#knives out AU

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 1

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The clink of the spoon against the teacup echoed in the room. Your father, Tom, stared down at the tea, trying to keep his composure, but his heart ached for you.

He looked up at you sitting across from him. You could see the worry in his eyes, yet he seemed more concerned about you thinking he needed support, when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Eat the cookies. You need to eat. You’ve lost a lot of weight,” Tom said, pushing the plate of cookies closer to you. His voice was gentle but firm.

The cold plate touched your skin, jolting you back to reality. You couldn’t believe that you had once promised never to come back home. Your father looked so much older than the last time you saw him, seven years ago.

As you watched him, you could see the lines on his face, the graying hair, the tiredness in his eyes. He looked fragile, contrasting to the robust and indifferent man you remembered.

He used to be so distant and reserved, his eyes always seeming to look through you rather than at you. His mind was always elsewhere, consumed by his work. You remember feeling invisible as if you were never a priority in his life.

He doesn’t know that you were an outcast and bullied the whole time you grew up in this town. It was all because of his job and the house you lived in.

Flashback Starts

In this town, there was only one mortician—your dad. And the funeral home was connected to your house.

Kids your age made fun of you relentlessly. They called your father the angel of death and labeled your home as hell. The bullying started early and only intensified as you got older. By high school, it felt like there was no escape.

But then, a glimmer of hope arrived when a new kid from the city transferred to your school.

His name was Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey. He was sent to this small-town school because he was a troublemaker. The principal asked you to help Ransom, hoping you could help him.

At first, it was tough. Ransom was resistant, and his rough exterior matched the rumors about him. But you stayed patient and persistent.

Over time, Ransom began to open up to you. His academic performance started to improve, and slowly, a bond formed between you.

Because of Ransom’s improvement, you met his family for the first time. It turned out that Drysdale was a mighty name. His family owned a big bank.

This was the turning point. Ransom introduced you to his grandfather, Harlan Drysdale. “Grandpa, my friend here is a genius. She’s the one who solved the issues you’ve been stressing about. I just showed it to her to ask her opinion, and she solved it.”

Harlan, the patriarch of the company, exuded a charisma you had never seen before. He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and respect.

You felt nervous, your hands trembling slightly as you stood there. Harlan’s presence was intimidating, but there was a kindness in his eyes that put you at ease.

“Is that so?” Harlan said, a smile spreading across his face. “I’d like to hear more about this solution of yours.”

Ransom beamed with pride as he gestured for you to explain. You took a deep breath and started to talk about your idea, feeling a strange sense of confidence growing inside you. Harlan listened intently, nodding along, his expression thoughtful.

When you finished, Harlan leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. “You have a remarkable mind,” he said. “Ransom is lucky to have you as a friend.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt seen and appreciated. You glanced at Ransom, who gave you an encouraging nod.

Meeting Harlan and the Drysdale family marked the beginning of a new chapter. You were no longer just the mortician’s kid. You were someone with potential, someone who could make a difference.

The years of bullying and isolation started to feel like a distant memory, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and possibility.

He looked at you and slowly nodded. “For a high school student to solve a credit issue is amazing. I’m glad my grandson found a hidden talent.”

Your heart felt warm. You had never received such a compliment in your life.

“You will be a valuable asset in the future. Dear, are you interested in working with me?” Harlan asked.

“Yes, sir!” you replied quickly.

This was your golden ticket to leaving this town, having a better life, and succeeding.

After graduating high school, you packed your bags, said goodbye to your dad, and jumped into Ransom's car. As the car started moving, you didn’t glance back even once.

You had made your decision to leave everything behind.

You received a scholarship for college from the Drysdale charity, supported by a glowing recommendation letter from Harlan himself. You studied hard, like a person possessed, determined to graduate quickly and start working at the Drysdale company.

You graduated in two years and fulfilled your promise to work with Harlan. You gave it your all, becoming a workaholic to prove yourself.

Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself in the finance world. They called you the “female Midas” because every company's stock you bought saw its price soar.

Harlan was proud of you; you could see it in his eyes.

Then everything changed after Harlan died.

The company's business structure changed too, with Ransom in charge. You tried to talk to him, but he didn’t listen.

One day, the FBI raided your office and accused you of insider trading. You hadn’t done it, but the accusation hit hard. Even without proof, you lost friends, and your trading and financial licenses were revoked.

You called Ransom, but he didn’t pick up. You tried contacting the other Drysdales, but nobody wanted to help.

You had spent seven years celebrating Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas with them, but they still hadn’t accepted you.

You had poured your sweat, blood, and tears into this company, only to be thrown away. After everything, they still hadn’t accepted you. The way they made you feel like family, only to discard you, was a sick joke.

