#Ransom Thrombey blurb

[nickiewrites]

I’ll Get You. (Ransom Drysdale)

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Weed (very light), swearing (as per usual) 

Words: 1,988

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: I don’t even know how to summarize

A/N:

Again, I totally had a different plot for this and it kinda ended the way I wanted but not totally.

Also am having a hard time writing literally anything other than soft!Ransom for if that’s not what you’re looking for, this is not the place

~

I walked down the stairs of the large Victorian house. Each step creaking as my foot landed on old wood. A chill went through my body, my short pajamas not keeping me warm. I landed on the floor with a loud thud. I silently winced, not trying to wake everyone else in the house up. Looking up at the big grandfather clock, the time read 3:12 am.

The entire Thrombey family had been at the house for a birthday party. Harlan’s. My best friend, whom I met in college, Meg, invited me to come, wanting me to stay the night with her so we could spend some time together. I was always so busy with work and her with school, we hadn’t seen each other lately. It was my only free night of the week and her granddad’s birthday wasn’t going to stop it.

I was hesitant at first, not because of Meg, but her family. I would never say it too her, but her family was kind of… a lot. Her mom was all about her business, doing whatever it took to keep it afloat. Her one aunt and uncle, fighting with her other aunt and uncle about politics, business… or pretty much anything. Her younger cousin just sat there on his phone, listening in to conversations but never actually saying anything.

And then there was Ransom.

Meg’s older and oldest cousin, Mr. Ransom Drysdale.

God, he would probably cum in his pants just from me calling him that.

The first time I met Ransom was at one of Harlan’s book parties last year, just the one they have with the family. It was the first time Meg had asked me to meet her family. Of course, they were all on their best behavior, first impressions mean everything. Now, they didn’t care how they acted in front of me, just like I was part of the family. But not Ransom. He never cared.

Meg and I walked up the stairs, into the front doors. The door made a loud sound as it opened.

“Mom? Aunt Linda? Grandad?” Meg yelled through the house, closing the door behind us.

“Hi honey! We’re in the living room!” I heard a female voice echo.

We walked down the hall and into the fanciest living room I’d ever seen. Designer furniture, rugs to mach. I saw the swarm of people sat upon the items.

“Hello family!” Meg said, kissing her mom on the head. “This is my friend, Y/n. Y/n, you know my mother.” I smiled at Joni. “That,” she said, pointing to the far couch. “Is my Aunt Linda and Uncle Richard,” They smiled as I waved, “My other aunt and uncle, Walt and Donna, their son, my mute cousin Jacob,” I laughed a little. “My great nana,” Meg pointed to the woman sat next to her mother. “Marta, grandad’s nurse and one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet,” I waved at the girl as she waved back. “And this,” she pulled me over to the large chair in the center of the furniture, “Is granddad.”

I smiled, looking at the wholesome man. He held his hand out. “Hello dear, it’s nice to finally meet you. Meg’s told me so much about you.” He smiles and shakes my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too, nice to meet you all.” I looked over the room. “Thank you so much for letting me come tonight, really.” I said.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.” He said, letting go of my hand. “Sorry my other grandson isn’t here to meet you.” He says.

“Other grandson?” I said, not remembering Meg mentioning another cousin.

“It’s my older cousin, I’ve never mentioned him cause he’s kind of a- “

“Shit-bag.” I herd Richard blurt out. I whipped my head around just in time to see Linda smack him in the chest, Richard giving her a ‘what’ look.

“I was going to say dick but all’s the same.” Meg said.

“Our son,” Linda gestured to her and her husband, “Ransom.”

I was taken back a bit at his name.

“His actual name is Hugh, but he’s kind of a – “

“shit-bag?” I said.

Richard stood up from his seat and started to walk towards me. I was terrified he was going to scold me for calling his son an awful name. He stopped directly in front of me and paused for a minute.

“I like you.” He said before walking past me into the kitchen and the worried look on my face turned into a relieved one, as everyone around me started chuckling.

8:30pm rolled around and the party just felt like it was going on and on. I didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to be rude, but it was all the same. We had toasted to Harlan, his wok, had dinner and since 6pm, it had been drinking, mingling, arguing, over and over, in that order. I was about to head to the bathroom for the 4th time when I felt someone behind me. I turned around to see Meg.

“Wanna liven this party up?” She whispered.

“What?” I questioned, not sure exactly what she meant. Before I had time to respond, she grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hallway, into a room. In the room was Fran, the housekeeper. She turned around and handed Meg two rolls of white paper.

“Are you serious?” I whispered. “You want to smoke weed at a party with your whole family?”

“Not a lot, just enough to not make me want to die.” She giggled. She took one of the joints and waved it in front of my face. “I’m not saying you have too, but it’ll help.” Her tone of voice tempting.

I rolled my eyes and starred at her for a minute. She raised her eyebrow and I gave in, grabbed the roll out of her hand.

“Just a little bit.” I said. I held it up to my mouth as Meg grabbed the lighter from Fran and light the end. I held it in for a minute but even that was too much. I pulled it out of my mouth and started coughing. Much more than I usually do. I usually can’t do much, but I knew I could do more than this. I ran out of the room and scurried past the party of people and out the front door. I slammed the door and pushed my back against it, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, closing my eyes.

“Usually weed makes people more calm than anxious.”

A voice comes from the side of the house, making me jump again. A large figure comes out from the shadow, a 6 ft man, dark brown hair but clear blue eyes coming into view. He’s dressed in jeans and white sneakers, a blue t shirt to match and a light brown trench coat over top.

“What?” I said.

“I can smell the weed... all over you. Meg been pressuring you?”

“What?” I said again.

“Jesus you say that a lot.” He smirks.

I compiled my thoughts so I could form a word other than ‘what.’

“No, no. Usually I can do a pretty good amount but… this shit’s strong. I just needed a break.”

“So, you can... take a lot?” The corner of his mouth pulling up slightly.

My brain processed the sexual inuendo. “You must be Ransom.” I said.

“In the flesh. And you?”

“I’m Y/n. How did you know…”

“That your Meg’s friend? Again, I can smell it all over you.”

“Oh.” I laughed. “We really don’t do it that much.”

“Just at big parties with lots of people?”

“Why do you even care?” I said.

“Because… girls I fuck aren’t stoners.”

I would have spat my drink out if I had one.

“Oh, and who says I’m gonna fuck you?”

Ransom laughs. “Come on. I saw the way you looked me up and down. I know you want too.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” I said.

“The less, the better.”

“Your dad was right. You are a shit bag.” I said, turning towards the door and opening it. Ransom follows hot on my tail as I walk down the hall to Meg and Fran. Ransom stands at the door for a minute, following my movement before saying,

“I’ll get you, eventually.”

As he says it, I turn around and look at him, laughing and turning the corner.

I snapped myself out of thought when I heard beeping coming from the refrigerator, realizing I had been standing with the door open for at least 10 minutes. I ran my eyes up and down the shelves, looking for something snacky. I was about to pull something out when a voice spoke up, making my heart jump.

“Those aren’t good for you.” Ransom says, as I drop the cold Reese’s’ cups on the hardwood floor.

“Jesus Christ.” I say with gritted teeth.

“Not me, but I do make miracles happen.” He says, resting a hand on my back as I pick up my dropped food, his other on top of the door.

“What are you doing up?” I asked.

“I was coming down to your room, when I saw you leave, figure- nope. Knowing, you were going to get a snack... and when you didn’t come back for 10 minutes, I came to. investigate.” He says, taking a piece of candy from my hand, unwrapping it and popping it in his mouth.

“Why were you coming to my room?” I said, closing the door and walking over to the island.

Ransom looked down at his hands, silent as could be. “Hello?” I said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“I wanted to… cuddle.” He said under his breath.

I rolled my eyes. “Ransom, you come over to my house every night, sneak in my window and cuddle with me… every single night.” I giggled.

He huffed and his eyes got wide. “I know, I know. But you also know that... I can’t sleep without you.”

“You did it fine for the first 27 years of your life and suddenly the past 6 months, you’re sleep schedule just flips.” I said.

“That was before I met you.”

I scrunched my nose up, believing what I already knew to be true.

“I don’t understand you. Two months after we first meet, you come to me in the middle of the night, wanting to get away from your family. You end up staying the night and suddenly you can’t sleep well, you stop fucking random girls and you stare at me from across the room for hours when I come to one of your family’s get togethers. Who even are you?” I laugh.

Ransom stares at me, a serious look plastered across his face. I already knew what the look was. I knew what he wanted to tell me without even having to hear the words come out of his mouth.

I knew he loved me.

I pushed myself from the counter and grabbed him arm.

“Come on, it’s already almost 3:30. Meg usually sleeps till 10 so we only have like 5 hours.” I laughed, snaking my hand into Ransoms. I check in the room Meg is still fast asleep in. I quietly close the door and cross the hall and walk into Ransoms arms. He closes the door behind me. The bed hadn’t even been touched. I sighed to myself, pulling my side back. Ransom climbs in next to me, grabbing his phone and setting an alarm for 9:30. He returns it to its place on the bedside table and turns to me. I lift my head up and his arm snakes under it, his other wrapping around my middle, holding me tightly. I wrap my legs around his and stare at him, the moonlight letting me see enough of his face.

“I told you I’d get you.”

[mavsstar]

thinking about softdark!alpha!ransom x omega!reader

i might turn this into a series, not sure how many people would actually read it

Years later you return and Ransom recognizes your sweet scent of strawberries, vanilla and o. You're still all he thinks about as he would desperately try to find an omega just like you, but now that you're back he doesn't plan on letting you go. no matter what.

All of your friends had gone through their first ruts and heats but you haven't had any yet. Most people assumed you were a beta even though there hadn't been any in your family.

It wasn't until you had gone over to Ransom's house to keep him company while his parents were gone, that days before his rut was to begin, it triggered your heat. You couldn't resist each others scent and pounced on each other during your peaks, giving into your designations.

After it happened you guys couldn't stay away from each other. You were secretly seeing each other, until your father noticed a bit mark dangerously close to your mating gland. He immediately knew who it was and took you away.

Years later you return and Ransom recognizes your sweet scent of strawberries, vanilla and honey. You're still all he thinks about as he would desperately try to find an omega just like you, but now that you're back he doesn't plan on letting you go. no matter what.

not now. not ever.

