Year’s Time by @mysecretlittlelibrary

Betting by @traitorjoelite

To Let You Win by @delaber

Blooming Rage by @tee-swizzle

Cupcake by @demonsandmischief

Daddy’s Home by @starshipsofstarlord

Baby Fever by @suitk0via

Six Days by @tmpestuous

One Step at a Time by @tmpestuous

Nothing Breaks like a Heart by @buckybabesonly

Protector by @buckybabesonly

My Girl by @girl-next-door-writes

Dumb Dumb by @nicestgirlonline

For You Always by @jobean12-blog

Make Me Forget by @povlvr

Flirting and Football by @lovelybarnes

Dog Tags by @lovelybarnes

It Was Supposed to be a Confession Potion! by @buckylattes

False God by @notafunkiller

Metal Arms and Short Skirts by @buckyarchives part 1 linked

Keep Me Alive by @freyjhasdesiredreality

You’re a Masterpiece by @wndalovebot

You Had One Job by @buckyalpine

Secret Girlfriend by @jenwritesstories

Right a Wrong by @starks-hero part 1 linked

Where Dreams Go to Die by @insomniumstella masterlist linked

It’s Just a Kiss by @witchywithwhiskey

Wordpeddler by @heli0s-writes

Unconventional Methods by @marvelouslizzie part 1 linked

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lokidbadguy · 1 year

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THE CLOSE UP, I CAN'T

yes, I am will ransome's whore.

#will ransome #the essex serpent #will ransome fic #will ransome x reader #will ransome x you #lusty vicar #hot priest #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston edit #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #lokisaidkneel #lokidbadguy #loki x you #loki x reader

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sserpente · 2 years

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A/N: Request from @ppartridgee. Naughty, spooky, fluffy. Well, I know I’m perfectly content now! :D

Words: 2616 Warnings: smut, fluff

Additional NSFW warnings: Daddy kink (well, that’s certainly a first on this blog!)

Thud. You scrambled to your feet when the door fell shut, shutting the book in your hands and frantically shoving it under your pillow. William Ransome had no business finding out what you were reading. You had bought the novel on your trip to London and Lord, was it sinful… about a young woman who fell in love with the priest of her town after he had convinced her that the only way to repent for her sins was to pleasure him… You bit your lower lip. Yes. William Ransome definitely had no business finding out about any of that.

“Don’t you think…” he began instead of a greeting, “…that you are exaggerating a little bit with all of your Halloween decoration?” You grinned when he stepped into your field of vision and crossed your arms before your chest, holding back a cough. You’d been feeling quite horrible and worn out all morning, like an invisible force was pulling at your limbs. You already suspected that you were getting sick but as long as you still had chores to do, you were unwilling to give in to it.

“No. Why?” The entire house was full of pumpkins. Some you had drawn funny faces on, others now made scary grimaces. Nearer the spookiest day of the year, you would carve some of them too and stuff them with a candle so they’d illuminate the darkness after dusk.

The vicar smiled and shook his head.

“I made some pumpkin soup, you want some?”

“Oh? Pumpkin soup? Good god, where did you get the pumpkins for it?” He asked jokingly as he sat down at the table.

Chuckling, you staggered over to your small kitchen area to heat up the pot. Will regularly came here ever since his wife died. There was a sad loneliness about the vicar that deeply touched you and somehow… you had found friendship in one another. Well… Will had found friendship in you. You had found a man you didn’t dare confess your love to.

You had not spoken about Stella in a while but you were unsure whether Will was still grieving, for if he was… you would never want to put him in a position where he’d have to choose between your friendship or… you sighed. Whatever the second option was.

“The kids and teens in town will go crazy again…” He sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I just hope they’ll live the church alone.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will. Last year was an exception and those responsible moved away. It’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to handing out some sweets, in any case.”

“They’ll be running your door in. You are the only one who puts effort into Halloween. I just wish you would…” Will looked up with an apologetic expression on his face. “I just wish you would… tone it down just a little bit. I couldn’t bear the villagers starting to call you a witch and ask me to cast you out or perform an exorcism on you.”

Heat pooled in your core, making you gasp quietly. Instantly, you were reminded of that one scene in the book where the priest had tied the protagonist to the altar as naked as Eve and then proceeded to lick every single inch of her body until he’d reached her wet folds, a teasing flick to her most sensitive part… You cleared your throat, finishing up Will’s meal.

“It’s just a holiday, I’m allowed to be excited about it. Besides, aren’t the Jack’O’Lanterns supposed to scare away evil spirits? They should thank me I’m doing your job!” You chuckled and set the soup on the table before him. Will dug in immediately.

“That’s not exactly how it works, darling.” Darling. He always had you weak in the knees when he called you that. Not that he knew.

You closed your eyes for a moment. The headache that’d been tormenting you since this morning kept getting worse, and no amount of fluids you drank helped. You winced after you’d finished cleaning up and Will had finished his soup.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern radiating over to you.

“Yeah… just a headache. I’m probably coming down with the flu or something.” The vicar frowned, rising from his seat to walk over to you. You gasped quietly when he brought his palm to your forehead.

“You are burning up, darling. You should be in bed. Come on… I will get the doctor.”

“I’ll be fine, Will. I’ve had this a dozen times before. A bit of rest and I’ll be…” You got interrupted by a coughing fit so bad your stomach hurt by the time you were done.

“Bed. Right now,” was all he said. Your lower regions clenched. That… fuck. That was by far the most dominant thing he had ever… you swallowed thickly. He never once took his eyes off you until you were back in bed, allowing him to tuck you in and sit on the edge of the mattress.

“I can brew you some tea in your kitchen if that is alright with you.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“And after that,” he said when he rose again, “I expect you to stay in bed until you recovered. No more decorating with pumpkins, okay?” He was so sweet. And loving, and kind, and caring and hot and handsome and…

“Okay, Daddy.” Your eyes widened. Fuck. You had said that out loud. Will stopped dead in his tracks and gave you a hesitant look.

“What… did you just call me?”

Biting your lower lip, you avoided his blue gaze, looking around your bedroom in an attempt to find the perfect excuse for what had just happened… but you couldn’t. Daddy was what the main protagonist in your book had started calling the honourable Father. Pure filth had followed the statement in the book… but Will wasn’t exactly fictional. Quite on the contrary. He was very, very real.

Panicking, you opened your mouth without a single sound escaping it, shuffling back a little on the bed and managing, on top of your embarrassment, to knock the book hidden under your pillow on the wooden floor.

Will frowned, giving you a questioning look before his blue eyes landed on the title. His lips parted as he picked it up. You watched, frozen in place when he flipped it over and skimmed the blurb. And then, his eyes locked with yours again.

“I can explain…” You started. But could you? The only explanation here was that your feelings for the town’s vicar went way beyond friendship and that you desired him like a dragon desired treasure. Will was your treasure. And up until now, you had been perfectly content with having him in your life as a friend, even if your heart… and your body… longed for more.

“It’s just a novel.”

“A novel about a young woman and her… vicar. And you calling me ‘Daddy’ surely was no accident, was it?” He looked at you, not in a reproachful way, but as if he wanted to, no, needed to figure you out. Your thoughts, your feelings. As if he suspected… The way he said “Daddy” made you shiver with need, even more so when he said your name.

“If we go… there… you know things would never be like they were before then.”

“You… Will… Do you…”

“I… I do. I do reciprocate.”

Your lips parted, both excitement and shock filling your core at the same time. “Why… why did you never tell me?”

“Because…” He paused, looking up to the ceiling as if fetching the words from there. “Because I am your vicar. I am supposed to protect you and provide comfort, not lure you into a romantic relationship with me.”

“You needed company and comfort as much as I did, Will. You can’t possibly believe that God will provide you with that when you’re all alone in that church praying.” Another coughing fit. Damn that flu.