Even a wolf would accept a dog into its pack.

You sat alone in your empty apartment, your hands trembling with anger and betrayal. The silence was deafening, starkly contrasting to the lively gatherings you once shared with the Drysdales. The warmth you once felt from their acceptance had turned cold and hollow.

You looked at the framed photo on your desk, a picture of you and Harlan on the day you graduated. His proud smile felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your present.

You picked up your phone one last time, scrolling through the countless unanswered messages to Ransom and the Drysdales. Each one felt like a dagger, a reminder of the trust and loyalty you had given, only to be met with silence and abandonment.

You have lost everything. The court has taken your apartment, your car, and blocked your bank account until the investigation is done.

You feel ashamed and don’t have any close friends to turn to.

Your last hope is your hometown. With your small amount of cash, you pack your laptop and a few outfits and take the last train home.

When you call your dad, his voice sounds uncertain when he hears you’re coming home and ask if he can pick you up.

It’s late at night when you arrive. It’s just you and your dad. You’re grateful no one else is around to see you.

Tom looks nervous. He tries to ask you on the car ride home, “Did something happen?”

You close your eyes and lean your head against the window. “I’m tired. I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”

“Ah. Right. You must be tired,” Tom says, his voice shaky.

The silence in the car is heavy, filled with unspoken words. Tom glances at you occasionally, his worry evident in the rearview mirror. You can feel the weight of his concern, but you can’t bring yourself to talk about it yet.

When you finally pull up to the house, it looks the same as when you left. The familiarity is both comforting and painful. Tom helps you with your bags, his hands trembling slightly.

You only brought one bag, but he wanted to carry it, as if carrying your burden. He could feel that you were going through something.

Inside, the house is quiet. You head straight to your old room, which hasn’t changed much. The sight of it brings a lump to your throat.

You drop your bags and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling exhausted and defeated.

Tom lingers in the doorway, unsure of what to do. “If you need anything, just let me know,” he says softly.

“Thanks, Dad,” you reply, managing a weak smile. He nods and gently closes the door, leaving you with your thoughts. The weight of your situation presses down on you, but at least here, in this small room, you feel a glimmer of safety.

Flashback End

*******

The next morning, you woke up with no desire to move on. But seeing your dad already waiting for you, you couldn’t make him wait for an answer.

So you told him about the struggle you're facing right now.

Tom wasn’t ready for this. He thought you returned because your heart was broken by Ransom or you missed home. Or, you missed him.

After hearing every word that came out of your mouth, he couldn’t believe it. His only daughter had been betrayed like this.

“I need to stay here for a while,” you said. You would stay until you heard from the court. You had sent them evidence proving your innocence.

"Why did you say that like you're asking for permission? This is your home," Tom replied. He didn’t care if you were a criminal or a murderer. If you needed a place to hide, he would provide it for you.

"Thanks, Dad," you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

'Knock. Knock.'

You and Tom looked at the door. Only he stood up. It seemed like he was already expecting someone.

He opened the door. "You're here early," he said.

You sipped your tea, assuming the newcomer was just another guest of your dad's.

"Nothing ever goes wrong when you do things early," the voice said cheerfully and friendly.

You almost choked on your tea. The voice sounded all too familiar, and you prayed it wasn't who you thought it was.

"Thanks. I'll meet you at the morgue in 5 minutes," said Tom as he moved to close the door.

"Are you having a guest?" the person asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Tom replied, his voice a little tense.

"Why are you nervous? Do you have a special friend?" The teasing tone drew closer.

You closed your eyes and clenched your fists. You knew your dad, short and not as physically imposing, wouldn't be able to stop the tall, athletic man approaching.

"Y/N?" the voice said, confirming your worst fears.

You opened your eyes and saw the new guest. Locking gazes with him, you felt a surge of apprehension and dread. He was Bucky Barnes, the embodiment of your past torment.

You, the quiet, bookish nerd, and he, the charismatic, popular guy—Bucky represented everything you had once dreaded in high school. His group of friends constantly tormented you.

Crossing your arms tightly, you couldn't mask the edge in your voice. "What is he doing here?"

Tom's hesitant introduction only added fuel to the fire. "He's my apprentice," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"What does that mean?" you asked, your tone sharp.

Tom cleared his throat nervously. "Um, well... after I retire, I'll be passing the business on to Bucky."

You raised your eyebrows, not saying anything. Tom seemed nervous, perhaps worried that you were angry he hadn’t told you about this sooner.

Meanwhile, Bucky still looked stunned to see you standing there.

Leaning forward, you couldn't contain the resentment in your voice. "Him? Are you sure? He and his group made a mockery of this business every single day, taunting me whenever I set foot in school!"