[avenging-fandoms]

bestie if ransom was my best friends dad i'd fuck him every time i came over

you would have been best friends with his daughter since you two were in middle school, and now that she was getting married and you were her maid of honor you were around ransom a lot. 

one night when planning her bridal shower at ransom’s house, you got tipsy and she had to leave, leaving you with ransom. you fell asleep on the couch and he jumped slightly when he saw you on the couch. “yn?” he whispered and rubbed his hand over your forehead, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “come on, let’s get to bed”

the nap had sobered you up, and you looked up at ransom. “can i sleep in your bed?” you smile and he chuckles, scooping you in his arms and taking you to the guest bedroom. “wait, ransom. i wanna talk to you” 

“you’re not dropping out of the wedding, are you?” he sat next to you and you played with the button at the bottom of your flannel. you shook your head and looked up at him. “what’s up, yn?”

“i.. i’ve always.. had this crush on you. it sounds so stupid to say out loud, but my god, ransom. you are just..” his eyes got dark and you pushed a button out of your flannel, ransom licking his lips slowly. “so addicting” you leaned forward and kissed him hard, ransom holding your hips and pulling you onto his lap slowly. 

“yn.. i don’t want to do anything while you’re drunk” he mumbled against your mouth and you smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“i’m sober, i’m conscious of what i’m doing. and i’ve wanted to do this for a long time” you kissed him again, tugging his hair and moving your hips slowly. “take me to your bed”

“but we’re already on a bed” he mumbled on your lips and you bit his lip, pulling backwards. you kissed down his neck, hands rubbing up his back under his shirt. 

“i know, but i want to fuck you on your bed so you always remember fucking me on your sheets” you whispered and he quickly picked you up, taking you to his bed and putting you down on top of his sheets.

ransom’s hips pushed against your slowly as you pulled up his shirt, tossing it to the side. you bit your lip and whimpered, dragging your nails down his chest and toned muscles. your fingers grabbed his waistband of his pants and pulled him into you. 

ransom’s fingers toyed with your buttons before ripping your flannel, popping a few buttons and throwing it behind him. “no bra? fucking christ, you’re just asking for me, huh?” you nod and scratch down his back as his lips wrap around your nipple, his hand moving into your shorts and pushing his middle finger in between your folds. 

“fuck, ransom” you whimper and move your hips, pushing his hand deeper and guiding his index and ring fingers into you. he ripped off your shorts and underwear, pushing you to the pillows and laying in between your legs, he held your legs spread and wrapped his lips around your clit, tongue flicking in and out of your pussy. you gripped his hair and moved your hips against his tongue. 

“you taste just as sweet as you look” he smirked and kissed you, your feet pushing down his pants and underwear. you look at him and spit in your palm, wrapping your hand around his dick and he let out a breath. 

“your cock is so big, ransom, fuck” he pressed his forehead against yours, thrusting into your hand. “i want you to fuck me, ransom” he kissed you and sat up on his knees, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “i said fuck me ransom” you held his face and he clenched his jaw, thrusting into you and you gasped. “fuck, shit, fuck” you gasped and held his stomach, spreading your legs. 

“you feel so fucking good around my cock, fuck yes” he kissed you sloppily and you rolled over, riding his with his hands holding your breasts. he thrusted his hips up into you and you gasped, struggling to keep your eyes open as he repeatedly hit your g-spot. “look at you, you wanted to talk all big before, now look at you. desperate for my cock” 

“shut the fuck up” you held his throat and he rubbed your clit, biting his lip as he watched your face twist. “fucking hell” he flipped you two again, perching your ass in the air and holding your hips tightly as he thrusted roughly. you held onto the sheets, ransom grabbing your hair in his fist. “i’m gonna cum, ransom, i’m gonna cum on your cock” ransom turned you over onto your back again, holding your face. 

“i wanna watch you cum on my cock, baby. i want to see what my cock does to you” he kissed you softly, smirking as you moaned into his mouth. “cum on my cock, baby” you gasp and tremble as you came around him, ransom praising you as he rubbed your clit. “good girl, yn, such a good girl for me”

“fucking shit, ransom” you gasp and he smirks, and you pulled away from him and pushed him to the bed, arching you back as you kneeled in between his legs. you wrapped your lips around his cock and bob your head.

“yes, fuck yes” his hands made a make shift pony tail, letting you bob your head at your own pace. he let out a moan as your hand massaged his balls, adding more pleasure into the mix. “holy f..fuck” he gasps and bucked his hips, gripping your hair and shooting his cum down your throat. you swallowed every bit and licked him cleaned, laying down next to him with your hand on his stomach. 

“now you’ll remember me every time you look at your bed. goodnight ransom” you smile and kiss him, grabbing your clothes and heading back into the guest room. 10 minutes later after you laid down, ransom came back in and scooped you up, bringing you back into his room. 

“i need you in my bed to sleep too” he mumbled and held you close to him, laying his head on your chest. you giggled and wrapped your arms around his head, rubbing his back before you both fell asleep. 

[lilbabycee]

shame on you (blame on me) // ransom drysdale

↳ summary: you find out some shocking information about your fiancé that makes you question who’s to blame.

↳ request: for the prompt: i really need some angst in my life so maybe a super angsty cheating fic with ransom? - anon

↳ relationship: ransom drysdale x reader

↳ word count: 4.7k (oops)

↳ warnings: angst angst angst!, explicit smut, cheating

↳ author’s note: i love ransom and this actually made me sad - please enjoy! x

You’ve always considered yourself a fair person.

Throughout your life, you’ve been taught that you should take a step back, assess the situation you’re in, and look at it from a different angle. But as you’ve had to learn over the years, looking at too many angles can make you dizzy and as hard as you try, those scales of justice have a mind of their own and can easily tip one way or another when your back is turned to face another perspective. It’s a tedious game to play and you can’t win all the time, but for you, it’s always been enough to just try. 

And try as you might, there will always be people interfering with the balance: people with ulterior motives and nefarious agendas, people who will do anything to see themselves in first place, people who want so desperately to be able to do it all. Life is an exchange, a give-and-take that you must navigate with the precision and confidence of a synchronized swimmer trying to keep up with the shadow of themselves in an ocean of doubt and self-loathing, and you find that those who only want to take and take without giving are those who, more often than not, end up alone when it’s all said and done. 

But you’ve always gone out of your way to make an attempt to steer people away from going down that path, encouraging them to give more of themselves to people who deserve it and open up their hearts up to people who may change their lives. All of your friends like to joke that you have a god complex and you can’t help but agree that maybe you do.

It’s inexplicable why you feel so responsible for the lives of others; strangers, friends, family alike, you bear the weight of their choices on your back. You chalk it up to extreme empathy and your parents insist that it’s because you’re just inherently good. Maybe it’s because you feel as if since the minute you were born, the scales have been tipped in your favor. Perhaps you’re compensating for all of the privileges that you were handed because of who your parents are and what your socio-economic class is, the silver spoon that you’ve been trying to spit out of your mouth for your whole life. All you know is that you so deeply crave justice that it makes your head ache some days. 

So yes, you would - modestly - consider yourself fair.

That’s why it shocked so many when you fell in love with Ransom Drysdale. 

You met him at a charity fundraiser that you were hosting to build schools in less economically developed countries all over the world, an initiative that you’d been working on for years and held so dear to your heart. Your mother has been close to Joni for her entire life and knew the Thrombeys and Drysdales because of business, so when she told you that they’d be attending, you didn’t think much of it.

“Darling,” your mother calls and beckons you over, pulling you into her side with a bright smile on her face as she stands next to a group of well-dressed patrons. 

When you’re standing next to her, you must be mindful of the way that the emerald green satin of your gown sweeps the floor. With a slim diamond choker wrapped around your neck and rings that cost five-figures adorning your fingers, you usually prefer to indulge in simpler pleasures but for events like these, you give into hedonism and allow your mother and stylist to spoil you. You press a barely-there kiss to your mother’s cheek as she gently holds onto you, running her nails up and down your arm comfortingly.

“Honey, these are the Drysdales. This is Linda, her husband Richard, and their son Hugh.”

You smile politely at both Linda and Richard and are about to give their son the same treatment when you feel the heat of blue flames licking up the exposed skin of your leg that peeks through the thigh-high slit in your dress. But the fire doesn’t stop there; it spreads up your stomach and lands in the valley of your breasts. A part of you wants to be angry that this man is ogling you as if you’re a piece of meat, the prey that his predator has been waiting to pounce on, but a part of you revels in it. You know that you look good - it’s no secret to anybody at this event - but to have someone unabashedly appreciate that makes your heartbeat speed up.

Since he can’t tear his eyes off of your cleavage, you take the opportunity to give Hugh a once-over of your own. 

His black loafers are designer - you can tell by the way all of the little golden g’s on the velvet of his shoes are linked together - and so are his black socks, something which makes you have to physically prevent yourself from rolling your eyes. The black, grey, and white checkered pants he’s wearing hug his thighs just enough to see the shape of the muscles in his legs and the outline of his sizable length - you don’t let yourself look at that for too long. The letters on his belt match his shoes and you’re momentarily astounded at how narrow his waist is. Under a waistcoat and suit jacket that are both printed with the same pattern as his pants, he’s wearing a burgundy turtleneck that clings to his torso like a second skin. From what you’ve seen, you can assume that he’s heavily muscled underneath his clothes, and when you see his broad shoulders and big arms, you’re proven right.

Luxury virtually seeps out of his pores and it nauseates you.

But you’re intrigued nonetheless. His eyes lock on yours and you find yourself drowning, trying to swim through a choppy sea of grey and blue. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and a shy smile lifts your lips when he extends a hand out towards you.

“Nice to meet you,” his voice is deep and his jaw is squared as if he’s biting back his words. You delicately place your hand in his and marvel at the way his palm swallows yours. His skin is warm and soft and you’re close enough that you can smell notes of bergamot and cedarwood that make your usually poised stance melt. 

“Likewise, Hugh,” you manage to say, overwhelmed by the charm and class of the man before you.

“Call me Ransom, sweetness; only the help calls me Hugh.”

And just like that, your rose-tinted glasses shatter and you blink hard, rescinding your hand from Ransom’s and nodding at him briefly. You can’t help but wonder how much more pretentious this son of a bitch can get, but your mother hasn’t failed to notice the way that the two of you sized each other up. So when you’re eventually walking away from the family of three, she gives you a knowing look that you’re all too familiar with, a look that makes you scoff and avoid her eyes.