“I did not allow myself to go any further. I am supposed to be mourning my wife…”

“It’s been over a year, Will. She wouldn’t want you to waste away and…”

The vicar closed his eyes for a brief moment, finally setting your book aside. “If we do this…” He repeated. “I’m not sure I will be able to go back to being your friend, darling.”

“I… I know.” But you felt like you might die if you didn’t get to feel him. Taste him, smell him, let yourself be consumed by him. “I don’t want you to.”

Will’s gaze was so loving you feared you’d melt into a puddle, even more so when it darkened with a start and he said, “Then be good for me and sit on my lap.” Testing the waters. Seeing how far he could take it. Exploring and daring. This was as new for him as it was for you.

The corners of your mouth twitched when he sat down on the bed and you crawled over to him to obey. “Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You pressed your legs together. Fuck.

“Okay… Daddy.” You blushed, making him chuckle.

“I’m sorry…” you choked out. “I didn’t… the book… and it’s kind of hot given you’re…”

Will smiled. “No need to be ashamed. I like the idea… I simply didn’t think you’d have such a filthy mind, darling.”

You grinned despite your growing headache. “Is that a sin? I might need to be… punished if it is.”

Will took the hint and smiled. “Perhaps another time. For now, we need to nurse you back to health. Are you sure you don’t want to see the doctor?”

“No… it’s that time of the year, I’ll be fine. A sore throat, and a bit of a fever… I’ll just… stay in bed and rest. I don’t want to miss Halloween.”

“Very well then… I’m sure we’ll find a different way to make you feel better. You know…” he began, moving your skirts out of the way so the only piece of fabric still protecting you from his soft hands were your cotton knickers. Your heartbeat sped up, along with a familiar heat pooling right between your legs. “…last time I was in London, Dr. Garrett and I had a very interesting conversation about how the release of endorphins… is believed to reduce stress and pain. And do you know what causes a high release of endorphins at once?”

“N-no?” Your breath was shaky, and so was your entire body. You brought your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself all the while Will spread your legs even further. This was happening. This was truly happening.

“Orgasms, darling.” Your knickers were wet. Soaked.

“So let me take care of you…” Sucking in a deep breath through your teeth, you let him push the fabric aside and then leaned forward to press your lips against his. Oh… Quickly, you turned your head.

“Let me kiss you, darling.” He smiled, hiding his irritation.

“I don’t want to infect you.”

“Ah… but what we are about to do will not infect me?” As if to make a point, Will began to unbuckle his belt. Then, suddenly, he paused, looking you deep in the eye. “Are you certain you want this?”

“Y-yes. Are… are you?”

“More than anything, love. I just never thought you would feel the same way. I would never pressure you into…”

“You’re not!” A cough. “I promise you’re not. I want this,” you stressed. You inched forward, feeling his hard length hidden beneath his trousers.

Whimpering when he freed himself, Will then grabbed a hold of your bottom and gently lifted you up, onto his throbbing member. Fuck, you were quite positive you had never seen a cock this beautiful. And every fibre of your being was aching to feel it inside of you.

Eager to ride him, you bucked your hips to sit down, the vicar, however, stopped you.

“Slowly… we don’t want you to exhaust yourself, right?” You shook your head, biting your lower lip so hard you feared you’d draw blood.

“No, Daddy…” Calling him so only fuelled your arousal, even more so when he growled. He actually growled. Fuck. Inch by agonising inch, you impaled yourself on his hard manhood until his tip was pressing against your cervix almost painfully.

Will was guiding you as you began to ride him, heeding his advice to go slow. His large hands were on your hips, rocking you back and forth in an almost soothing manner—and at this point, you were already so lost in your pleasure and quite possibly your fever that you would have done anything he asked for. You had a feeling that the vicar was very well aware of that and it was touching how thoughtful he was being with your vulnerability.

Never before had you felt like this. So at ease. So innocent, so… you took a deep breath, increasing your speed a little. Subspace. You’d read about it before. Deeper and deeper you fell into that blissful state all the while your arousal grew higher and higher.

Your clit was rubbing deliciously against Will’s pelvic bone, the sound of sex echoing through the room.

“Easy… don’t rush it…” You heard him mumble when you sped up yet again, eager for the orgasm that was slowly creeping up on you like a poltergeist.

“But… what about… you…” You breathed out in response, barely able to form a functioning sentence anymore.

“I am already struggling to hold out for a while longer, sweet angel.” Sweet angel… Your pussy clenched around him, a delicious precursor of what you were hunting like a hungry lioness.

“You’re close…” He said. It was not a question. Nodding mutely, you dug your fingernails into his clothed shoulders, looking him deep in the eye with parted lips. Your mouth formed a perfect O when you finally came undone, gushing all over him as you let your climax consume you.

Will moaned. “I have to… pull out, darling… We can’t risk…” He groaned once more. It took you all of your willpower to stop riding him, to avoid feeling him cumming inside of you and filling you up with his seed. But in the end, you managed, if anything because you were not exactly fond of the idea of getting pregnant just yet either.

Will lifted you off of him, flipping you over so you came to lie on your back, and wrapped his hand around his thick length, finishing what you had started. A couple more eager thrusts were all it took for him to stain both the bed and your stomach with his warm seed, accompanied by heavy grunts and groans.

Then, for a few peaceful and quiet seconds, it was utterly silent. You were too exhausted to lift yourself up, instead left it to Will to stand, adjust his trousers, and then reach for the cloth next to your washing bowl on top of the vanity to clean you up.

“Thank you…” You whispered, allowing him to tuck you in straight after, smiling weakly when he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Are you feeling alright? Perhaps… we should have waited until you feel better…”

“No… no, I’m fine. Tired but fine. That was… God, that was amazing.”

Your eyes fell shut but you felt his smile nonetheless.

“It was. I only ever dared dream of being with you like this.” He paused, stroking your hair. “I’ll get you your tea now. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You smiled. When he turned around to leave the bedroom, before you could utter another cheeky “Thank you, Daddy”, you had already fallen asleep.

A/N: *logs out of Tumblr to bathe in Holy Water*

#william ransome #william ransome imagine #william ransome x you #william ransome x reader #william ransome x female reader #will ransome #will ransome imagine #william ransome fluff #william ransome smut #will ransome x you #will ransome x reader #will ransome smut #will ransome fluff #the essex serpent #the essex serpent imagine #tom hiddleston

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five-miles-over · 2 years

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Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Act When They Have a Crush (on You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Will Ransome having a crush on you would include him offering small bunches of flowers to you whenever he saw you. He would eagerly explain to you the names of the flowers and where they were to be found in Aldwinter. And he would love it whenever you showed interest in the topics he discussed during his weekly sermons at the church, losing track of time while he answered your questions and offered additional commentary.

Despite being very nervous about saying something inappropriate, Will also finds a way to give you a genuine compliment every time you meet, whether it's about the way you styled your hair or the color of your outfit.

When you're not around, he'd fantasize about what it'd be like to be intimate with you. Not necessarily intimate a sexual manner - he would imagine holding hands with you, reading to you while you were curled up in his lap, spending a cold morning under a warm blanket with you, and playing with his dog in the springtime. Will would dream of a life with you, and pray to God that He keeps the two of you together.

King Henry V from The Hollow Crown

King Henry's crush on you began during your betrothal to him. You were brought to meet him for the first time and your father signed the agreement solidifying your family's alliance to the young king of England.

With one look, Henry found himself bewitched by you, declaring that you must be a goddess like Venus or a maiden of heavenly beauty like Helen of Troy. After signing the agreement, Henry would take great interest in showing you around the palace (with a chaperone present of course. Medieval courting. XD). He'd study your face as the two of you went to different rooms - the gardens, the throne room, the library, the king's study - so he could figure out which places you liked the best.

After you had gone home, Henry would ask his men to find out everything they could about you: your favorite flower, your favorite food(s), your favorite fragrance. He wanted to make sure that your new chamber in the palace would be perfect for you.