The room fell silent, the tension thickening with each passing moment.

You had hoped to find refuge here, but now you were having second thoughts. The person who had bullied you was now working with your father and set to inherit the business. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@esposadomd

@sapphirebarnes

@cjand10

@bellabarnes1378

@thetravelingtyper

@buckitostan

@mostlymarvelgirl

@5upersoldiers1xt

@jjanereid

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[disregardcanon]

every time i rewatch knives out i get caught up in how harlan would still be alive if he'd just LISTENED to marta and let her call the ambulance. because the paramedics would get there and be like what the fuck there is nothing wrong with this man. miss cabrera are you absolutely certain you gave him the reversed doses? and they run a tox report and everything and marta shows them the vials and how she clearly took way more out of the one that would kill him in that amount and they're like... huh. i think we have to look into this deeper.

and then mr. stellar mystery writer realizes that there was ~fouuuulll plaaayyyy~ and talks them into admitting him into the hospital under the guise of it actually having been an overdose to try to sniff out what happened while pretending he's in a coma. i'm not sure how benoit blanc would get involved in this situation but he definitely would be. and ransom would be trying to figure out how to make sure that harlan dies of the overdose so that marta loses the inheritance due to the slayer rule... but joke's on him since harlan was never in danger anyway!

[steviebbboi]

Oh so angry! Looks like Ransom’s just decided your punishment and is ready to enact it. What did you do??

Gif source

A/N: Okay, OKAY, twist my arm! I didn't think this would be a whole ficlet but hereeee we are. Thank @bigtreefest for this hot lil number 🙂‍↕️

Disclaimer(s): This is an 18+ fic only (MINORS DNI). You are responsible for the content that you consume, please be mindful!

Warning(s): daddy/princess kink, praise kink, softDom!Ransom, spanking involved, protective and posessiveness from Ransom, maybe some naivety from the reader but their relationship is consensual and genuine, and a shitty Linda (ofc). Some mild degradation and explicit details of smut, and implied smut.

Word count: 1.8k~

Divider by @firefly-graphics <3

Ransom started giving you that look. The look that lets you know that you’ve pushed him too far. You were coming from another tyrannical Thrombey family dinner when your usual calm demeanor started to crack. All facilitated by one comment made by Linda.

“Ransom, you’re not serious about this harlot, are you?” 

You suppose that you should have been grateful that she had at least waited for you to be out of hearing distance, but her poor timing had resulted in you walking back into the parlor right about when she called you a harlot. 

The silence in the room as the rest of the family turned to look at you had been deafening. You also couldn’t help the grimace that took over your face once you saw all of their eyes on you (she didn’t exactly make it unknown that she didn’t like you but you just never expected for the facade to break). 

But it wasn’t really the comment made by Linda that ate at you. It was Ransom’s lack of response – his silence, that spurred that beginning burn of tears in your eyes that you didn’t dare let fall in front of them. 

Ransom stood there for a minute staring at Linda before he looked back at you. His face was so stoic and his jaw was clenched. He looked angry, but he still didn’t say anything. He merely got up from the armchair, strolled over to you to take your hand with his left and grab both of your coats in his right. Dragging you to the door with you stumbling behind him quietly, and you both left. 

During the car ride, tension filled the space like it hadn’t before. With his family, Ransom always gave you the pep talk of preparing for the worst with his parents’ lack of empathy, or Joni’s incessant, passive aggressive demeanor. But he never prepared you for his own added insult to injury. 

“I think that you should take me home tonight.” You mutter quietly interrupting the tense silence. The tears dried up and in place sat an air of resignation. You knew what you were getting into when you got into a relationship with Ransom–but this was an entirely new experience and you needed the time and space to process it. 

You could feel Ransom looking over at you as he drove. The trajectory of his destination hadn’t changed but he indicated that he heard you by suddenly pulling the car over on the empty road. 

Not even bothering to look over at him even as the car turns off, you sigh and turn away from him to stare out at the dark woods next to you. It was an eerie place to be in during the night, especially when there was already so much anxiety present in the space. 

“Look at me, Princess. Now.” Ransom said with such a firmness that you gave up your stonewalling and turned your head to meet his determined gaze. 

Once his eyes met your tired ones, you can see his expression soften. “Don’t listen to Linda. She’s a cunt of a woman who looks beneath any and all who aren’t Harlan, and you know it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and respond, “Ransom, you know that I can really give two fucks about what Linda says, or anyone would say about me.” 

He looked at you expectedly, “But?”

You feel a white rush of hot frustration seep into you as you say, “BUT I care about what you say about me! You didn’t even try to say anything back– would it kill you to just fight for me for once?” You didn’t wait for his response before continuing with your rant, “I think that you might even agree with her, I mean, are you even serious about me at all?!” 