“So,” she draws out the word and nudges your shoulder with hers, “he’s cute, no?”

“Mom,” you groan quietly.

“Come on now, darling, he was a very handsome boy. And I saw the way he was looking at you-”

“Sure, Mom, but did you hear him? ‘Only the help calls me Hugh’ - he’s so far up his own ass...and what kind of name is Ransom anyway?”

Your mom shrugs, the corners of her lips twitching up into a cheeky grin.

“Doesn’t matter, love - I think he’s cute and you should go speak to him. And if you don’t, who knows? He might snatch you up in that auction later tonight.”

And he did. Every year at the benefit, you auction yourself off for a night out which you only continue to do because it proves to be an extremely valuable source of income for your charity. You’re standing up in the center of that stage, the host for the night yelling out the bids for the auction, and through the blinding lights, you’re able to see white signs flying up with ridiculously high amounts of money printed on them. You’re sure that this is almost over when you see fifty-thousand dollars stuck up in the air, but then the host says:

“One-hundred-thousand dollars to the gentleman in the checkered suit right over there!”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing and a part of you hopes that it’s not Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you haven’t seen anybody else wearing such a distinctive suit; your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. Even in the relative darkness, you meet the blazing blue of his eyes with an inaudible gasp and the sly smirk on his lips makes you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop a smile of your own from spreading on your face. 

So when he wins a night of your time for one-hundred-thousand dollars and he leads you off the stage with a large hand on the small of your back, you can’t even bring yourself to be a little irritated at the way he leans into your body to whisper “gotcha” teasingly in your ear because he does have you. 

Fair and square. 

---

But you don’t know how you’ve ended up here. Over three years and one marriage proposal later, you’re sitting here pitifully with your head in your hands because you can’t believe that this is what it’s come to. You’ve tried many times over the past few hours to cease the incessant shaking of your hands but it’s relentless, your anxiety and distress running through your veins and seeping through your bones. 

The last four hours of your life have uprooted everything that you’ve ever believed in, everything you thought you knew about fate and order and love because it’s all a fucking mess. When Harlan handed you the flash drive, he warned you that you should only look at it if you think that you’re ready to accept that your reality will be flipped on its head and the expectations that you’ve allowed yourself to build up so carefully like tiny little brick towers will not only be knocked over, but destroyed beyond repair. 

You brushed him off jovially, thinking he was just being overly dramatic like he usually is, because you and Ransom had just gotten back from tasting wedding cakes and you were in your own little bubble of serenity. With a brief kiss on his cheek, you floated out of the room on cloud nine as he watched you leave with deep despair in his eyes that you were too distracted to notice.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have just thrown caution to the wind and plugged the memory stick into your laptop without really thinking about it first; you don’t think you’ll ever forget the way that your heart plummeted into your stomach at the images of your fiancé with his arms wrapped around a slew of different women. 

Something inside of you immediately wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they caught him from a bad angle, maybe the other women were the ones who initiated it. But you backtracked because who are you to blame anybody else except for Ransom? That wouldn’t be fair and a part of your brain knows that you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s more like his father than he would like to admit. 

You still don’t know why you kept looking, continued to scroll through the pictures even though looking at your soon-to-be-husband’s lips on other women made you feel as if you were going to throw up your breakfast all over your laptop. The more that you stared at the candid photos, the more you realized that the actual infidelity in itself hurt, but what’s even more painful is the cold look in his eyes when he’s with them. 

They didn’t mean anything to him yet he still did it, and that’s what gets you. 

Maybe you deserve this: maybe it was always meant to end up like this. It’s hard not to think that this could be the way that this relationship was always meant to pan out, that maybe this is fate balancing out those scales. You knew from the moment you met him that you’d have your work cut out for you with Ransom, but you were never one to back away from a challenge. And it wasn’t as if you were actively trying to change him but sooner or later, Linda came to you with praises spilling from her lips because she couldn’t believe who her son had become within the first year of meeting you. He’d transformed right in front of your eyes, and it filled you with a glowing sense of pride to see how much more caring and open and honest he was. 

Early in the relationship, you’d wanted to establish that you wouldn’t treat him like a charity case. Everyone is flawed to some extent, sure, but there are behaviors that you will always find inexcusable, and the two of you had sat down and laid them out. You had a feeling that you would need to set some ground rules with Ransom and he was surprisingly lenient, establishing his own terms and conditions in return. 

The two of you had laughed hard about it later on because it all sounded like some kind of business deal or contract. 

You could laugh about it now too, especially since the number one most important item on both of your lists was to remain faithful. As a couple, you think that you have a very direct form of communication. Ransom is not one to hold back his discontent and frankly, neither are you. Neither of you is afraid to argue and you do it often, but it’s never grown into anything more intense than a few hours of painful silence and is always resolved before you fall asleep. 

You’d always thought that if you ever found yourself in a situation like this one, you wouldn’t be able to forgive your significant other. But never in your life have you felt such an intense connection to another human; your souls have intertwined so intricately that you don’t know whether or not you’re willing to jeopardize that.

“Princess?”

His voice echoes through your shared house and you can hear him hang up his coat, cursing as he kicks his shoes off and pads up the stairs. He stops outside the open door to your bedroom, spying the back of your open laptop and your still body lying on your stomach with your face turned away from him.

“Babe, you’re gonna flip your shit when I show you what I found today,” he drops the bags in his hand and walks around the king-size to press a kiss to the top of your head. You can pinpoint the exact moment when he realizes that something’s wrong. He freezes in place, feet seemingly rooted to the ground when he gets a good look at your face. The puffiness of your eyes, your wet lashes, and the tear streaks down your cheeks all alert him that something’s not quite right. 

That’s when he sees it. 

The last picture that you looked at was by far the worst. It shows him balls deep in a woman who you actually know fairly well because she’s worked closely with both you and Ransom for years on a number of your projects. She was initially hired as his assistant but soon evolved into something more like a friend to your family and his alike. You decide that it’s definitely worse when it’s someone you know.

The room goes entirely silent because the universe has pressed pause on this moment, all so he can fully realize the gravity of the situation. 

“Baby, let me explain-”

“I actually don’t think I want you to, Ransom,” you respond tiredly, your voice raspy from lack of use and your head heavy as you sit up in your bed. You pull your knees into your chest as you run a hand over your face to wipe away any leftover tears. 

Ransom flinches and you know it’s because you’ve called him by his name. With you, it’s usually baby or sweetheart or honey but not this time. He wants so badly to be your love again but the light in your eyes has gone out and he doesn’t know whether or not that’s even possible anymore.

You’re exhausted more than anything else. You’ve cried all your tears and are ready to never think about this ever again, but he’s sitting in front of you looking like a kicked puppy and you know that you need to be fair and give him a chance to explain himself. That’s what you’d want.

“Please, sweetheart, let me,” he begs, eyes searching yours and hand cautiously hovering right over your jaw, not quite touching but the heat emanating from his palm is enough to make you tear up again. It’s a small comfort that you know you’re going to miss.

Nodding, you hastily place your hand over his, pressing it to your face while a sob escapes your lips. He wraps both his arms around your waist as you curl in on yourself and sink into his body, taking deep breaths even though your nose is being assaulted with the familiar scent of oak and vanilla that makes you long for a simpler time. 

There’s a drawn-out pause before he starts speaking, his chin resting on the top of your head as he mulls over his words. 

“I’m sorry.”

It’s all he says for about a minute, letting the words hang in the air while the only sound in the room is that of your loud sniffles. 

“I’m so, so sorry, sweetness.”

He’s always called you that: sweetness. He once told you that you’re like honey, soft and sweeter than anything he’s ever had the pleasure of loving, and then laughed when you returned from work that night with a bag of those pastries you like from the bakery up the street. He could never stomach them no matter how hard he tried, but you always thought that was hilarious because he inhales those biscoff cookies like air. 

But you don’t feel very sweet right now as he spews apologies and excuses, spinning you sugar-coated lies and candied falsehoods with the confidence of a practiced storyteller. There’s a bitter taste on your tongue that you want so badly to spit out, tell him what you really think of him in this moment and how he’s not the man that you came to know. It was foolish of you to think he’d changed.

And when once again, quiet falls over your room in the light of the mid-afternoon, you only nod again, choosing to reserve your words for when you have something to say. Because as of right now, that sour taste still lingers on your tongue but you have no desire to rid yourself of it any longer. You’ll let it stay, allow it to fester as a reminder that you’ve been blind and naive but never again.

It ends here.

Ransom starts to stir noticeably when you don’t say anything, playing with the cotton of your shirt and your limp fingers. When you hear him speak next, something’s changed in his tone and you can feel the bass in his voice through his chest. 

“Y/N, baby, please say something- anything. Scream, yell at me, just fucking do something, babe: you’re killing me here.”

You scoff at the notion of you killing him because the irony of it is too funny to resist. But you decide to put him out of his misery, finally blinking up at him and meeting his eyes. They’re filled to the brim with cold rain that sends a chill down your back, dark and stormy and wet like the English countryside and you can almost smell the petrichor. 

“Can we just go back to before?” 

Your voice is cracking and your request is simple, but it’s enough for the few tears brimming in Ransom’s eyes to spill over onto his cheeks. You’ve only seen him cry twice before and it tugs at your heartstrings to see him like this, so open and more vulnerable than he’s allowed himself to be with anyone else. He’s already nodding rapidly but you’re not done.

“Can we go back, just for a little while? I just-”

You have to pause because the claws of despair are raking your skin as it crawls up your throat. 

“I just want it to be like before. I love you so much that it hurts and I just want it to be like before.”

He’s nodding eagerly now and his lips are already on yours, anchoring you to him because your love’s not enough to do so anymore. You push yourself up onto your knees so that you can grab his face between your hands, the face that you love so hard that it’s suffocating you. He steals your breath when he slips his tongue into your mouth and you feel lightheaded when his big hands slide underneath your shirt. Guilt plagues your thoughts but you push that aside for now: perhaps because it’s time for you to be selfish and you’ll allow yourself this, perhaps because you’d rather focus on the way that he tastes like cinnamon and the salt of your combined tears and he feels like home. 