He would take immense delight in seeing you smile, feeling his own heart skip a beat every time you laughed. When you were alone, he might nervously tell you a flirtatious joke, feeling relieved when you giggled. Maybe if he was feeling bold, he would sweet-talk you into holding his hand (with your consent, of course) and letting him kiss your perfect lips.

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

("A god doesn't have crushes, Ruhi!"

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.")

Loki having a crush on you would include him showing off his tricks and illusions in the hopes that it would amaze you. He'd take great pleasure in making you laugh, whether it's through a witty joke or a prank (even if Thor is the butt of said prank).

He would be mesmerized whenever you showed off your talents, like singing, dancing, hand-to-hand combat, writing, or even vocal impressions. Loki would be your biggest cheerleader, applauding each and every time, encouraging you to hone your skills further. (Shit, now I'm thinking of Loki holding green pom-poms…what have I done?)

When he's alone, Loki would think about you, wondering if you liked him too. He might even keep a journal titled with your name, a dedicated place for him to write about all the details that he adores about you.

Loki would sometimes watch you from afar (not necessarily in a creepy, stalking way), and conjure little presents and trinkets to make you feel better when you were upset. He would grow jealous whenever another person tries to make a move on you, and would either intercept them or simply persuade you to turn your attention elsewhere.

For the record, it would take a bit of teasing from Thor (or Lady Frigga - dear autocorrect, stop changing her name to Fridge) in order to get Loki to confess his attraction to you.

Bill Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

Bill having a crush on you would include him helping you out whenever possible, carrying groceries to your home, making sure you got home safely at night, or letting you stand under his umbrella whenever it unexpectedly rained. (*insert Rihanna reference here*)

Bill would be keen to listen to you talk about anything, he absolutely enjoys the sound of your voice as if it were his personal radio show. And at home, Bill would gush about you to his parents, showering you with plenty of praise in your absence.

He would long for the chance to ask you out on a date but every time you say his name, his tongue goes numb and he forgets the words that he mentally rehearsed several times.

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Caius having a crush on you would include him being surprised at first, thinking such a feeling to be beneath him. He is a general, he must always be in control (if you know which film this is from, tell me so I can give you a Tumblr hug).

He would take his time, keeping his adoration a secret, sending his servants to find out about your background. And every time he saw you in the town square, he would stare but quickly turn away once you caught him. Eventually, he would accept that his feelings for you were not some passing fancy but a genuine love for you. He would think about your charms, your beauty, your smile, and wish to have it all for himself.

When he is working, his army colleagues would tease him about his affections, badgering him with questions about you. Of course, Caius would be quick to lose his temper, barking at them to mind their own business.

Caius would try to get your attention by inviting your family for supper, sending a servant to your home bearing a letter that described his interest in you. He would have his servants prepare the best dishes for your family, knowing that he will need to make a good impression as a worthy suitor for you.

When interacting with you, Caius would speak in soft, dulcet tones, asking if you were enjoying the food and if you were comfortable. You would be the only person that could make Caius laugh, let alone smile.

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan having a crush on you would include him conveying his affection through polite gestures, like asking about your day whenever you saw him in the lobby. He would listen to you rant about almost anything, like your favorite book or your favorite film actor. He would keep your favorite magazine reserved for you, save a plate of food if he knew you were going to have a long night.

If you were in the hotel when your birthday rolled around, he would use some of his savings to buy you a small present, be it a box of sweets or a piece of jewelry.

He wouldn't talk much about himself with you, given his dark, troubling past, but he would be very protective towards you. Jonathan would do anything and everything in his power to make sure that nobody hurt you, or used you as some type of bait to get to him.

Robert Laing from High-Rise

Robert having a crush on you would include him bringing coffee to you in the morning, just so he can see you before going off to work at the medical school.

He would remember each and every thing about your interactions. If you told him that your favorite scent was gardenia flowers, then he'd switch his usual cologne for one that smelled more like gardenia flowers. He'd even buy a tie that was your favorite color.

If the two of you were ever at a party, Robert would keep a subtle eye on you, prepared to knock anyone out if they ever got too handsy with you. He'd also silently hope that at one point during the night, you would approach him, a slow song would start to play, and you would put your arms around his neck, looking into his eyes…

Yeah, for someone who looks very detached from most things, Robert would be very, very attached to you.

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

Magnus having a crush on you would include plenty of teasing from his work colleagues at the police station. In front of them, he'd pretend to be all tough about it, denying as much as he can. But on the inside, Magnus would literally be putty in your hands.

He would buy flowers for you, often leaving them at your doorstep because of his odd hours. Whenever the two of you happened to meet, Magnus would feel elated whenever you recognized him.

It would take some egging from his colleagues or even Wallander himself to get Magnus to stop admiring you from afar and just ask you out for a drink.

Oakley from Unrelated

Oakley having a crush on you would include him doing a lot of tricks to impress you (like backflips in the air or putting out a match with his tongue). He'd love to show off in front of you, even if it means his friends teasing him about it. He'd flex his muscles (he has them, right?), brag about how good of a swimmer he is, and act like he's not afraid of any challenge.

Behind doors, he'd also do a lot of the cheesy things, like writing your first name with his last name in a notebook, or listing everything he likes about you.

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

Thomas having a crush on you would include him stealing glances at you from across the ballroom while you socialize with other guests. In public, Thomas would do a double take whenever you walked by.

Even though his sister keeps an iron grip on Thomas, he would still find a way to offer you compliments. He would tell you about the beautiful color of your eyes, the loveliness of your hairstyle, and the aesthetic appeal of your outfit.

And in private, he would write letters addressed to you - letters that he may or may not ever send to you, letters entailing each and every thing he enjoyed about you, letters that described everything he wished to do with you. One of the letters consisted of his wish to dance with you under the stars of Paris, and hold you in his arms while you gazed at the Eiffel tower.

Jaguar!Tom Hiddleston

Tom doesn't have "crushes"; he's a pretty guarded person, so he either falls hard, or not at all.

Tom being interested in you would include him bringing you plenty of luxurious gifts (Godiva chocolates, Chanel perfume, the latest designer gowns, your own 2-bedroom flat in London) and making time for you in his busy schedule.

He wold always have his chauffeurs pick you up from work/school, just to make sure that you're in safe hands.

When you're together, Tom would enjoy stealing an occasional kiss and surprising you with romantic gestures. On your birthday, he made entire city blackout except for London Bridge, which was lit up in your favorite color. He even booked a private theater just for the two of you, and had a showing of your favorite movie or play.

And if anyone tries to hit on you or be inappropriate with you? Be prepared to hear about their "mysterious disappearance" on the news the next day.

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demigoddessqueens · 2 years

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Ep 4 reminded me of a certain other TH period drama character

#tvedit #filmedit #perioddramaedit #Tom hiddleston #will ransome x you #will ransome x reader #will ransome x y/n #will ransome #crimson peak #the essex serpent #sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x you #Thomas sharpe x y/n #filmgifs #gifs #moviegifs #filmtv

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wheredafandomat · 2 years

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It’s a sin

Reader x Will Ransome

A/N: After the last episode, I felt compelled to write this 😂 hope you enjoy

Contains smut

“Tell me father, where is your god now?” You questioned, sitting at the church pew facing the desolate darkness that used to glisten before a thick evil settled over the once quiet town. You could hear him stepping towards you cautiously, the once confident man reduced to bated breathing and small steps. He was thinking. Thinking about what to say, how he’d console you. Glancing to your left, you saw his leather shoes as he came to a halt.

“One must remain faithful in times of such distress.” Will spoke, sitting next to you.

“Where has faith gotten us father? I am to believe in something of fiction to protect me?” You laughed mirthlessly “I’d rather a revolver.”

“Y/n, he will protect us.” Will implored, turning to face you slightly but you could hear it in his voice, it wasn’t only you he was trying to convince.

“You put so much trust in something you are yet to encounter.” You spoke, still looking forwards, aware of Wills eyes on you.

“You know not what you speak of.” He scoffed, turning to look forwards again.