Panting at the exertion of your accusation, you look away from the silent man and turn to look straight ahead to huff out one last defeated sigh. “Just take me home, please.”

More silence filled the enclosed space for what felt like an hour, in totality, it took really more like five minutes for Ransom to simply say, “Get out the car.”

Confused by the demand, you look over at him with a furrowed brow before catching that look on his face. The ‘look’. 

Swallowing thickly at noticing his expression, you stutter, “W-what?”

“You heard me. Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” He repeats with an even sterner tone. 

Shuffling for your seatbelt, you haphazardly push for the release until you could clumsily get out of the car. Anger taking over the confusion once more, you slam the door shut hard and make sure to flourish it with an exaggerated huff. 

A moment later, Ransom gets out of the car too (only increasing your initial confusion, heightening your frustration) and proceeds to walk to your end of the car only to bypass you and reach for the sedan’s back door to open it. 

Crossing your arms to keep up with your attitude, you look at him with a pointed frown. He looked over at you expectedly and demanded for you to get in the back. 

Now in a full blown tantrum, you stomp two steps over to duck back into the backseat of the car and force yourself to scoot over once Ransom stepped in behind you. 

Sitting next to him, you could feel the red hot anger boiling in your body while simultaneously also experiencing the lack of space between you. A different kind of heat fills you since you can’t help how attracted and in sync your body was with his. You pressed your thighs together and you felt a throb ripple between your legs. 

Without saying anything, you know that Ransom is analyzing your every move and has definitely noticed you clenching your thighs. Trying to cover it up, you cross your legs in fake boredom. But as your bare knee touches his, you let out a squeak as he suddenly pulls you by your crossed leg to straddle him. 

Suddenly you were on top of him, your arms instinctively going around his shoulders and resting on the seat cushion behind him. 

“Now that you’re facing me like a good girl, I want you to repeat what you just said to my face.” He merely said with that ‘look’ still on his handsome face. 

You were gripping his coat on either of his shoulders and bit your bottom lip, now unsure of how to gauge this reaction from him. “What do you me– ow!” You shriek.

In the middle of you asking, Ransom laid a sharp slap to your ass. You couldn’t help that your pussy reacted to the smack and you flush as you felt a gush of wetness seep through your thin panties.

“Ransom, what the fuc– argh!” He proceeded to slap your ass again. 

“Princess," I said: repeat what you just said to my face. Now.” Ransom said quietly.

Breathing heavier at the darkness in his tone, and the way that the space was only lit by one road light further down the path only emphasized the intensity of his request. The atmosphere felt weirdly intimate, like you were the only two in the world. 

“But which– ah!” A moan slipped this time as he slapped your ass, this time, it was harder. 

Ransom gave you a ‘tsk’ and said, “Princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl for Daddy?” 

You let out a small whimper and nodded your head pathetically. At the small tears gathering in your eyes, Ransom’s eyes softened a bit and he lifted one hand to stroke your hair away from your face to tuck it behind one ear. 

“I know you do, baby. So, do what Daddy is telling you. Repeat to me what you just said.”

You sniffle a bit before saying, “Are you serious about me at all?” Instead of this being repeated in frustration and anger, it was said meekly. The truth was that you have always felt a little insecure in your relationship together. He was Ransom Drysdale. He had status, means, resources. And you were the opposite of all of those things. You suppose you always felt like you were waiting for him to finally realize that and dump you to find someone else more suited to his needs.

Ransom cooed at you, as if he was able to read your mind, before stroking your hair again, “See, pretty baby, was that so hard?” He unzipped your coat slowly and threw it over to the passenger seat before lifting up the skirt of your dress to reveal your soft ass merely covered by a lacy thong.

He fondled your cheeks for a minute, humming his satisfaction at how smooth your skin felt, and how there was so much of you for him to grip onto. He gripped both of your cheeks suddenly with both of his hands and you let out a squeak in reaction to his tight grasp. 

The ���look’ returned to his face once more and he made sure to capture your hooded gaze with his own. “Don’t you ever doubt how serious I am about you, Princess. You know that Daddy loves taking care of you, right? So much so that I knew that those fuckers didn’t deserve another minute of your time. We left because they don’t deserve the luxury of a response from me, nor do they deserve it from you. Understand now, pretty baby?”

Actively listening to him, you proceeded to let out the tears that you’ve been holding back while nodding your understanding. It all makes sense now- Ransom has always tried to protect you from his family. He valued your presence and respected your time enough that his first instinct was to get you out of that space and back to a place where you are very much wanted – with him.