The moment he wraps his arms around you to push you onto your back, you lean further into him because you want him as close to you as possible, trying desperately to become a part of him once more. The kisses he plants on you are like sugar and you want to inject them so that maybe you can be his sweetness again. The way your lips move in tandem makes your heart soar because it’s always been so easy - except when it’s not. 

Your shirt is thrown across the room, leaving you in only your panties and almost completely bare underneath his gaze. He stares at you reverently, silently worshipping you like a Madonna as rivers of tears pour from your eyes. His lips wrap around one of your peaked buds earnestly, his fingers rolling the other gently between them. The shock of pleasure that shoots through you almost makes you cry harder but you just bury your fingers in his hair, his tears hot on your soft skin. After he goes to give your other nipple the same attention, you pull him back to your lips. Without hesitation, he strips himself of his cable knit and shirt together, tossing them off the bed while you help him undo his belt. No words are exchanged when he kicks his pants off and your hand slips into his boxer briefs to stroke his hard length heavy in your hand because there’s nothing to say.

He pulls his underwear off too and after he does, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of yours and strips you entirely. You take a beat just to admire each other, chests heaving and eyes glassy. Ransom’s face is flushed and you’re sure that your eyes are red but you’re still as beautiful to each other as you’ve always been.

He buries his face in your neck and you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath. Your nipples are pressed against his muscled chest as you just lay there, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. When he slips himself into your wet heat, the stretch of his thick cock lights your body on fire and you cry out. He rocks back and forth until he’s fully sheathed, and his entire body shakes with a sob when the two of you are completely joined together. 

Your souls have fallen out of step but in this moment, they’re dancing again.

The rolling of his hips against yours is slow as he takes his time tearing you apart, molding you to his body because he doesn’t want to let you go either. He drinks in the sound of your whimpers like ice water while his body overheats with passion and when your hand tightly grips the hair at the nape of his neck, he picks up the pace, rutting into you with unbridled ardor and whispering your name like a prayer. With his lips buried in your skin, you can’t quite make out the muffled sounds of his cries until he moves them right next to your ear. 

“I love you, I’m sorry, I love you.”

And he says it over and over again and each time he does, it becomes more broken and you can feel the agony weighing down his voice. You’re so close to the edge and you can feel he is too, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he reaches down to rub at your clit so that you can finish at the same time. 

Broken pleas fall from your lips, a litany of “please, please, please” as he gives you exactly what he knows you need. Your nails rake up and down his back as he moves and his breath hitches. What you don’t expect is for him to pull away from your shoulder and prop himself up on his forearms to stare you dead in the eyes. You can’t handle the intensity so you try to avert your gaze, but he whines deep in his throat.

“Please, baby, please look at me - I love you, please,” he urges you tearfully, trying to catch your darting eyes.

Once your stare reluctantly locks back onto his, he laughs wetly, his quivering lips curving into a weak smile as he kisses your cheek sweetly. The sentimentality of it all is what pushes you over the edge, your entire body shaking with the aftershocks of your release and the sobs that continue to wrack your chest. A second later, Ransom stills his movements, moaning quietly as he spills into you. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, crying and breathing each other’s air as the dance of your souls starts to come to an end. You wonder what it’d be like if this was different, if you were weeping with happiness instead of sorrow. 

To halt that train of thought in its tracks, you extricate yourself from your fiancé and lock yourself in the ensuite.

When you come back out, Ransom is underneath the covers, eyes trained on you. You don’t say anything but you do crawl back into bed next to him, allowing him to smother you with kisses that usually make you giggle and pull you deep into his chest. 

Ransom takes a breath before he speaks. “Stay. Please, sweetness. Don’t go - I want you to be here when I wake up.”

You just nod, combing your fingers through his hair as you can see his eyes start to get heavy. 

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be here.”

---

It’s 1:22 a.m and you know you can’t stay. 

Ransom’s always been a deep sleeper and you’re lucky to have woken up in a moment when he’s not holding you in a vice-like grip. You flip back the covers and head to your closet, grabbing the nearest articles of clothing that you realize too late belong to the snoring man in your bed. 

It doesn’t even matter anymore. After putting them on, you grab a duffle bag from the bottom of your closet and start pulling clothes from your side of the wardrobe off of hangers, stuffing as much as you can into the bag before sliding the zipper across. 

You’re on your way out but you can’t resist peeking over your shoulder to ensure that Ransom’s still asleep,  and you can’t help the small smile on your lips when you see that he’s still knocked out, mouth wide open with an arm hanging off the bed. Your head pounds from all the crying you’ve been doing but a burst of glee numbs the pain at the sight of the man-child in front of you. You’re a breath away from dropping your bag and slipping back into bed with him, your baby, your honey, your sweetheart.

But you don’t because he doesn’t deserve that and you deserve some time for you. And as the door clicks behind you, you can’t help but think that this is only fair. 

tagged: @literaturefeen​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @evnscvll​ @donutloverxo​ @ambthegamer​ @oliviamaries​ @maynay43​ @i-lie-here-charmed @thinkaboutmara​ @x-abi-sharp-x​ @lady-pswrld​ @bval-1​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @la-cey​ 

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[egoludes]

ok. so my concept for ransom is maybe ransom trying to get the reader to know he likes her? like maybe he does small things at first but the reader is a bit oblivious and isn’t catching on until ransom gets frustrated and kisses her or maybe suddenly blurts out he really likes her?? no pressure if you don’t have inspo for it but I haven’t seen a lot of soft! ransom fics! and i really love your writing.

this is so, so late, but i didn’t forget about you and this wonderful concept anon - i hope you like this! i really enjoyed writing it and musing about this side / kind of ransom :) no real warnings beyond rich kid antics! 

wc: 1.2k

honestly? ransom can’t think of many times he hasn’t gotten what he wanted. world at his fingertips from an early age, he’s a spoiled sort. proud of it too. 

then, there’s you. you with that crooked smile and willful personality ---- maybe you’ve been in his life since childhood, one of the few people to know him before he soured from parental indifference. and even as you’ve grown older and gone down different paths (he teases you about it — “law school? what a fucking waste of time.” — but that passion is a good look on you. it always has been.), you’ve never considered cutting him out. there’s a vulnerability in him when he’s with you - an openness that only comes with people who know you well. and you, despite the efforts of every friend you’ve introduced him to, reciprocate in turn. from teenage years on the sprawling campus of andover to adulthood drunk off country club champagne, you’ve been each other’s constant. 

yet you’re the only thing he can’t seem to keep under his thumb; the one thing he can’t have simply because he wills it. it’s a foreign feeling, no doubt; women come to him as easily as everything else, and the fact that nothing has ever quite gone his way with you makes his stomach ache.

it takes him thirty-something years to figure out why.

once he does, ransom doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. as far as he’s concerned, love - that infuriating, spiraling feeling you inspire in the far reaches of his chest - is all about what you give. with his parents, it was one outrageous present after another to make up for the milestones they missed; with his grandfather, it’s a steady stream of funds when he does fuckall to earn it. 

with you, he starts small; anklets and handbags that, admittedly, suit the other women he spends time with more than you. but it’s what he knows, and he showers you in them any chance he can get. 

before long, you’re coming home to something new nearly every other day. the spree is confusing to say the least, even if you accept the presents graciously. smiling that smile he’s come to yearn for. but, to ransom's dismay, it always ends there - niceties and tenderness he’s used to. thank you’s and ransom, you really didn’t need to’s that fit the friendship that you have, not the intimacy he covets. 

not where he wants to be.

if it were anyone else, he’d reach his limit after that - patience has never been his strong suit. but, the more his affections go over your head, the more ransom yearns for you. he tells himself it’s the challenge in it all — but, really, it’s the relief. 

it’s knowing, affirming that you’re not like the starry-eyed girls at the parties, or the preening fuckers on over-groomed golf courses. you don’t bow for dollars, or cave for things —and it’s all he could do not to beg for your hand right then and there.

eventually, though, he just has enough. he’s tired of trying to drop hints and be subtle because it clearly isn’t working. 

i could see it happening with the most extravagant gift yet. boat perhaps? not so large that it’s excessive, but enough presence to make it obnoxious.

and you’re in the middle of saying just that, looking the boat over from its lower deck, when he scoffs, arms folded over his chest as he watches you through tinted shades. “well, you better get over that — this is for you.”

you’re so shocked at first, you snort. a full fledged one at that; so unbecoming you  fight the urge to check over your shoulder for a disapproving glance from your mother. “sure, ransom,” you snicker, stepping past him to peek over the boat’s railing. the water’s surprisingly pristine for such a busy harbor and for a second, you’re actually mesmerized by the way it moves. 

ransom cuts in with a pull on your hand, grounding you in yet another moment of unusual generosity. “i’m serious - it’s in your name already and everything.”

you don’t ask him how he managed that (though it’s a valid question you’re not sure you want the answer to) - your disbelief is too strong for you to do anything but blink at him, searching his face for the inevitable crack of a shit-eating grin to let you know he’s lying.

but it never comes. instead, ransom is watching you with a face that stiffens by the second, and you realize in one fell swoop, heart stuttering  in your chest, that he’s absolutely fucking serious.

your reaction after that is the same it’s always been - you shaking your head and waving your hands in refusal, backing away from him instinctively. “ransom, holy shit — this is too much, are you kidding me?” you look over the boat with a renewed eye and can hardly handle the lavishness he’s trying to bestow on you. you can’t even make sense of it, this generosity that’s become so commonplace. “where is all this even coming from? i mean, the boat, the jewelry, the bags -- you’ve been doing this for months, i don’t get it."

at any given moment, ransom is like a brewing sea - emotions ebbing and flowing like high tide. and right now, he’s at full rage, frustration, exasperation, desperation all taking him at once. but somehow, he doesn’t bow before it the way he usually does; no childish anger, or snide comments. instead, he does something that shocks even him: he laughs.

the sound of it shakes his whole body, shoulders bending back some from the force of it. you’re confused by it to say the least, struggling to find the words to even react — but it turns out you don’t have to. ransom fills the space for you, stepping closer and speaking up. “you’re really going to make me say it, huh?” he scoffs a bit, pink staining his cheeks as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his brown peacoat. 

you can’t tell for sure, but there’s something beyond the glare of his thousand dollar sunglasses that you don’t recognize. at least not on him. it makes you nervous in a way, the sound of your heartbeat growing in your ears; and he seems to pick up on it, reaching to press a thumb into your cheek as if in a taunt. if anything, though, it’s playful; you can tell by that grin he seems to only give to you most days.