“Then tell me father, show me, show me how one goes about encountering the saviour. Share your faith, bless me because I have lost it, I am no longer a believer.” You confessed. A silence fell between you both before you stood. “I must go.”

“No.” Will said, grabbing your hand as you walked past him. You looked down at your interlocked hands before your eyes settled on his ones. He was pleading. They were the eyes of someone as unfaithful as you.

“You’ve lost it father, I can see it.” You said, leaning closer towards him as he tilted his chin upwards to look at you. “You’ve lost your faith, you aren’t the believer you once used to be.” You uttered, face inches away from his. “You mustn’t fear it, embrace it father, let it drown you, live with the knowledge that the higher power you claim watches over us simply doesn’t exist.” You murmured. You could feel his breath fanning your face from the close proximity. His eyes focused on yours as if you were offering him council, hope. He wanted to be strong, resist temptation, drown himself in disbelief even if only for a moment but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t.

“Leave.” He spoke just above a whisper causing you move your face an inch closer. “Leave.” He repeated sternly as your lips quirked into a smile. “Get out!” He ordered, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

“Farewell father.” You smirked, spinning on your heels to leave. Will didn’t dare turn to watch you go. He knitted his brows trying to quickly work through his conflicting feelings as his breath quickened. Standing up, he stepped closer towards the alter as his jaw clenched. Where was his god? His strength? His eyes met the serpent engraved into the church pew. He bared his teeth in anger as his nostrils flared. Practically crashing to the floor, his hand curled into a fist before he struck it. All his anger, pent up frustration, rushed towards his hand as he struck it again. The one thing keeping him tethered to the ground was his faith and even that was now in question. He grunted as he continued to hit it.

Exiting the church, you felt the urge to turn back and go inside to at least apologise. You knew Will was under a lot of pressure following the events of late and yet you felt the need to burden him with your lack of faith. It wasn’t his fault. Sighing, you decided you’d write a letter as opposed to turning back in but then you heard the sound of him grunting, shouting as if he was in a fight but no other voice could be heard. You quickly turned around and walked back into the church to find Will on his knees, hand connecting with the wooden pew stained crimson from his blood. You quickly made your way towards him, falling to the floor as you grabbed his hand to stop him from hurting himself further. He seemed more lost than you originally though.

“Will. Will! Stop this!” You urged, holding his cheeks and forcing him to look at you when he broke free of your grip on his hand. “Look at me Will.”

Snapping out of his daze, Will looked at you, features softening. He looked down at his hand, wincing when he saw the blood spilling from it. Tearing a bit of the bottom of your dress, you wrapped it around his hand as you tried to calm him but he didn’t want to be calmed. He pushed you away, taking the material off of his hand as he stood up. You called his name as he inaudibly recited scriptures. You panicked, he seemed so far gone, so lost, you needed to help him, you had to help him, bring him from his haze.

Standing up, you placed your hand at the back of his head, pulling him down closer towards you as you kissed him. Almost instantly, his eyes opened as he stepped backwards. You looked at him, realisation of your actions flooding you. You took a step to leave but Will stopped you, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you towards him as he kissed you again. You kissed him back, lips moving over one another’s. Your hands roamed one another’s bodies as you continued to kiss, Wills tongue slipping past your lips and into your tongue. You moaned into the kiss as his hand found your breasts, lightly squeezing them. Your hands caressed his cheeks before one found his hair as you gently tugged it. Lips never leaving yours, he walked you backwards until the back of your legs met the wood of the pew. You fell back against it, pulling Will on top of you.

He fell on top of you as the kiss turned more feverish. Lips leaving yours, he began peppering kisses on your neck as you writhed beneath him. Moving lower, he pulled the hem of your dress upwards exposing your legs. You widened them as he continued moving lower, settling between them. You gasped as you felt his lips on your thighs. You could feel yourself growing wetter, more wanton as his head moved closer towards your core. Sitting slightly up, you watched Will as he hooked his thumbs under the hem of your underwear before he began pulling them down, tapping your thigh, prompting you to lift your hips as he pulled them down your thighs before dragging them down your legs, discarding them onto the floor. You watched as his gaze focused between your legs. His head once again settled between your thighs as he licked a wide, wet stripe from your entrance towards your clit causing you to jolt beneath him in pleasure. Lifting his head up, he grinned at you before looking back down and repeating the action. Your hand found the back of his head when his tongue began circling your clit. Soft moans escaped you feeling him alternating between sucking and flicking your clit. The familiar pressure built up in your lower abdomen, so close to the edge until Will stopped.

“Willl.” You whined, chest heaving as he sat slightly up. Your eyes roamed his body before they settled on the bulge being shielded by his trousers. “Please.” You prompted, slightly lifting your hips. One of his hands pushed you back down as the other one quickly undid his trouser button as he unsheathed himself. You swallowed thickly taking in the sight of his cock springing free. He looked down at you, into your eyes as opposed to your no doubt glistening folds. “Please.” You repeated, nodding your head. Wasting no time, he guided himself towards your entrance before slowly thrusting inside causing you both to moan. Your eyes shut tightly as he stilled inside you, allowing you to adjust to his size. You couldn’t recall a time you had ever felt so full. Will was definitely well endowed.

Will waited patiently for you to give him some sort of signal that you either wanted him to stop or to move. Looking down at you beneath him, he saw you nod, eyes still closed before he began to move his hips. At first his strokes were slow and long, both of you simply revelling in the feeling as opposed to chasing a release. His pubic bone met your clit with each thrust causing you to fall further down the well of euphoria. You could hear the sinful sounds of him entering you. Opening your eyes, you took in the view of him above you, eyes closed as your name fell from his lips. After a while, he increased his movements, head falling into the crook of your neck as he left open mouthed kisses across it.

“Yess Will, right thereee.” You moaned as he ground his hips down into yours, hitting that perfect spot. His pace quickened as he continued to slam into you causing you to moan his name rather loudly as if the outside world seized to exist. In this moment it was only you and Will. “I’m sooo closeee.”

“Let go, let go I want to feel you cum around me.” He spoke in your ear before licking the shell of it. As if his words were a stern order, you felt yourself climaxing, coating his cock. Will continued to move in and out of you hungrily feeling the urge to cum too. The feeling of your walls clamping around him spurred his own orgasm as he came, ejaculating inside of you. He stilled, filling you up as you both caught your breaths back. Coming back down from your highs, your eyes opened as Will pulled his head up from the crook of your neck and looked into your eyes, his eyes widening as if he had just realised what had happened. You looked up at him, guilt consuming you before you saw his gaze focus on something else. His expression changed to a fearful one.

“Will? Will?” You called, looking up at him as your hands found his cheeks. “What is it?”

“The serpent.” He breathed “the serpent is real.”

#the essex serpent #will ransome #will ransome x you #will ransome x y/n #tom hiddleston characters #will ransome x female reader #will ransome fanfiction #will ransome imagine #The Essex Serpent

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goldpomegranates · 2 years

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Some Sacred Shore

Will Ransome / Male!Reader

Rated E for religious imagery, allusions to period typical attitudes towards homosexuality, and explicit sexual content. Wordcount: 3.9k Also on AO3.

Luke Garrett's invitation to a birthday party in Essex seemed uncharacteristic, and upon your arrival you find that the intention was to pit you against the village vicar in a contest of intellectual wit. Fortunately, the guests are too preoccupied to lend both of you much attention. Unfortunately, the reason for Father Ransome choosing to live out in the marshes of Aldwinter becomes abundantly clear.

† † †

The news that reached London had been unbelievable at first. Rumors of mythical beasts were nothing novel, your cousin having written you about the alleged hellhounds of Dartmoor just last year—but even tales of murderous serpents paled to the news that arrived from Essex on that dreary Monday morning. Atop your desk, written in fine cursive made slanted by haste, was an invitation. A birthday party for Michael’s widow, hosted by none other than Luke Garrett himself.