Ransom only gave you a soft smile at the sight of your tears. He was proud of you for listening to him and for seeing things from his perspective. He’s only ever wanted to keep you safe, and he made sure to remind you of that every single time you’ve ever misaligned with that view. Your cute reactions and tears only further confirmed for him that he was the only one that could ever keep you like this. No one can ever take you away from him.

You shift in his arms a bit to get more comfortable and you release a quiet gasp at the same time that he lets out a sharp inhale as you both notice how his hands then naturally lowered so that the tips of his outer fingers were now barely brushing the covered lace of your pussy. 

Ransom hums out a low growl while he proceeds to stroke along your inner thighs towards the wet spot on your underwear. He starts slowly rubbing the thin fabric that covered your clit. You mewled again, feeling so turned on already from his punishment but also from how much care you were feeling from him at that moment.

“Now, Princess, we’re going to stay here while I spank this pretty little pussy until you remember how much I love you.” 

Welp! Honestly, is a punishment from Ransom ever really a punishment? 😏 I also just love a soft!dom!Ransom tbh.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated and v welcomed :) thank you for reading!

Join My Tag List!

****if you wanna be notified on my work (and next updates)!

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Oxytocin

Title: Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Fandom: Knives Out AU

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC (Ivy Kensington)

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington. 

Warnings: age gap (Ivy is 38, Ransom is 19 in flashbacks), Mommy kink, Mommy Domme/baby boy, dry humping, orgasm denial, mention of virginity, aftercare, size kink, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing

A/N: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Ransom Drysdale BINGO were: dry humping, mommy kink, orgasm denial, virginity, size kink. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge(Pragma – longstanding love). Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta, you saved me from myself!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Spotify playlist is here.

My Masterlist

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Ransom’s world stopped. The sound of her laughter, the glow of her chestnut skin, the way her deep brown irises held his focus; he couldn’t choose his favorite of her attributes. He watched as she commanded the attention of the room as she regaled her guests with tales of her various adventures traveling the globe.

He was only nineteen when he met her that New Year’s Eve night. Ivy Kensington. She was thirty-eight and newly divorced. The poor bastard that let her slip through his fingers must be insane, Ransom thought to himself. He loved how lively she was, as if divorce was exactly what she needed to feel alive.

He doesn’t know what possessed him that night to walk right up to her but, God help him, he thanks his lucky stars that he did. As he approached her, his hopes were high. Until she noticed him, turning to acknowledge the younger man. When he went to open his mouth, it flopped open and then closed after several seconds of awkward silence.

A grin spread across her face before she spoke, “You have got to be Linda and Richard’s son. Handsome like your father, and venturesome just like your mother. Now, what did you walk all the way over here for? Looked like you were about to say something interesting,” she teased, a hand going to her hip as she shifted on her feet.

“Ransom. That’s my name. Uh, I just…what I mean to say is, um-”

“Slow down, baby boy,” she soothed, stopping him mid-ramble to step closer so she could hold his chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger, “What did you want to say, Ransom?”

Her gaze drew him in, and he instantly felt at ease, gaining his voice back. “I wanted to know if you had plans for midnight, Mrs. Kensington. You know, the kiss?” he asks, voice trembling only slightly.

“It’s Ms. Kensington. You want to be my midnight kiss?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, “That is very bold of you to ask, especially coming from a virgin,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead at the mention of his still intact virginity. Up to this point, no one knew he’d never been laid. He’d had his share of kissing, sure. Every time he wanted to go the distance, it never panned out. But how could she tell?

“You’re wondering how I know. You just have that look about you. Not necessarily innocent, more like naïve. And damn lucky that I don’t already have a kiss lined up. Meet me up there at midnight,” she instructed, peeking up the stairs to the area overlooking the party.

All Ransom could do was nod, for fear that opening his mouth would be a repeat of his earlier blunder.

“Now, shoo. I have other guests to entertain, and that precious face of yours will surely divert my attention,” she insisted, her hand patting his baby-faced cheek as she walked around him.

Ransom was left gobsmacked. He succeeded at talking to a woman. Well, he only succeeded with her help, but he’s not gonna mention that if anyone asks. For all intents and purposes, he’s arranged a secret rendezvous with an older woman. No elaboration was necessary, according to him at least.

For the next few hours, Ransom not-so-sneakily kept an eye on wherever Ivy went. He wouldn’t call it stalking her. He was just protecting his interests. He watched as man after man came up to Ivy, crowding her personal space. Ransom was seething quite visibly until he saw how elegantly she dispatched each potential suitor, politely letting them down and sending a look his way to let him know she saw him in the crowd.

He stopped sneering as much after that. She could handle herself just fine without him lurking. He knew that now, but it didn’t stop his eyes from searching for her the rest of the night. 