“for someone so smart,” he hums, thumb moving from your cheek to the fullness of your bottom lip, “you sure are fucking dense, hon.”

you’re frowning, poised to retort, when he stops you with lips over yours. the kiss lasts a few seconds at most, but it feels like much longer. perhaps it’s the years of waiting giving it such weight - the vivid memories of nights forcing yourself to accept he would never feel for you what you did for him. whatever it is, it does you in; when he pulls away, you stay dazed and processing, even as he swipes his tongue out to taste what you leave behind. “are we getting it now---?"

the way you lunge for him, his voice lost beneath your mouth and the crash of the water below, answers his question. 

[voidmadisonrecs]

chris evans recs II

here are more of my fav chris evans (and co.) fics, blurbs, headcanons, etc. (see my first list here)

feel free to message or comment with suggestions that i should read and make sure to check out these writers other works because they are all amazing <3

Chris Evans

put your head on my chest - @uprootbasic

chris being cute

impressive - @fluffymisha97

chris continues to amaze and impress you

waking up with your favourite duo - @holdontorogers

dodger is obsessed with you

birth control - @just-iimagine

chris has something he needs to tell you

secret wedding - @agentofbarnes

you and chris have a private wedding but someone spots something that causes the secret to get out

safe haven - @foodieforthoughts

for better or for worse, you had vowed, and you planned to stick by it

surprise - @time-for-a-lullaby

you have a baby girl together and he’s left for a few weeks for work. you’re stressed and overwhelmed. chris surprises you after 2 weeks away (baby fever)

routine - @teebarnes

you were on live with your daughter is keeping you company while you wait for chris to take her from you (baby fever)

daddy's sorry - @uprootbasic

chris accidentally scares his daughter (baby fever)

chris wants you to have his babies - @worksby-d

chris realizes you're the one and after spending christmas with you and his family and seeing how you are with kids (baby fever)

cravings - @worksby-d

you have cravings and Chris is a cutie pie (baby fever)

didn't i tell you that - @fluffymisha97

sometimes important information can slip through the cracks. even a big piece of information like this one (baby fever)

parents - @demonsandmischief

having a new baby is tough, but it's even harder when Chris has to travel (baby fever)

mad at myself - @worksby-d

chris’ ex is playing his love interest and you feel a bit jealous and insecure (a lil angsty)

cumsumation - @uprootbasic

you and chris elope (smut)

panty thief - @agentofbarnes

self explanatory (smut-ish?)

the evans effect - @agentofbarnes

chris evans loves when his family is together, but he also loves when you can’t get enough of him (smut)

nsfw alphabet - @chanelfaerie

self explanatory (smut)

Frank Adler

brownie kisses - @fairyevans

cute neighbour frank

home is wherever i’m with you - @shieldedreams

when you move into the house across from frank adler’s, it’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again

want you to stay (heaven truly is on earth) - @shieldedreams

frank knows true to his heart that you love him. yet, overhearing someone trying to pick you up from the bar has him doubting himself

frank cuteness - @stargazingfangirl18

"my eyes and your nose will look the cutest in a little boy. or girl. i'm not picky tbh." (baby fever)

high maintenance - @et-lesailes

you buy clothes for your baby and grumpy frank is not happy (baby fever)

hold on - @thewritingdoll

after you buy a pregnancy test, you’re excited by the prospect of having another baby with frank, but he seems apprehensive (baby fever)

Ransom Drysdale

learning to apologise - @starryevermore

ransom learns how to apologise

the blues - @stargazingfangirl18

you’re sad. ransom is soft

say it - @stargazingfangirl18

you went and caught feelings and scared ransom away...and then he shows up at your door at four in the morning

maneater (part 2) - @syntheticavenger

ransom engages in a verbal sparring match after a bridesmaid falls from grace

proposal - @agentofbarnes

ransom proposes

alibi - @et-lesailes

the death of harlan thrombey is being investigated, and while ransom seems to be the perfect suspect, he also has the perfect alibi (baby fever)

one, two, three brats - @chrissquares

ransom wants another one (baby fever)

Andy Barber

snuggle bug - @dadplease

andy gives you early morning snuggles

easier in movies - @worksby-d

andy comes home to find you unwinding after a long day and joins you (smut)

yes mrs barber - @jurassicbarnes

in which you’re down on your knees, about to suck his dick within an inch of his life because it was the only way to shut him up (smut)

mexico baby - @worksby-d

a baby is made in mexico lmaoooo (smut)

a helping hand - @ozarkthedog

you’re 8 months pregnant and andy helps you shave (baby fever)

Ari Levinson

one good girl, coming up - @fairyevans

hot (smut)

Steve Rodgers

slow like honey - @heli0s-writes

the gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet, sensitive, divorcé steve rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact (completed multi part fic, baby fever)

proposal - @fairyevans

you find the ring before he has a chance to propose

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

[lettalady]

A Turn of the Knife

E   •    warnings: explicit sexual content, dangerous situations, emotional manipulation, 

[ find the story on AO3 ]

This is what happens when you give up fighting against characters that walk off the screen after you watch a movie and allow them to get comfortable in your head.

1: Don’t fall in love (previously: ransom - featured in Nov Notes & Nothings 2019) 2: You’re the reason for the holes in my sweater (previously: sweater - featured in Nov Notes & Nothings 2019) 3: I’ll ruin you just like I ruin my clothes (previously: murder - featured in Nov Notes & Nothings 2019) 4: You’re stuck beneath my skin (previously: stubborn - featured in Nov Notes & Nothings 2019) 5: My lips your skin again and again and again (also titled: skin) 6: I’d rather have you on my wall (also titled: art)  7: Why won’t you run (also titled: risk) 8: Come a little closer I’ll use you right up (also titled: touch) 9: You’re an addiction I just can’t shake (also titled: reflection) 10: I love how you twist in my grip (also titled: grip) 11: Keep all my secrets or tell all my lies (also titled: undone) 12: Don’t make me do things you’ll regret (also titled: fault) 13: You asked for this (also titled: luck) 14: Beg barter and steal pieces of you (also titled: push) 15: You’ll miss me when you’re gone (also titled: whisper) 16: Don’t think you can ghost me (also titled: distance) 17: You drive me to distraction (also titled: distraction) 18: I’ll only hurt you if you let me (also titled: frustration)

And because nothing is complete without the odd imagines (or don’t imagines) and short little blurbs included:

Imagine that little flaw in his sweater Imagine that hitch in his step

Z is for Zipper - from the Alphabet Soup Challenge 2020 X is for X ray - from the Alphabet Soup Challenge 2020 

spoon  -  🔥 -  nsfw headcanons prompt 

The day Ransom ran into GG in the gallery

Moodboards don’t help to quiet characters at all. At all. 

[ Linda Drysdale ]               [ Benoit Blanc ] [ Ransom Drysdale ]          [ Richard Drysdale ] [ Marta Cabrera ]               [ Wanetta Thrombey ] [ Harlan Thrombey ]          [ Walt Thrombey ] [ Donna Thrombey ]          [ Jacob Thrombey ] [ Joni Thrombey ]              [ Meg Thrombey ] [ Detective Lieutenant Elliott ] [ Trooper Wagner ]            [ Fran ] [ Neil Thrombey ] * I know. shush *

[ Ransom Drysdale - boarding school years ]

[ playlist ]

[nickiewrites]

My oh My. (Ransom Drysdale)

Type: really don’t know??

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex

Words: 1,382

Pairing; Ransom Drysdale x reader

Soft Ransom too, crying bc I love him

A/N:

Based on the song My oh My by Camila Cabello and DaBaby, I don’t own any rights but love this song and it reminds me of Ransom. I didn’t use all the lyrics but whatever.

~

They say he likes a good time

He comes alive at midnight

My momma doesn’t trust him

He’s only here for one thing

But so am I

Little bit older

A blacker leather jacket

A bad reputation

Insatiable habits

He was onto me, one look and I couldn’t breathe

I said if he kissed me, I might let it happen

I swear on my life that I’ve been a good girl

Tonight, I don’t wanna be her.

~

I was sitting at my desk, doing some late-night studying. Going back and forth form clicking away on my laptop, to writing stuff down in my book. It’s my second year in college and it was kicking my butt. I took a break and took a drink of water and yawed. Then I heard my phone go off. I picked it up and looked at the screen, rubbing my eye.

12:03

Ransom: Where ya at?

I smirked to myself, deciding whether I was going to answer or not.

Of course, I was.

12:04

Me: Uh, at home?

12:05

Ransom: Doing what?

12:06

Me: Studying.

12:07

Ransom: Jesus Christ, baby, it’s Saturday night and you’re studying. Do you ever give yourself a break?

Ransom: What are you wearing?

12:08

Me: I have a big test Monday morning. Some people actually have to work for a living, you know.

Me: I’m wearing underwear ;)

12:09

Ransom: Shit, baby.

12:10

Me: Oh, under my baggy shirt and sweatpants :)

12:11

Ransom: I hate you.

Ransom: When you’re done studying, let me know and maybe you can come over and I can study up on you ;)

I sighed, contemplating if I should continue studying or go have a little bit of fun. I rolled my eyes and smiled to myself.

12:13

Me: On my way… but you better show me a good time:*

12:14

Ransom: Oh baby, I will.

I grabbed a light jacket and some flip flops, wallet and car keys and walked downstairs. My mom was asleep on the couch and I tried to sneak past. I had just made my way to the door when-

“Where ae you going? It’s after midnight.” My mom asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut angrily and turned around.

“Off to the store.” I tried to lie.

“Honey, if you’re going to see that boy, just say it. Don’t try to lie.” She sighs.

“I know you don’t like him, mom. That’s why I don’t tell you.” I crossed my arms.

“I don’t trust him. I know his family; I know how they are.”

“Well it’s not like we’re together or anything, we’re just hanging out, okay?”

“I know what ‘hanging out’ means when it’s past midnight.”

“I’m 19 mom. We’re being safe, it’s nothing, really. He’s… nice to me.”

My mom huffs and stands up. “I can’t stop you and I know I have to let you learn your own lessons. Just…. Be careful. Please. I don’t want you getting mixed up in whatever he’s doing or him getting you pregnant.”