It was as odd as it was scandalous. Mrs Seaborne, more sentient trophy than woman, had never been one for parties. She was reclusive, quiet, hung on Michael’s arm with a thousand-kilometer stare that sat well with no one who noticed her reticent demeanor. Honestly, the invitation carried the stench of Garrett’s ulterior motives, scoundrel that he was, more than it did any genuine desire for celebration. While there were a million and one things you would rather do than hop on a train down to Essex, you had promised Spencer an attempt to integrate yourself into the social circles of doctors and academics in hopes of climbing the ladder of success.

And so, overnight bag packed and donning your finest suit, you made for the station.

† † † † † †

Aldwinter is, to put it nicely, a mess of a village. No amount of sidestepping spared your shoes from a muddy demise, and no amount of scrubbing them against the house’s edge could make them suitable to be worn indoors. But you weren’t raised an animal, and so you ask the nearest person who looks the vaguest bit familiar to fetch you a rag.

“You can just take your shoes off and leave them by the door. Half the people in here have already shed their dignity alongside their jackets,” said a woman with arms crossed over her chest and thick eyebrows raised. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Martha.”

You give her your name and offer a hand, which she takes in a firm grip. “I’m a friend of Dr Spencer. I must confess that I’m not entirely sure why Garrett extended me an invitation, but I’m appreciative of the opportunity to be here.”

And speaking of the devil. “You!” Garrett shouts from across the small room, twirling away from Mrs Seaborne in a half-drunken stumble, wine glass in hand. “My friend, I am absolutely delighted you could make it.” He swings an arm around your shoulders in overconfident camaraderie, patting your back. “Make yourself at home. There are drinks in that direction, the birthday girl is over there, Spencer’s around here somewhere but….but.” Garrett pauses, leans in conspiratorially. “You see that man over there? The one in the stuffy suit?”

You follow the direction he’s pointing towards, and you see him, leaning against a door frame, awkwardly sipping his drink. Tall, windswept despite the obvious attempt at personal grooming, the most well-dressed in a house filled with already over-dressed people.

“That,” Garrett whispers, “is Will Ransome. And he’s the reason why you’re here.”

You fix him with an impassive glare. “That’s it? Not because I’m a joy to have?”

Martha hides a laugh behind her hand. “Oh, I quite like you.”

Garrett lifts a finger. “You’re a philosopher,” he says, still clinging to you. His breath reeks of alcohol. “A brilliant one, so I’ve been told. All that deep-rooted nonsense of what we are and what have you… He. That man. He’s a vicar.”

It’s your turn to laugh, both with surprise and mild confusion. One never expects to see a man of God at a party, especially not one this rowdy. “Let me guess. You want me to engage him in conversation.”

“Exactly!”

“Why?”

“He has a way with words. Simple, sure, but inspired. I want to see him sweat, see how good his belief is when pitted against the scholarly.”

“You brought me here to antagonize a pastor,” you say, peeling Garrett’s arm off you. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

“Oh, come now. It’s all in good fun! Martha, tell him.”

“I think you’ve lost your mind,” she tells Garrett. “Go. Cora’s waiting for that sixth dance you promised her this evening.” He disappears into the sparse crowd like he had never accosted you. “He’s had a bit too much to drink,” Martha says, “not that I blame him. Can I get you anything?”

Your shoes still on and frankly ruffled by the exchange, you nod. “I would like a glass of water, please.”

† † † † † †

The jaunty music and raucous laughter are more than you care for, and after giving Mrs Seaborne the impersonal gift you purchased for her from Hatchard’s, you’re ready to call it an evening and head back to the pub for the night. Your plan is thwarted however, by a knock on the kitchen door.

The vicar has to duck his way into every room, and he does so with the grace of an adolescent goat. He’s no posh bastard from the Westminster elite, and no amount of cleaning up can disguise how easy it is to picture him knee deep in mud. He greets you by name with an inquisitive arch of his eyebrows.

“Father Ransome,” you greet in turn. “A pleasure.”

“Please, just Will.”

“Have you been enjoying the evening?” you say, moving to refill your cup. “You seem to be faring better than I.”

“Not by any choice of my own. First, it was my wife who argued we stay for Cora’s sake. And then it was Dr Garrett who was most insistent that I converse with you.” Will holds up his glass to you, and despite the traces of wine still in it, you top it off with water. “Thank you.”

“I assume he’s told you all about me.”

“Only that you’re a student of philosophy. Quite the genius.”

“But…?”

Will’s mouth twists into an unpleasant half-smile. “I believe he thinks I'm illiterate.”

“Luke is a well-traveled man, and his fault is believing he knows all because of it,” you say. “He operates on one heart, and he thinks himself better than God.” You watch him intently, and marvel at his lack of affront. “As for you. You could have been a man of law, I’ve been told, but instead you turned towards faith. I’m unsure if that is wise or foolish given the times we are living in.”

“Do Plato and Aristotle offer comfort in the face of adversity?”

“Somewhat. I choose to find the comfort hidden in logic. There is strength in thought, understanding in enlightenment. I am faced with a serpent, and I do not declare that there is no such thing due to lack of evidence. Our fears and perceptions are powerful enough to make even the fantastical real.”

Will looks down at his glass, nodding thoughtfully. “Then how to differentiate between logic-based serenity and self-realization in the absence of concepts that transcend life?”

You don’t mean to gawk, hiding the ungainly expression behind a cough. “You’re much more well-read than even I gave you credit for.” Unlike Garrett, Will does not look smug. “I didn’t expect a vicar to wield the words of Nietzsche. What’s that parable about biting into the fruit of knowledge? Something about the original sin?”

“Familiar with Scripture, I see.”

“Only the basics.” The water on your tongue is blissfully cold, staving off the heat of too many people in a small space. From somewhere in the living room, Mrs Seaborne laughs, and you notice the way Will flinches at the sound. He fidgets with his glass, and it does not take a genius to put two and two together. “Why don’t we step outside? I could use the fresh air.”

Surprised by the simplicity of your proposal, Will agrees.

† † † † † †

You walk, and you listen.

The night sky is lit a radiant blue, more aqueous than the marsh you tread upon. Wisps of atmosphere cut through it like eels in search of sustenance, bringing the firmament to life. You’ve never seen anything like it, not in London, not anywhere. But the color, that stunning hue of blue, is eerily similar to that of the vicar’s eyes.

He’s a brilliant man, deceptively educated, with a fountain of knowledge nestled between his temples. He weaves truths both personal and universal, engaging in topics that would cow a lesser man of the cloth. You can see why Ambrose mourned yet respected Ransome’s decision to join the church, to move out into the middle of nowhere where people lose themselves to the whims of superstition.

“—and, quite frankly, I’m at a bit of a loss,” he says, digging at his bow tie to loosen it. “It’s as if I have been abandoned, set adrift, unable to navigate the waters I once knew so well.” Will laughs, quietly, and it’s a mirthless sound. “My apologies. I must be boring you.”

“Not at all. There is understanding that can be gained from listening in on others’ misfortunes,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. “Did these trials and tribulations begin when Mrs Seaborne arrived in Essex?”

Will stops in his tracks and gazes out towards the water. Neither of you brought your coats, and you’re beginning to feel the evening chill seep into your bones. He seems unbothered by it, however.

“I’m… unsure,” he says, and you find his lack of denial curious. “A man gleans nothing from avoiding judgment. The least he can do is renounce his sins once he’s acknowledged them.”

“And what sins need a vicar acknowledge?”

Will looks up, and a hint of shame slithers its way down your throat. He cuts a beautiful albeit tragic silhouette against the penumbra of that late hour, and you can’t help but stare. Out here, he does not look like a man of God. He is merely a man dressed in his Sunday best, a bit inebriated, searching for answers on how to best help his village. A quasi-reluctant patriarch; or, at least, one that can use a moment’s respite.

“There is no serpent,” he says, shutting his eyes, “but I can still feel its unrelenting hold on me. The fear is sickly sweet, the uncertainty oily on my skin. I long for the calm that reigned before all of this began. I long for the simplicity of Sunday service followed by supper and a meaningless walk along the shore.” Will heaves a sigh and casts you a fleeting glance. “I long… I long for the time when my flesh wasn’t so weak to temptation.”