As 9 turned into 10 and 10 turned into 11, he busied himself with sitting on one of the exquisite phthalo green velvet couches in the parlor. He looked at all the knickknacks that Ivy must have picked up on various excursions around the world. For a moment, he felt like he may be underwhelming to such an amazing woman. But he let that thought die as people started to count down from ten in the other room.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, taking the long staircase two steps at a time to get to the top where Ivy stands waiting for him. Standing in front of her, his focus tied to her and only her. As the partygoers counted down to 1, his hand snaked around her shorter form and pulled her close.

Their breaths mingled; body heat was shared between them. The instant their lips met; it was over. As if the entire party vanished, neither of them tried to keep the kiss innocent. Deepening the kiss, Ransom used his tongue to massage hers, eliciting a deep rumbling moan out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Emboldened by his position, he let his hand slide down past the small of her back to her ample backside. Giving it a healthy squeeze, he sighed into the kiss when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

As Ivy broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his as they both caught their breath. Ivy lifted her head and smiled as she saw her garnet-toned lipstick smeared across his lips. He looked thoroughly debauched between the makeup on his face and the state of his hair. This simply would not do.

At his furrowed brow, she removed herself from his embrace and took his hand in hers. Pulling him down the long hallway, they entered the master bedroom and made their way to the attached bathroom. He finally caught his reflection in the mirror as she grabbed a makeup wipe from the cabinet. She cleaned his face while holding his jaw as if she thought he would try and escape from her grip. His gaze stayed on her face the entire time.

It had been so long since someone cared for him in this way. He watched as she threw away the wipe in the trash and finger-combed through his hair, making him presentable once again. In a flash, he was in a trance, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He felt so safe with Ivy like she could tell him to do anything, and he would do it without question. He was so deep into subspace that he barely registered Ivy calling his name as he blankly stared at her.

“Ransom? Talk to me, baby,” she encouraged, the back of her hand sweeping down his cheek. His eyes closed as she administered the simple yet desirable touch. 

His mouth opened as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, but no words followed his actions. Ivy guided him back to the bedroom to sit down on the King-sized bed. All the while, he remained focused on her. 

“Alright, baby boy, you gotta help me out here. Where did you go? Come on back to Mommy,” she prodded, surprised when Ransom bit his lip at her use of the word Mommy. Her eyes grew dark, and she understood instantly what he needed from her.

She instructed him to lay back on the bed and he did so promptly. The tent in his pants highlighted his arousal as she climbed over his lap. His hands moved on their own to pull her hips flush with his, but she swatted them away.

“Ask for permission to touch Mommy, baby boy,” she directed, her hands ghosting over his chest as he breathed shallowly.

“May I please touch you, Mommy?” he begged, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“After being so polite, how can I say no to my baby boy?” she conceded, reaching up to let the top of her dress down so her breasts could spill out, “You may touch Mommy, baby.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” he mewled, gripping one breast in each hand as she sat down on his clothed cock. 

She felt his length and girth with how hard he was. He felt the heat coming from her pussy as she ground into him. They both felt the intensity in the air surrounding them. When Ivy leaned down to let Ransom suckle her breast, he did so with a little too much enthusiasm at first. Once he got into a rhythm, he relished that he was able to pull soft whines from her.

Soon enough, he began to feel the tightening chokehold of his impending orgasm. He stopped sucking on her tits and chased after his inevitable end. But he was interrupted by Ivy’s words and the abrupt halt of her hips.

“Baby boy, if you want to cum tonight, you’re gonna need to make Mommy cum first. Is that understood?” she challenged.

“Yes, Mommy,” he sputtered, groaning when she started to grind into him again.

She rode him like her life depended on it, and honestly, when an orgasm was on the horizon, it felt pretty on the nose. He watched her face as she succumbed to the continuous poking of the tip of his dick into her swollen nub. He coveted the way her legs tightened around him, imagining what it would feel like to be inside her when she cums.

That thought proved to be overwhelming and while she was coming down from her high, he followed right after her. Like waves crashing into a pier, his climax washed over him. White-hot heat rushed through his cock as it spilled his jizz inside his pants. Ivy, in all her glory, never stopped riding him as he came. Even as it became too much and he whimpered for her to stop, she only slowed down. She enjoyed it so much, watching him fall apart under her.

As a tear escaped his eye, she let up on her cruel punishment of his overworked length. She removed herself from his lap and crawled up the bed to take him in her arms. His breathing had calmed down and he laid his head against her chest, idly sucking on one nipple as he lay there. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down at him, effortlessly putting him at ease. 