“MOM! I just told you, we’re being safe! I-I have to go, I told him I was leaving 10 minutes ago.” I say, opening the door.

“Okay, I love you!” She yells.

I wave and slam the door, running out to my car. His house is about 20 minutes away, so I turn on some soft music. Within the minute, my mind is taking me somewhere else.

The day we met.

I had been at the Thrombey’s, picking up Meg. We had met in college and we had so many of the same interests. I pulled up to the large house and texted her, telling her I was waiting outside. I opened up the car door and stood against my car. I was fiddling with a string on my jacket, when I heard the noise of a loud engine. Next thing I knew, some asshole in a nice car, was whipping around the driveway. He came to a hard stop, right next to my car.

And that’s when I saw him.

He got out of the car, white knitted sweater, suede jacket, fancy scarves, designer sunglasses. He turned his head toward me, and I swear, I felt my breath hitch in my throat. He slowly walked over to me, his fingers running across his car.

“Well, hello there. Who might you be? Another one of my father’s young floozy’s?” He spoke.

I scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, nothing. My father just… can’t keep it in his pants and he likes to go for the young ones.” He smirked, standing directly across from me.

“Um, no. I’m here to pick Meg up, I’m her friend. Sorry.” I snapped.

“Oh..well in that case..” He took off his sunglasses to reveal his bright blue eyes. He came close to me, close enough for his fingers to run up my thigh to my hip, similar to what he had done to his car.

I sucked a breath in and looked up at him, his forehead almost dipping down far enough to touch mine.

“H-how do you even know if I’m old enough?” I trembled.

“Well, why don’t you tell me? The sooner you do, the sooner we can continue this.”

“I-I’m… I’ll be 19 next month…” I whispered.

“That works out… just perfectly.” I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“What about you?”

“Just turned 26.” He smirked, moving his hand toward my middle.

I gasped and pushed him away a little bit. “Maybe if you kissed me first… I might let it happen…”

I pulled myself out of the past, pulling up to the road to the Thrombey estate. I drove down the winding road for about 5 minutes. I pulled off to the side and parked my car, so that no one else would hear. I walked the rest of the way, the cold air making my cheeks turn red. Finally, I made it to the house, jumping over the gate. I stopped and pulled out my phone.

12:51

Me: Here.

I put it away and ran to the house. I saw the front light on and Ransom standing outside waiting, smoking a cigarette. I hide behind one of the large brick posts and Ransom walks down the stairs. Just as he reaches the bottom step, I jump out.

“Boo.”

He jumps and drops his cigarette on the ground.

“Dammit, baby! I fucking hate you.”

“Wow, telling me you hate me twice in one night. I don’t think you really hate me. “I smirk.

He walks closer to me and wraps his arms around my waist. He leans down and attaches his lips to my neck. I roll my eyes and push him off me.

“Come on, I’m not fucking you outside.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house.

“Did your mom see you leave?” He asked as we walked up the stairs, his eyes fixed on my ass.

“Yeah, she caught me just as I left. I tried to lie and say I was going to the store. But she caught on.” I sighed, turning the corner.

“she doesn’t know how bad you are.” He hummed behind me.

I whipped around and held my finger up to his lips.

“I swear, on my life, that I’ve been a good girl. I think you know that.” I leaned up to his ear. “Tonight, I do not want to be her.” I whispered.

I flopped over on the side of the bed, sweating all over the expensive sheets. I breathed out heavily, pulling a pillow over top of my naked body and sitting up.

“Shit, that was good.” I said.

“It’s always good… it’s me.” Ransom said.

“Um excuse me?”

He crawled over to me and kissed my shoulder and arm. “I was kidding, you’re the best.”

I thought to myself. “The best you’ve ever had?”

Ransom sat behind me, thinking for a minute. He got up and walked over to the light switch and flipped it off. The moonlight leaving just enough light to see silhouettes. He pulled the bedding back on his side and sat down, before grabbing onto me and pulling me under with him.

He laid me on top of him and pulled the covers up.

“Warm enough?” He asked as he settled in.

“Ransom…” I sighed, my chin on his chest, a serious look on my face.

He looked at me and pushed the hair out of my face and behind my ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Hugh. I don’t wanna ask again. And I’ll use your entire name if I have too.” He sighed and rolled his eyes before a small smile appeared across his face.

“Babygirl, you know it’s true. You’re the only girl I’ve ever let spend the night with me, cuddle, spend time together than doesn’t include sex.” He chuckled.

I stared at him. “But… are we… just having sex. Is that the one thing we get together for?”

“I mean… I guess so. Do you want more?” He asked.

I sat up from his chest, dragging him with me. We sat against the headboard and faced each other.

“When we first met and I told Meg you hit on me,” Ransom gave me a cutesy look at the phrase. “She said you had a bad rep, especially with girls. So, I told myself, it’s just sex, no attachments. But then, she told me you stopped sleeping with other girls, stopped even talking to them, going to bars, just drinking at home. I never said anything because I thought maybe you just wanted to be linked to one no-strings-attached girl. But you let me sleep over and you cuddled with me, which I know is a big step for you. But I wanted to know how you honestly felt before I said anything.” I said.

Ransom was staring down at his hands before he sighed and looked up at me. “The day I met you, I don’t know what happened to me. You were so cute and funny, and you weren’t stuck up or desperate or clingy. You never texted to hook up unless I did first. And you never expected me to let you stay over. And I love talking to you. How could I not… want more with you?” I almost teared up, hearing the once closed off, stuck up, rich boy, opening his heart to me right before my eyes.

“Tell me, I’m the best you’ve ever had… and I think we have a done deal here.” I smiled.

Ransom turned to look at me, a goofy look on his face, something I didn’t see much of but loved. “Babe...You are…the best… I’ve ever…had.” He said, kissing my cheeks in between brakes. I smiled and pulled his lips to mine.

I pulled away. “I think you’re getting soft on me, Drysdale.” I giggled, laying down and pulling my lover with me.

“My oh my, what am I gonna do with you?”

[nickiewrites]

Haunted

A/N:

A little different from what I usually write but I still love it. Based on the song Haunted by The Band CAMINO. Just found out they’re opening for a band i’m seeing (fingers crossed they don’t cancel) in August and i’m OBSESSED. 

Also drugdealer Ransom, love/hate

ps Promise i’ll write for Chris soon

~

She's all that I wanted

She's all I really need

And now this house is haunted

And she's just make-believe

“I can’t do this anymore, Ransom.” She said.

“What do you mean, I thought you loved me?”

“I DO love you but it’s too much. I know what you’ve been doing. I know Harlan cut you off. Coming home late, being distant. At first, I thought you might be cheating, bu- “

“I would never fucking cheat on you, I love you and you know it.” He took a step towards her wanting to grab her and ever let her go but was too angry and afraid he would hurt her… if he could anymore.

“I know that, but at this point, I’d rather you would have.” She sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Are you serious? You would rather me, bring some random fucking bimbo, into our home, lay her down in our bed and fuck her with the one thing that was clearly made just for you, huh? You’d rather me do that than make money for us to live off of, plenty more than enough for us to live on.”

“Not with the way your doing it!” She screamed. Sitting there, collecting her thoughts, “I don’t need a fancy lifestyle, Ransom. I just need you and a job and place to live and I will be more than happy. But you need more. You’ll always need more. You need the money aspect of life. You don’t realize how much that takes away from real life.  I can’t keep living like this. Worrying that every time you don’t pick up the phone, that you’re in trouble. That every time you don’t come home, you’re dead. Going to bed alone, without you there. Never seeing you, watching you ruin your life! I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Sitting on the bed, the same place he’s been sitting for the past 4 days. He didn’t even try to stop her, knowing she was right. He watched her shove clothes into a bag, telling him she was taking everything and wouldn’t be back. The sounds of her walking down the stairs and the door slamming. The start of an engine burned into his brain.

He hadn't moved in 4 days.

Not to go to the bathroom, to eat food, to check his phone, change, shower. Life just seemed pointless without her. His mind getting lost in memories of her. She was all that he wanted. All he needed. He finally stood up, walking around the room. Even the smallest things he noticed missing. Her slippers by the bed. Her phone charger on the nightstand. Her blankets in a pile on the chair in the corner. In the bathroom, all her body washes and facewash and make up, it no longer smelled like her.

The house was so empty and cold without her.

Haunted.

And she was make-believe.

[nickiewrites]

Thank you😭

Hi! I just want to say thank you to the people who have followed me on here, either in the past week or since I started my blog. Also to everyone who’s liked my stuff! I really feel grateful for everything! I started down a different career path recently but have always loved writing. When I was younger, I wrote some stuff on wattpad (🙃) and my stuff did good but it wasn’t me and I feel like Tumblr is much more my place and more personal. I really want to try to post as much as I can, I have lots of ideas and I hope you guys like all of them!

Just going to “address” some stuff. When I made this, I did have Adam Driver on here too and I still love him and his acting, but again, just wasn’t me. Also, Dylan O’Brien is part of my blog, but I’m not writing for him (as of now).

At the moment, i’m only writing for Chris and Ransom just because I feel like other than Steve, I don’t know his characters too well. The first Marvel movie I was really obsessed with was Civil War, I had just started my job at the theater in my town and saw it so many times. And then I watched literally all of them. And i’ve obviously always know who Chris WAS but like never payed attention, I love Steve but. It was when I saw Knives Out that I was like wow, realizing he like... wasn’t just Captain America (even tho when I was in the theater watching it, this lady behind me said to her friend “Now, that’s Captain America”) and I’ve watched more of his popular movies, so i’m still getting a feel. 

I don’t write for Dylan just because i’ve been watching TW since the OG times of 2011 and Dylan was just my smol bean and I just didn’t feel the grove of it, i’ve never had like an “attraction” too him, like sexually, he’s very attractive but he is like my role model so that’s why I don’t write for him. I just reblog fun gifs of him and TW and MR😂

Also, probably know one cares but here is just a little about me! I’ll be 21 in two weeks, female, straight, but I support lqbtq+, blm, basically just human rights🤷🏻‍♀️ As I said earlier, I work at a movie theater, been there 4 1/2 years, also as I said before, I currently am attending Cosmetology school, I was suppose to graduate July of next year but now it won’t be until October, it was pushed back because of Covid and quarantine, but I’m back now! And my dream job is to do hair and make up on TV and movie sets and I hope one day, I could possibly cut Chris Evans or Dylan O’Brien’s hair, and I would die happy. 