You shove your hands into your pockets before walking down the bank to him. “A man of God is, in the end, still just a man. And his conversations with said God are of no one else’s concern. I understand that He has the ability and mercy to forgive.”

Will’s exhale mists the air. “The sentence for premeditation is far more severe.”

“Perhaps in human law.”

His expression speaks to a profound sense of torment that no man should shoulder alone. You know of pastors that have committed much more heinous crimes with less weight on their conscience, but you ascribe Will’s guilt as the mark of a good person. He is trying, he is failing, and you are riddled with compassion.

You look over your shoulder, at the house in the distance whose interior is filled with warmth and cheer, a beacon out in the stormy sea. The rest of the world, in its bleakness, is where you have always stood, where Will has deliberately waded out to. There is something missing here, something you cannot put a finger on, or, rather, something you’re too skeptical to even consider.

But your ability to tell is yet to be wrong.

You can see it in Garrett, in the way he latches to women yet prefers the company he shares in with Spencer. You saw it in how Martha looked at Mrs Seaborne. Staring at Will, thinking back to his beautiful wife and lively children, you can feel the flicker of a flame pushing towards the realization.

“What is a man like you really doing, hiding out in the marshes?” you say, starting towards the pier, your back to him to allow him a moment to collect himself.

Will doesn’t answer, but he follows.

It’s dark beneath the deck, and you’re mindful not to get caught in the fishing nets abandoned for the night. The bright sky allows enough light for you to see, and the position in relation to the house grants you privacy. The briny air is infinitely better than the London smog you have grown accustomed to over the years, and while you prefer the gentle smells of lavender and bergamot that permeate a well lived-in home, the setting could be much worse.

Beneath the weathered wood as the tide rises, Will considers you with a wary side-glance. His nerves betray his carefully guarded secret because an invert will always recognize an invert. It’s a good hiding place, if unoriginal. Ignore the sin, pretend to be normal, pray to God for serenity.

The cotton of his shirt is stiff and scratchy, a suit seldom worn, and you wonder how he looks dressed down in homey linen. He likely returns to his house covered in mud, rugged for a vicar, and your imagination has always been both your most intimate friend and traitorous enemy. Your palm presses against his chest, fingers fanning out and catching on the buttons, and the faintest pressure has Will leaning backwards, his back pressed up against a pier.

He breathes heavy, chest fluttering as he braces his hands against the wood behind him, eyes shut tight.

“Blame it on me,” you say, stepping up to him until you’re toe to toe. You pinch a side of his bow tie, tugging on it until he finally looks at you. “Sometimes, collapsing an infected lung is the only way to cure it.

Will stammers but you silence him with a kiss, his thin lips pressed firm together to deny you further invitation. His hands clasp your biceps, and you wait for the inevitable, for him to shove you away, to sneer at your abhorrent behavior, to cross himself and run off to his church and beg for forgiveness—but it never comes. Will holds you in place, at a respectable distance. His mouth does not move, and you debate whether or not he’s actually breathing, but that too withers into surrender when your hand not pinning him to the pier comes up to carefully stroke his cheek.

“You’re the Devil,” he says, nuzzling into your hand with a shuddering sigh.

You laugh and kiss him once again. This time, he reciprocates with no shortage of hesitation. “You don’t believe that,” you say, taking your lips to where the collar of his shirt meets feverishly warm skin, “just how you don’t believe in a serpent bringing out the worst in your flock.”

The grip on your arms ease, Will’s thumbs rubbing circles over the fabric of your jacket. He brings you closer, chests pressed together, and you look up at him, marveling, slightly flustered at the intensity of his attention. “I shouldn’t,” he says with a lick of the lips, eyes dimming with raw desire. “We should get back. You’re shivering. And the tide is—” Will trails off into a heavy sigh, your leg slipping between his and pressing up against his groin. “Please.”

You unbutton his jacket, your hands roaming to drink in the heat he emanates while you pepper kisses along the underside of his chin, enjoying the feeling of his beard. You live for the sensation, for the roughness that accompanies tender exchanges. “Please, what, Father?” You embrace him, hold him tightly, whisper hotly into his ear. “Whatever is said, whatever we do, shall stay between us and God.”

Will surges forward, his mouth on yours with uncontained fervor, desperate whines drowned out by the wind rippling the water. His hands cradle your face, a touch both grounding and fleeting, as his teeth graze your bottom lip. You open for him, for his kiss, his tongue, and it is your turn to fall into the maw of unbridled lust. Cold water against your shoes proves to be a ticking clock.

You shove him against the pier again and Will gives, legs parting just enough to accommodate you between them. His hands float along the parts of you he can reach yet hesitate at your hips. You pause with a grin, pressing your nose to his. “Go on.”

A brief hint of embarrassment flashes in Will’s eyes, but he’s too far gone to give it further thought. Calloused hands grope your ass and you moan, rutting up against him to feel the bulge in his pants press against your groin. It robs you both of breath, suffuses you both with heat, and you take. You take without holding back.

You loosen your tie as Will fumbles with his pants, pulling his erection free and giving it a generous stroke, eyes fluttering shut once more. You watch him, the pinched set of his brow and the tight frown, the way his shoulders shake. Those last dredges of reluctance fighting a losing battle.

“It’s called free will for a reason,” you say. “You have the power to walk away.”

He shakes his head, swallowing with an audible click. “I need you,” he whispers, the sound nearly swept away by the breeze.

The confession rests heavy in your chest, the delirious hunger of a handsome stranger who, in another lifetime, you would have courted. But as it stands, he is a man of God, a married one at that, and while you have never sunk this low you wonder why the grip he has around your heart is as powerful as it is.

You distract him with a kiss, a long and languid one that grows messy, with spit gathering for either of you to lap up with debauched abandon. You wrap a hand around his cock and swallow his shocked moan, settle between his thighs as you fumble with your own fly. “Quiet,” you say, shimming until you’re pressed just right to slip him between your thighs. “Sound carries.”

Will nods but it’s a thoughtless gesture, his arms wrapping around your back to hold you tightly to him, face buried against the crook of your neck. He pants as his hips stutter forward, aborted little sounds falling out of him as you counter his thrusts with stilted movements of your own. You squeeze your legs tighter and he whimpers, fingertips scrambling across your back.

A hand wraps around your own prick and you startle, surprised that he even has the forethought to return the pleasure. Will’s hold is awkward, unpracticed, but you forgive it. You can’t help the moan that bubbles out of you, and neither can you ignore the sudden trace of wetness his cockhead leaves between your thighs.

“I wish I could take you properly,” you tell him, and his pace falters, frantic. “Undressed, beneath me, slick you with oil.” You chuckle. “Anoint you.” Will’s teeth latch onto your shoulder and it’s almost enough to push you over the edge, but not quite. “Would you go to your knees for me, Father? Let me bestow upon you a true sense of rapturous ecstasy?”

“Please,” he mutters, moving to press his forehead to yours, wide eyes unfocused, not a hint of blue left in them. “Please.” You grip his wrist. “What? What is it?”

Straining to listen, only the distant sound of a jaunty tune reaches your ears. You give his hip enough of a push to dislodge him, and Will looks devastated by the loss of contact. However, you do not give him the chance to speak his piece. With a firm hand on his shoulder, you give him a look that leaves no room for misunderstanding.

Water laps at your ankles, and ruins Will’s pants as he goes to his knees before you.

His hair is soft as it spills through your fingers, giving it the gentlest tug that has him panting for more. You trace your thumb down his cheekbone, your touch worshipful, driven to speechlessness at how beautiful he truly is. Will is painfully vulnerable, surrendering more than just his body to you at the very moment.

Dragging a fingertip along his bottom lip, you encourage him to open his mouth. He obeys, hands clasped at his lap in involuntary prayer. You feed him, placing yourself on his tongue and ordering him to hold, to commune with his god before taking it into his belly. The good reverend remains still, eyes open, awaiting his deliverance.