They stayed that way until Ransom started to squirm in her arms, surely not enjoying the way his cum was starting to dry against his skin. She cleaned him up in the bathroom, her mouth gaping open when she finally caught sight of the sheer size of his cock. If she was ever going to get to ride it, she would need a lot of prep. He put a hand over hers when she unconsciously began to pump his soft penis.

She thought he had been trying to get her to stop but was surprised when he only wanted to change the pace of her hand. He threw his head back when she tightened her fist and knelt in front of him. Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, he babbled nonsense for a moment until his balls drew up and he shot milky ropes into her waiting mouth. His hands went to her shoulders and unsteady legs doing their best to hold him up after blowing his load twice.

He had heard of post-nut clarity, but he was experiencing something completely different. Perhaps akin to love, but not as deep. He watched as she swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe he was wrong, feeling more and more entranced by Ivy with every second they spent together.

She fixed her dress and her lipstick, leaving the red smudges on his cock with a smile as she zipped him up. She took him further down the hall to a hidden stairwell that led into the kitchen. They had evaded any prying eyes from partygoers, making it seem like they had been in this room the whole time.

Famished from earlier activities, they munched on hors d’oeurves and made comfortable small talk. All earlier nervousness was a distant memory as they laughed and carried on like two lovesick teenagers.

Well, like one lovesick teenager and a grown-ass woman. At this point, age was nothing but a number. A number that neither of them cared about. They exchanged numbers, making a point to see one another again.

Eventually, they made it back into the party. Ivy made sure to say a lengthy farewell to Ransom’s parents, praising them for raising such a gentleman much to the shock of Richard and Linda, but they recovered gracefully. Shortly thereafter, the Drysdales made their exit.

During the car ride home, Richard joked that Ransom had a schoolboy crush on Ivy. ‘If they only knew,’ he thought to himself.

Over the rest of his winter break from college, Ransom spent more and more time with Ivy where she taught him tip after hint after trick about pleasing a woman. It was less out of the goodness of her heart and more about the kismet between them. She enjoyed his banter as much as his body. He loved coming to her place for a home-cooked meal and the company of a woman who thought the world of him.

When the winter break ended, Ransom spent his last night in town with Ivy. Of course, his parents showed barely any interest in the fact that he was leaving early or who he was spending his time with. In their eyes, he was not only an adult, but also no longer their problem. 

Ransom had hoped that finally, Ivy would let him make love to her. But she felt a strange sense of moral obligation when it came to him losing his virginity. As much as she wanted to be his first, she didn’t want him to get even more attached to her. She knew he was in love, and if she let herself follow him, it would not end pretty. Better to end their little doomed romance now, before either of them could get hurt.

Explaining all of this to him went better than she expected. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tightening as he looked away from Ivy. She counted to five before reaching a hand to his shoulder, surprised when his hand covered hers. 

Unshed tears shone in his eyes when he turned to look back at her again. Maintaining eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of her knuckles. He still relished the way her breath caught in her throat when he showered her with affection.

“No matter what happens, just remember this moment. It’s just us here, no one else. If this is the last moment we share, let’s make it worth it,” he pressed, praying for all the world that she would change her mind.

“Ransom, this isn’t exactly easy for me. I want you, please know that. But you deserve to have a relationship with someone. Perhaps, someone closer to your age. Someone with shared experiences. I would only be holding you back. That is my honest opinion,” she sniffed, continuing to reluctantly push him away.

“I won’t ever stop wanting you. You make me feel things I never thought were possible. I just wish I could give you a fraction of what you give me,” he lamented.

“Trust me, you have made an impact on my life. Who knows? Maybe one day down the line, we could get together and get a cup of coffee and laugh about this,” she hinted, hoping he would take her olive branch.

“I hope we can. I’m gonna hold you to it,” he beamed, a grin painting his features and replacing the sad look he once wore, “I should get going, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, standing and letting him lead the way. 

She wasn’t surprised at all when he kissed her neck while hugging her. Nor when he predictably trailed kisses over her jaw and up to her lips. But she couldn’t hold back her delight when he nibbled at her bottom lip and soothed away the sting with his tongue.

For a moment, when he leaned back from her, they just looked into each other’s eyes. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary at this point. Every moment, every kiss, every shared laugh was worth it to be able to share this last long gaze.

As soon as Ivy closed the door behind Ransom, she slumped to the floor and cried her eyes out.

That night, as he drove home from Ivy’s estate, Ransom shed tears all the way back to his dorm room. 

17 Years Later

Ransom is in town for a New Year’s Eve party thrown by his grandfather. He’s grown to loathe the damned holiday and it’s not a wonder why. He’s only there to make an appearance and swiftly leave before having to make awkward small talk with his parents. While sneaking into the kitchen to find the secret stash of cookies, he overhears a sound he hasn’t heard in so long but would recognize it anywhere.