I’m also super shy but if you want to be friends or have questions or just want to talk, feel free to ask.

Again, thank you so much, I appreciate all the love, reblogs, comments, although I will never be half as good as the blogs I follow!🥺 

Thank you, thank you, thank you🖤

[nickiewrites]

Christmas Cramps - R.D.

I don’t even remember the last time I posted something. It was probably over 6 months ago. I’ve had a lot going on recently and have not been in the mood to write until a few weeks ago, even tho i’ve had ideas flying around in my head. this one sort of sucks and the title is weird but I didn’t know what else to call it, but I hope you enjoy.

Warnings; SMUT

The snow was coming down heavily outside, the cold Boston air making it stick and pile up. I made my way down stairs to start some breakfast, making sure to check the thermostat and turn the heat on for the day, as it was going to drop into the negatives.

I flicked on the lights to the Christmas tree and looked around at all the other decor around the house. I was getting excited that in two weeks, I would get to spend my favorite holiday with my favorite person for the first time. Pulling my sweater tighter around my body, I turned into the kitchen, seeing a piece of paper on the counter.

Hi baby,

I hope you have a wonderful day. I'll call you at lunch and don’t forget to let me know if you need anything.

I love you sweetie.

-Hugh

I smiled widely and slid the paper into my pj pockets, putting a mental note into my head to put it in the drawer with the others later. I finished making my food and sat at the table and turned on my laptop. I opened up my email and started scrolling through, just about to get my day started.

Ransom told me from the second we started dating that he wanted to take care of me. Of course, that wasn’t going to stop me from going to school but I loved that I could do it at my own pace and take my time because of him.

I had finished my breakfast and only got about 10 minutes into my coursework when I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I grabbed my phone and had forgotten my period was coming this week. I guess today was the day and my entire plans had changed. I closed my laptop and pushed it to the center of the table.

I walked over to the couch and pulled all the blankets I could find and wrapped myself up. Switching the TV on and snuggling into the couch.

Around noon, I got up and started to make lunch. It didn’t take long for my phone started to vibrate. I pulled myself together, not wanting Ransom to know I was cramping.

“Hi Ran.”

“Hi, peanut. How’s your work going?”

“It’s going okay. I was just about to take a break and make something to eat.” I smiled through the pain of a cramp.

“Mmmmm, I know something I want to eat.” He hummed through the phone.

I giggled, his voice making me feel a little better.

“How’s your day going, handsome?”

“Stressful. There were five new manuscripts in my mailbox this morning and all of them have been shit. Can’t even get through a single one. And they still haven’t fixed the cover for the new release so it definitely will not be out on time and ready for Christmas sales so that’s going to flop.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. But I know you’ll get this all worked out. You wouldn’t own your own company if you didn’t.”

He paused for a minute.

“Ran?”

“I love you so much. Thank you for believing in me.”

“Of course, my love. Always.” I said, just as another pain ran through my abdomen. “Listen, baby, I’m so hungry so I’m going to make something to eat, but I love love love you, so much and I’ll see you when you get home. Try to have a better day.”

“Thank you princess. I love you beyond words.”

We hung up and I continued to make more comfort food along with some hot chocolate and plopped right back into my spot on the couch with my food and heating pad.

——————-

I had taken a small nap after my food was finished and watched a movie. It was about 5pm when I heard tires pull up in the driveway. I stood up from the couch and walked towards the door. I opened it up just in time for Ransom to make his way through the door, covered in snow.

“Hi honey.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing me, closing the door, as I shrugged off his coat. He pulled me in closer as we continued to kiss and he put his cold hands on my hips and I jumped.

“Babyyyy”

“I’m sorry, I’m just freezing and I wan’ you to warm me up.” He smirks.

“We can do that later, what do you want for din- AH” another pain.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Ransom rushes to my side.

“Nothing, I’m fin- OUCH, god dammit!”

“Baby, what’s wrong, why are you in pain?” He says, voice terrified.

“I-I’ve been having cramps all day. Started my period this morning and nothing is working. Not pain meds, not the heating pad. I dunno what to do. I’ve been lying on the couch all day.”

Ransom pulls me in for a hug and attempts to make the pain subside by rubbing his hand in circles.

“Why didn’t you say anything, sweetie? I would have come home earlier.”

“I-I know, that’s why I didn’t tell you, you were so busy and I didn’t want to bother you.”

He brushes a piece of hair out of my face and kisses me on the forehead.

“Your health and happiness is my first priority.” He whispers.

“Thank you.” I whisper, giving him a kiss on the cheek. I look up at him.

“I don’ even know how you could make it any better, I’ve tried everything.”

“You haven’t tried… everything.”

I cocked an eye at him. “Oh really?”

He stuck his hands under my thighs and picked me up, taking me to the island in the kitchen and setting me down. His lips immediately attach to my neck and starts kissing lightly up and down. His hands rubbed roughly into my thighs, my hands stuck in his hair.

He pulls back for a second and lifts me up and out of my panties and pj pants, lips immediately finding their way back but this time sucking hard.

“Ran..” I moan out. “Not that I don’t love this, but they’re not getting any better.”

He pulls back once more. “I know baby, I’m sorry. I can’t help it, you’re intoxicating.” He smiles. He pulls his shirt off, along with his pants. Next goes my shirt, leaving me completely naked on the counter. He rubs the back of my neck as he uses his other hand to pull his boxers down just enough to get his dick out. He pumps it a few times to make it fully hard, before bringing it to my core and finding my clit.

“Just wanna make you a little more wet, beautiful.”

“Baby, I was wet the moment you walked through the door.”

He stared at me for a minute. “Fuck baby, I love you.” He said, before smashing his lips into mine again. He positions his dick at my entrance and slams into me.

Ransoms POV

“Fuck, baby you’re always so tight for me.” I moan into my girl's neck, pumping in and out of her core, feeling the mixture of her wetness and blood around my cock.

“Is this making you feel better, darling?” She nods at me. Too focused on making her feel better, I ignore her not being a good girl and not using her words.

Suddenly, I hear the front door open, quietly enough that Y/n doesn’t notice, too entranced by the feeling of us being connected.

Shit. 

I forgot my mother left me a voicemail saying her and my father were going to stop by later.

They don’t say a word as I cradle Y/n’s head and pull her into my chest, not wanting her to come out of her cock induced coma. I can tell she’s close by her quiet moans and drool I feel on my chest. I keep pumping in and out as my parents stare, chins practically to the floor as I’m not stopping on account of them being there.

I lift my finger up to my mouth slowly, shushing them, as if they were able to say anything beforehand.

“Ran.. I-I’m” I hear her little whisper.

“I feel it baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”

And with that, she releases and starts moaning like a fucking whore, sounds filling the house. I follow suit quickly behind her, panting and placing a kiss to her forehead. I pick her up and lay her head in my neck, making sure she doesn’t catch a glimpse of my parents, before walking her up the stairs and putting her to bed. I stuff my cock back into my boxers before heading back to see what Linda and Richard have to say.

[nickiewrites]

Me, when I saw Biden won Michigan (my state) 💙💙💙💙💙

[avenging-fandoms]

can you write a soft/angsty imagine of the reader taking back chris/steve or bucky/seb 🥺

‘hi sweetheart. i know you’re not speaking to me, but i just wanted to call and tell you once again i’m really.. really sorry. i should’ve told you where i was really going and not lied to you. please call me back, okay? bye honey’

you replayed the voicemail over and over, biting the tip of your thumb. you lock your phone and dip your head into your hands, rubbing your eyes with the base of your palms.

barney nudged his head against your hands, making you smile. you sit up and pet your golden retriever on his head, squishing his face. “you’d never lie to me, would you, barnes?” he looked up at you and you laid down, barney hopping up and laying neck to you. “do you think i should take him back, or listen to him? he lied to me. he said he was going to sebastian’s, but he went out to dinner with some girl. maybe she’s just a friend, he’s allowed to have girl friends. ugh, i don’t know, barney” you look at him, who licked your face. you smiled, kissing his head. “what would i do without you?”

you fed barney a piece of bacon and smile at him as you put the pieces on your plate. you turn off the burner and grab your mug of coffee and plate of breakfast food, sitting down at the table, excited for your breakfast for dinner.

you put on a tv show you needed to catch up on, eating your waffles and barney eating his dinner. you were over halfway through your dinner when you heard a knock on your door. barney stopped eating and barked, sniffing under the door. he hopped on his two front paws, and you knew he only did that when chris was around because he smelt dodger on him. 

barney sits next to the door with a happy wagging tail and you deeply sigh, opening the door and wanting to cry as chris stood in front of you. “hi” he smiled, barney jumping up and putting his paws on chris’s shoulders. “and hello to you too, what’s going on?” he laughed and you couldn’t help but smile as his laugh rang through your ears.

“down, barnes” he obeyed and you pointed to his bed, where you petted him as he walked to his bed and laid down. “what’s up?”

“can i come in?” he asked softly and you nod, opening the door more so he could step in. you closed the door and he spun on his heels. you pulled your sweater sleeves over your hands, crossing your arms over your chest. you kicked the air, rolling your lips between your teeth and smiling.

“i got your voicemail” chris turned around and sat on the couch, you following. “i’ll listen to you, chris. but you have to listen to me first” he nodded, taking off his coat and listening to you as you spoke, something you always loved about him. “you are absolutely allowed to have friends who are girls, absolutely. opposite sexes can be friends. but when you lie about it? that’s when i feel like something sneaky is happening behind my back and i had to find out through fucking tmz. no one likes tmz, and to see those pictures? it broke me. if you hadn’t lied, i wouldn’t have been mad and we wouldn’t have taken that month long break” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “okay, your turn”

“i understand how you’re feeling, and i agree. opposite sexed can be friends, you and tom are friends. i didn’t lie because i was doing something sneaky. well, i kind of was” your eyes nearly bug out of your head and he smirks, reaching into his jacket pocket. “i contacted one of my old friends who made jewelery, and she had this made”

chris holds under your hand and you open your palm, chris dropping a ring on your palm. you smile, admiring it and biting your lip softly. “chris..”