Fingers tight in his hair, you push your hips forward until he hums a complaint, his breaths coming in short huffs through his nose as you sink all the way in. You hold him there, his mouth spread wide around you. He’s tight, hot, and wet, and your thighs quiver from the profanity of it. This blasphemous encounter out in the marshes, beneath a bright sky, away from God’s eyes.

“Please yourself,” you tell him, easing back just enough for him to cough with relief. “Think of my hand, or my mouth on you in turn.”

You brace your free hand against the pier, the other still in his hair as you hear rather than see Will stroking himself at a punishing pace. His moans around you send shocks of electric delight up your spine, turning your limbs to liquid as you draw your pleasure from him, and him from you.

You make sure to stifle his sounds by being deep in his mouth, nudging the back of his throat, when he climaxes. Each grunt is punctuated by a rough jerk of his arm, a sound so guttural you find yourself nearing your own orgasm. You offer Will a small mercy, unaccustomed as he is, by withdrawing and taking yourself in hand.

His eyes are wide and gleaming, jaw slack as he gazes up at you in abject exaltation, as if you have offered him his salvation. And that is enough. You stroke yourself to completion, spilling across his swollen lips and reddened face. Will makes no move to wipe himself clean, just allows your essence to dribble down his chin and onto his shirt, rendering every piece of his suit ruined.

The tide is coming in, the water refusing to wait for two sinners to gather the courage, or the want, to pray for forgiveness. What is done and is done, and in the ebb of lust comes the twinge of guilt—not for any religious figure, not for the church, but for those who must never learn of this encounter. When clarity sets, your heart aches for the man who holds onto your coattails, shivering from the cold both external and inside.

No amount of wine can fix the vicar. No amount of prayer can change the societal standards that must be abided by. But here, beneath a pier in Aldwinter, at least a shred of comfort can be shared between two men who cannot change fate.

#the essex serpent #will ransome #will ransome x reader #male reader #will ransome x you #tom hiddleston #c's writing.#crosspost #reader insert #will ransome imagine

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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months

Text

I’m Not Supposed to Play with Boys

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

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: Explicit

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

Word Count: 3.6K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yes!”

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

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

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

——

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

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

“Did I make you mad, Princess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you call me?”

“Daddy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep. Fall right on my dick.”

——

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. But it feels good.”

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

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

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

BOOM, “Daddy!”

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

BOOM! POP! “Daddy!”

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

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

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

“Yes! Daddy, I wanna come!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy’s cumdump?”

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

“Daddy's pretty little cum princess.”

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

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

“Just daddy’s.”

“Unless daddy wants to share?”

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

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

“Right. Shh.”

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

Masterlist

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

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

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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

Text

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?

warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived.

As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods.

After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.”

You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.

Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”

It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her.

“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news.

Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”

“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse.

Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside.

“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”

It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt.

Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face.

Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before.

Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back.

Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”

He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?”

You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow.

Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”

You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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holdmytesseract · 3 months

Note

Yay open requests! :)

Hmmm, I want to see you write a one-shot where the Reader is a travelling actor who comes to Aldwinter to perform for the town with her troupe, and Will Ransom of course becomes romantically fascinated by the reader while she's there. That's all, I'll let you determine how far it goes between them. ^_^

And if I may be selfish, maybe make the Reader a larger-sized redhead (like me) haha

Attraction

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Summary: When a travelling actor comes to Aldwinter, Will is completely swept off his feet; hit by the arrow of love.

Warnings: mutual pining (sort of)? fluff, lil' bit of suggestive smut - blink and you'll miss it, not exactly a happy end - but there's hope! tell me if I missed something!

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: Sorry this took me so long, friend! 🥺 I really hope you like this! It's been a while since I lastly wrote for Will, but I tried my best. 🧡

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @captain-camille @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @coldnique @eleniblue @frzntrx @huntedmusicgardenn @mochie85

Masterlist

Will's eyes roamed the quite big crowd of people, as he stepped carefully down the few steps which led to the altar. On a Sunday mass like today, the little chapel Reverend Ransome called his own, was always bustling with people. Something which made the vicar very happy. He gave friendly, confident looks left and right, as he made his way down the aisle and stopped close to the door. It was a tradition for him to personally see off his churchgoer.

After all, they were his sheep - and he was the sheepherder.

Once almost everyone had bid their goodbyes and only a few people were left, Will suddenly recognised another familiar face within the small group of people... And he was the last one to stand up from the pew.

"Dear Sir Ambrose!" Reverend Ransome called out his old friend with a smile. "What takes you to Aldwinter on this rainy Sunday? I haven’t seen you around in months!" Charles laughed and grabbed the hand of his friend; shaking it thoroughly. "Well... I had to go to Essex anyway this weekend. Business trip," he said; winking. "Therefore, I decided to go to mass in Aldwinter and visit my friend!"

"Well, I am delighted to see you, Charles." "So am I."

The two men talked for a bit. About everything and anything, until... "Charles, I know you well... This business trip and the want to visit me can't be the only reason you're here..." Charles laughed up again; clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You indeed know me well, William. These are truly not the only reasons... Let us sit down."

Will let himself guide to a pew by Ambrose, before they sat down beside each other.

"I have something you might be interested in... It concerns the children in school, here in Aldwinter." Will nodded; pricking up his ears at the word 'children'. "I am all ears, Charles."

"Our children came home from school last week - entirely excited and happy, and when my dear wife asked what was going on, they told her about how they had been visited by a wonderful lady and her troupe. They said they told them stories - bible stories, but not only through words... They dressed up and did a play! Like in a theatre! Can you imagine, Will!"

The vicar's eyes went wide in fascination, wonder and excitement. "Charles, that... That is fascinating!" The man beside him nodded. "It truly is. I soke out the lady and her troupe, of course and she would be willing to make a stop in Aldwinter, too - next week! They're heading to Essex anyway. What do you say? I thought it would be great for the children here."

Will smiled and nodded. "Yes, please do so. That would be indeed wonderful." Charles smiled. "Great! I am going to contact the dear lady then and tell her to ask for revered Will Ransome when in Aldwinter.

Aldwinter was a sweet, cosy village. You had to admit that. Sure, it could be cold and rainy - like you heard, but summers here were wonderful.

The warm sun was shining on your face, as you walked together with your troupe towards the tavern Sir Ambrose told you to go and where you could stay during your time in Aldwinter. With curious eyes, you looked around. You had never been here before. You never were long at the same place, after all. As a travelling player, you were one day here and the next day miles away - but you wouldn't want it any other way. It was the life you chose and loved with all your heart.

After the kind woman described the way, you walked the short distance to the church; hoping that you took the right paths. You did. Seeing the elderly, but beautifully crafted building, you smiled and tuck a strand of loose red hair nervously out of your face and cautiously stepped through the wooden doors. There was no one to be seen.

Once you reached said tavern, you told your fellow companions to go and settle, while you would meet the contact person Ambrose arranged for you.

"Excuse me?" You approached the lady in a dress and apron, as she cleaned up some tables in said tavern. At your words, she looked up to face you. "Yes?" You gave her a gentle smile. "I'm looking for reverend Ransome... Do you know where I can find him?" "Sure, miss. You'll most likely find him in the church at this time of the day." "And how do I get to the church? Apologies, I've never been in Aldwinter before." "Oh that's not a problem, miss." The lady smiled and put her rag away; wiping her hands on her apron. "The church is not difficult to find..."

"Apologies, Miss. I was up the stairs; sorting some things. I didn't hear you right away."

"Hello?" You called out; walking down the aisle. "Mr. Ransome?"

Just when you were about to call out again, you heard some rustling coming from another room; probably the backroom and only mere seconds later there were steps. They grew louder and louder, until they revealed the man you had been searching for - or well, told to go to...

... and you had expected a lot, but certainly not that.