“on the inside, it has our initials and the anniversary date of when we started dating 2 years ago. i promise you, sweetheart, i am so goddamn in love with you. every time someone asks about my future wedding, i see you at the end of the aisle. when they ask about my dream home, i see you on the front steps with dodger and barney running around the yard. all of my future, i see you” you chuckle, blinking and wiping away your tears. you look at chris, sniffling. “i’m really, really sorry i lied to you. i didn’t know how you felt about girl friends, and now that i know, i’ll be honest”

“you can always be honest with me, honey. i forgive you” you smile, holding his face and he smiles.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers as he slides the ring on your finger, and you smile and nod. he leans forward, closing the gap and connecting your lips. a long 4 weeks, a whole month, without touching, seeing, or even talking to him.

you heard the tapping of barney’s nails and look at him, where he stole a piece of bacon off of your plate on the table. “hey, barnes!” you scold and chris laughs into your neck, making you giggle, barney panting and barking.

[nickiewrites]

Santa Tell Me... (Ransom Drysdale)

A/N: No warnings, literally just FLUFF🥺❤️ My first story in MONTHS!! also, i’m calling this Santa Tell Me, because I got the idea from Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande and it sort of has inuendos to the lyrics and it’s a cute name so 

I made some edits so it flows better, I hope lol

��️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Sipping the red wine out of the glass, looking around the large house. The big tree stood at 10ft tall, full of twinkling lights and ornaments, topped with a warm colored star. The dining room had food lined up and down the long table. The fireplace roaring in the living room, the warmth flowing through the house. I took another sip of the wine and my ears tuned into ‘Let It Snow’ playing softly. I crossed my arms and turned around, pulling the cream colored sweater tighter around my body. Eyes flickering up from the glass in my hand, gaze catching on him, looking right back at me. Standing across the hall, in a white t-shirt, underneath a grey sweater, designer jeans and loafers. His father was talking to him but all his attention was on me. I waved at him shyly, a small smile in the corner of his mouth returned.

He left the conversation he wasn’t really having with his father and started walking towards me. I followed suit and met him halfway in the hallway by the front door. I looked up at his tall frame, feeling his hands make their way onto my hips.

“We can leave after desert and presents, I promise. These parties never seem to end. Even when they start to get boring, my family insists since it’s Christmas Eve, we have to spend it together.” He spoke softly to me.

“It’s okay, Ran. I’m having an...okay time.” I tried to sound cheery, but there was still uncertainty in my voice.

It wasn't the boring party that had me a bit down.

“An ‘okay’ time is not a reason to stay, baby. I know I've barely gotten to spend time with you but if I don’t come and talk to my family, I'm afraid granddad will cut me out of the will.” He sighed, kissing me on the cheek.

I put my hand on his chest and nodded my head. “Really, it’s okay. I just, kinda want to eat.” I giggled softly as Ransom smiled. I saw his head flicker up to the ceiling and look at what was hanging above us. He looked down smirking at me. “I bet that will liven things up a bit.” He says and starts to lean in.

I panic and start to pull away. “I-I… I have to go to the bathroom.” I mumble and run to the small restroom around the corner, not looking back knowing he probably doesn’t have a happy look on his face. I locked the door and sat down on the floor, breathing in and out slowly before downing the rest of the drink in my glass. I sit there a few more minutes and calm down before walking back out.

I wander around the house, looking for Ransom. Without luck of finding him, I sigh, knowing I screwed up, I start to walk to the door to retrieve my coat, when Meg, Ransom’s younger cousin and one of the only other tolerable people here, walks up to me.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks, grabbing my arm with a serious look in her eyes.

“Yeah… yeah i’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I breathe out.

“I just.. I saw what happened with Ransom and.. I wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you or anything. I don’t think he would but you just ran away so fast.”

My face got red. “Oh yeah, we’re okay. It’s my fault. Have you seen him by the way? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“I think he left.” She said softly. “I saw him walk out the door after you went to the bathroom.”

My shoulders dropped in disappointment.. From myself. My hands came up to my eyes and I started to cry.

“Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” Meg asks again, getting closer and pulling me into a hug. I cry in her arms for a minute before pulling away and whipping my eyes.

“… Ransom and I have only been casually seeing each other for like 2 months now and.. I haven’t told him this but. I didn’t know how this Christmas was going to go. I met this guy last year around Christmas and I totally fell for him and it was way too fast and I think I scared him away, because by New Years day, he had blocked me on all social media and I never saw him again. I didn’t want to push Ransom like that… even though I think i’m way more into him than I ever was that douche I met last year. And I just got worried about falling too fast again if Ransom didn’t feel the same way. I know his history, with women and I like to think that i’m different but he’s never said so, and I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. We haven’t even had sex yet, i’m just worried. So i’ve been pushing him away and I think tonight was the last straw.” I explained.

Meg looked at me with sorry eyes before speaking up again. “Ransom is… something else. He’s an asshole. At least to us, we’re his family. But you? You’re something else. He’s never brought a girl to Christmas Eve.” She said. My eyes perked up from the floor, a confused look on my face.

“What?”

“Yup. I’m serious, I'm not bullshitting. All those other girls he’s been with were just fuck buddies, no need for us to meet them.”

“I-I.. I would think it wouldn’t matter to him because he hates coming to big family events, so why would it be important if he brought someone?”

“That’s true, he does hate being here. But, I think it’s more the fact that even though he is trying to make sure he doesn’t get cut off,” I giggle, “he still wants to spend Christmas with someone important… you.” She smiles at me and I know she’s telling the truth.

“Now, I can’t speak for him, but I do know him pretty well, believe it or not. Just.. give him some time. He’ll open up to you, I'm sure of it.” She smiled at me, giving me one more reassuring look and hugging me once, telling me to be safe and have a good night.

I walked out on the porch, closing the door behind me. I didn’t realize the figure standing by the window, until I just reached the steps and he spoke up.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” His deep voice startled me. I whip around and see Ransom leaning against the window next to the door, smoking a cigarette.

“W-what?” I asked, shocked that he was still here, expecting to either never hear from him again or at least have a little time to process my thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me that happened and that’s why you’ve been avoiding all physical contact with me?” He said, standing up from the wall and flicking his cigarette out of his hands.

“I-i’m sorry. We just.. Haven't made anything official… and I didn’t want to scare you away.” I mumbled under my breath, head looking down as his towering body came into my space. “Wait… you’re still here? You heard everything? You didn’t leave?” I asked, head pointing up to look him in the eyes.

“I thought about it. I was so pissed at you for just running away, acting like I was food you just threw out and I disgusted you. But I was outside smoking and was just about to leave when I heard you crying and talking to Meg. Baby, why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, pulling me in for a hug.

I was shocked at first but eventually returned the gesture, wanting nothing more than him to hold me in his strong arms on a cold winter night.

“Like I said,” I started off, crying softly into his shoulder, “Because of what happened last year, I was just scared to fall too fast. I didn’t want you to leave me because… because I could really see us being together. But I didn’t want to say anything, because it’s only been two months and it’s just casual, we’re not exclusive. You could be seeing other girls too, I don’t know, you’re not mine-”

“But I want to be.”

My eyes widened at the statement. I was taken aback. It wasn’t like he told me he loved me or anything… But it was a start.

“You what?”

“I wanna be yours, princess. Meg was… right. For once. You are so easy to open up too… and I want to. I appreciate so much that you didn’t want to scare me away. But I feel the same way you do. I haven’t been seeing any other girls since you. I don’t want to. I just want to see you. You make it so easy to be myself around you and even though my entire family hates me, you care about me, despite my flaws and you wanna be with me. I wanna be with you. I wanna be exclusive, I want people to know you’re my girlfriend.”

I felt my cheeks burning from the tears rolling down my eyes, Ransoms thumbs coming up to wipe them away and he laughed a little.

“M sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry, jus’ wanted you to know how I felt about you.”

I smiled so wide I thought my cheeks were going around my entire head. “So, you're not gonna leave me?”

“No angel, never. I’m gonna be right next to you when you wake up, for the rest of your life. You’re stuck with me.” He smiled, fingers still softly touching my cheeks. I took a chance and captured his lips with mine, finally giving him his christmas kiss. When we pulled away, he smiled at me again and then placed a kiss on my forehead, before grabbing my hand in his.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go. Christmas is tomorrow and I want you to stay with me. I have a lot of gifts to give you.… spoiler alert… they all kisses.”

[avenging-fandoms]

Watching a scary film with ransom and getting spooked, him taking the piss until he realises how scared you actually are 🥺🥺

“apparently this is really scary, a bunch of my guys told me even they were shitting themselves. but i don’t believe them” ransom sat down next to you and gave you the popcorn with a kiss.

“i don’t know, ransom, i saw people had to leave the movie theatre because it was that scary and gross” you took a couple pieces of popcorn and popped them in your mouth, ransom snickering.

“oh please, you’ll be fine” he pushed play on the remote and he shut the lights off, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into him. you nervously eat the popcorn from the bucket in between his lap, jumping at the jump scares which earns a soft smirk from ransom.

there was no denying the fact that the movie was scary, even ransom was. a bit scared. but he wasn’t jumping like you, and he thought it was hilarious, but you were nearly jumping out of your clothes.

during a part where the music was getting louder and the main character was inching down the hallway, ransom thought it was funny to pinch your sides and scream in your ear, and you jumped off the couch.

“are you serious, ransom?” you weren’t a huge fan on horror movies, you just wanted to watch on the night because it was halloween night. you throw your bag of candy at him and you step over his feet, walking to the bedroom. 

“babe, come on, i was kidding!” he sighed and dropped his hand on the couch, pausing the movie and playing with the string on his sweatpants and let you calm down. you laid on the bed with the blankets wrapped tightly around you, trying to distract yourself of the scary stuff you had just watched. ransom knocked softly on the door, creeping it open and looking at you. “baby, i was joking” 

“wasn’t funny ransom” you mumble, the bed dipping as ransom laid next to you and laid his hand on your side. “you saw i was scared and still did that to me? that was really mean” you rolled over and he traced his finger down your nose, over the line of your lips. 

“i didn’t realize that it really got you scared that much, i’m really sorry” he kissed you softly and you shrug, burying yourself into the blankets more. he tightened his grip around you, kissing your temple and you look up at him. “i really am sorry”

“thank you” you whisper, ransom kissing you softly and rubbing your back. 

“do you want to watch a disney movie instead?” you smile and nod, sitting up and turning on the tv, ransom holding you and rubbing your back softly until you fell asleep in his arms.