Reverend William Ransome sounded to you like you were going to be face to face with an elderly, friendly man with glasses; perhaps in his fifties. You were wrong... Oh so wrong...

You swallowed; were taken aback by the man's beauty. You had never seen a more stunning man than him - and you had seen a lot as an travelling actor...

In front of you stood a tall man in his late thirties, probably early forties. Longer, blonde-brown curls framed his face, which seemed to be carved out of marble. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, stunning blue eyes and perfectly shaped lips and nose. The beard covering his cheeks, chin and upper lip suited him without a doubt.

Will wore brown cord trousers which were attached to brown braces. Underneath those, was a puffy white shirt covering his upper body - but not entirely. Two buttons were undone; displaying a little bit of his chest and the fine, dark hairs which grew there.

"You must be the famous Miss Y/L/N." Will smiled and stretched out his hand. "Will Ransome. I'm the vicar of this cosy, little town." Still a bit stunned you placed your hand in his. Will brought it up to his lips; bestowing a small kiss upon your knuckles. His lips were so soft and gentle, you almost melted on the spot. His beard tickled your skin; leaving a burning sensation behind - in the best way possible.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Reverend." You smiled; trying to not lose your composure. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, indeed." The vicar smiled back at you; blue eyes sparkling. "The pleasure is mine."

Will offered you to sit inside his little office, so you could talk about the performance and when you and your fellow companions were ready to perform. You noticed that you got along very well with the man sitting opposite of you. Clearly, you were sharing a great chemistry. He was the sweetest, kindest and most polite man you ever met - and he seemed so enamoured with what you were doing for a living.

A date for the play was quickly settled... Tomorrow morning, as soon as the children finished school.

Will watched your every move; completely fascinated and enthralled. He hung on your every word.

Sure, he was watching all of the fantastic players; performing the story of Moses, but you... You were so special. Whenever you spoke, Will's eyes seemed to light up and he couldn't help the smile on his face.

The vicar didn't know what exactly it was that got him so hooked, but he couldn't deny it...

Was it your talent? Your passion? Your beautiful, kind and determined character? Was it your beauty itself? Perhaps all of it?

Will couldn't point it out.

"I-I wanted to-" Will had to clear his throat. "I wanted to ask, if you'd be interested in a little sightseeing tour through Aldwinter tomorrow?" He gave you a nervous smile. "That is very kind of you, Will, but... We actually don't stay longer than a few days at one place, so..." Will nodded. "I-I understand. But please... Just one more day. I'd like to give something in return for your wonderful work." You bit your lip; weighing your options, but then sighed.

After the show ended and all of the children had left with their parents and Will had bid them goodbye, he cautiously approached the woman he couldn't get off his mind again.

"Miss Y/N?"

His deep, yet smooth voice urged to your ears; causing you to smile as you packed your utensils together. "Yes, Mr. Ransome?" The vicar lifted a hand; "Please... Call me Will." smiling as well. "Will," you repeated - and caused Will's heart to speed up. Hearing you roll off his name from your tongue did something to the man of god.

"Alright. One more day."

The vicar smiled, "Thank you." and helped you to pack your troupes things together.

You watched him help Gabriel - one of your colleagues and couldn't help but smile. You've never met a kinder man in your life and you had to admit that you could not wait to spend the day with him tomorrow, but... Was it really a good idea?

While you spent the next day in Aldwinter, the others decided to go to Essex. Aldwinter was too boring for them - something you absolutely didn't agree with. Yes, the weather was moody and often not the best, but nevertheless was it a beautiful, cosy, little town. You liked it - and especially the vicar who lived there.

I could get used to this, you caught yourself thinking; immediately slapping yourself across the cheek - in your head.

You met Will rather late in the morning after breakfast. He had a few things to do - duties to follow as the people's reverend; therefore it was almost lunch time when he stood in front of your room at the tavern.

He showed you around - like promised. The beach. The sometimes quite scary and dangerous marshes. The beautiful forests and of course the town itself. Will introduced you to a few important people and in closing of the day, he invited you over to his little house for dinner.

You were completely amazed and excited about the fact that Will was an excellent cook. The Shepherd's Pie he cooked was delicious, and you dared to say like no other than you've eaten before.

His smile even widened.

Later that evening - it was already dark outside, you were seated beside him on his little sofa; a glass of wine in both his and your hands.

"Thank you for showing me your home, Will. Aldwinter is beautiful." You smiled and took a sip of your wine. The man reciprocated your smile; gave you a dazzling one of his own. "I'm delighted to hear that, Miss-" Y/N..." You interrupted him. "Call me Y/N."

"Y/N..." You nodded. "I really enjoyed it. The time we spent together." Perhaps was the alcohol you had consumed making you a little bold. "You are a very kind man, Will." He blushed, "Thank you, I... I am flattered." and inched closer to you. "And you are the most beautiful and talented woman I have ever met."

You blinked; were almost blushing, too. "Mr. Ransome are you... Are you trying to woo me?" A small, kind of nervous chuckle left the vicar's lips. "Perhaps."

You shook your head; drinking from the wine again. "But we hardly know each other..." "I-I know, but..." He swallowed. "You fascinate me, Y/N. You attracted my attention like no woman did before, I... I feel as if an invisible rope is pulling me to you. A higher power, which keeps on shoving me into your direction. I-I just... I can't help it. I feel myself utterly attracted to you."

Once again you started to shake your head, "Will... Stop it, please..." and sighed. "We can't give into this. I'm going to leave tomorrow and we'll probably never see each other again."

"Please..." The man beside you begged then; seeing how you struggled. Will wasn't a man who took advantage of this situation, but he felt how torn you were. How you actually wanted this and was just held back by the 'What if...'.

"We?" It was everything the vicar was focused on. "We can't give into this?"

You realised the mistake you made way too late.

"Does that mean you feel the same?" Will's heart sped up after those words left his lips. Words filled with hope.

"I-I-I..." You didn't know what to say. It was true, but you forbid your body to feel it; knowing exactly that it would only lead to pain.

He inched even closer, until your thigh almost touched his.

"Just one kiss..." The reverend whispered and before you could do or say something, your lips melted against his. Will sighed in the kiss; hands landing on your waist.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He said in a gentle voice, while he pulled you onto his lap.

You let it happen.

Just one kiss turned into two - and two turned into way much more, until-

Will closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn't a nightmare... Far from it...

Will ripped his eyes open, only to find himself breathing quick and heavy. Sweat pooled on his chest; coating the fine hairs growing there. His puffy night shirt was totally dishevelled - just like his hair.

The vicar sat up in bed. As he moved, he felt the tightness of his underwear and the straining arousal inside.

He had dreamed of her again. Y/N. The beautiful woman with flaming red hair and stunning Y/E/C. The woman who had fascinated him like no other, when she visited Aldwinter a few months back to perform a play with her troupe. The woman which whom he had spent a wonderful night with - and who had left him to live her dream and travel around the world as a player; leaving only a letter and her shawl behind.

Will smiled; remembering the words written on the piece of paper.

One day, l promise I'll come back to you - if you are willing to wait for me.

#the essex serpent #will ransome #will ransome x reader #will ransome x you #will ransome x y/n #will ransome fanfiction #the essex serpent fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston characters

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lokidbadguy · 1 year

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again, another edits of our lusty vicar, will ransome (tiktok doesn't appreciate this 😭👹)

#will ransome smut #will ransome fic #will ransome x reader #will ransome x you #will ransome #the essex serpent #lokisaidkneel #lokidbadguy

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babyjakes · 5 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | mutual masturbation

pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader

warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D

word count | 886

it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭

it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”

and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it

he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕

"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life

you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"

it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him

your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole

ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲

you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you

as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs

"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲

you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"

your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.

he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"

"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly

"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more

"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command

"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌

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krirebr · 5 months

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More Than This 1

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

Word Count: ~4.1k

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

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

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

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

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

“But you don’t like him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you whispered.

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

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

And then he was gone and you were alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two

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