He follows the source of the laughter and is astounded to see her standing and speaking to his grandfather. Entering the living room fully, he clears his throat and they both look at him. The look on Ivy’s face of pleased anticipation threw gasoline on a fire in his soul that he thought had long gone out.

“Ivy Kensington, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest grandson. Ransom Drysdale, meet Ivy,” Harlan remarks, not knowing that these two are very well-acquainted already. Harlan excuses himself, leaving them alone in the room.

“Ransom, I-”

“You look amazing,” he blurts, cutting her off before she can say anything.

They share a laugh, a moment of excitement and comfort between them. Staring into each other’s eyes told them everything they needed to know. 

And as the partygoers start to count down from 10, they realize they have been sitting in the living room for hours exchanging stories of the past and what they were up to now. The worries they had once upon a time were all gone. All that was left was the sliver of opportunity that wafted in the air once they shared a kiss.

The passion was there as if it was still so many years ago. As if Ransom didn’t have laugh lines or crow’s feet when he smiled. As if Ivy wasn’t sporting a few perfectly groomed grey hairs sprouting about in her curls. As if that final goodbye wasn’t all that final.

And that was as good a place as any to start.

A/N: OK so this was my first time writing Ransom and I made him kinda soft as puppy toes in most of this. I hope you enjoy it.

**Tag List**

@blackwood4stucky @peyton-warren

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[abbatoirablaze]

Welcome To The Dollhouse, Lloyd's Angel

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  mentions of edging, implied multiple partners, daddy kink, implied mfm, mentions of cannibalism.

“Welcome to the doll house, sunshine!” Lloyd grinned widely.  He held his arms open as though it was some sort of grand gesture to his spoiled protege.  A few of the women giggled as they walked by, being sure to look over their shoulder at Lloyd. 

The man in his late thirties had a glimmer in his eye as he showed his newest partner the benefits of being an independent contractor on the dark side of the world for some of the most nefarious men. 

“What the hell is this?” Ransom asked curiously as he stepped forward.  Lloyd clapped the New England man on the shoulder and squeezed it excitedly.

“This is the best pussy in the world is what it is,” he chuckled, “and they’re only available to us, you hear?  So don’t go inviting your little party-boy friends to this place…you have to be a member.”

“You mean…”

“We’re active contractors, Drysdale…active and high-class,” Lloyd smirked as he looked around the room for someone in particular, “we aren’t your average hit men…”

“No shit…”

“Lemme show you around,” he chuckled, leading the slightly younger man further into first main room past the entryway, “see if you find anything that makes you wanna get your dick wet.  At least until I find my girl…then you’re on your own.”

“Your girl?” Ransom scoffed, “calling a high-class whore ‘your girl,’ is a bit pa-“

Before Ransom could finish his sentence, Lloyd turned, and slammed him up against the wall and held him by his neck.  His eyes were wild as he glared at his protégé.  Ransom could feel the weak plasterboard wanting to give behind his back, “don’t you go talking about my sweet little thing…I may be showing you the ropes, but I’ll hang you from one if you eve-“

“Daddy…”

Lloyd froze, hearing the scared voice of his Angel. 

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, more to himself as he pushed himself away from Ransom.  Lloyd took a moment for himself, smoothing out his shirt and taking a deep breath, and Ransom noted how the darkness seemed to fade away from him all at once before he turned towards the voice, “Angel…sweetheart…what are you doing out of your room?  You’re supposed to be studying!”

“I got excited,” she admitted as she bit her lip.  Ransom smoothed out his clothes and stepped forward until he was nearly beside Hansen.  The man who was only a few years older than him shot him a glare out of his peripherals, causing him to stop short.  But he could see the woman well enough.  She had to be in her late twenties and was wearing a schoolgirl outfit where the shirt was nearly see-through, and the skirt that looked like it would expose her if she sneezed.  Ransom found himself eyeing her up and down, his eyes trailing down her tanned, tone thighs to where the garter belt stopped, “daddy did you bring a friend for me to play with?”

Ransom’s eyes shot up back to hers before he shot Hansen a look.  He noticed Lloyd’s jaw twitching, a clear indication that he’d had no intention of sharing the woman before them, “he’s new to the Doll House, Angel…I figured we’d let him have a go at one of the girls while daddy shows you how much he’s missed you…”

“But I wanna play with both of you, daddy…” she whimpered, batting her thick lashes at both men.  A shockwave ran through Ransom’s spine and sent a pulse straight to his cock.  The woman reached out her hands and took one of Lloyd’s and one of his.  He shot Lloyd another look, and he caught the fact that while Lloyd didn’t look back at him, his mustache twitched, “it’s been so long since you’ve been back…I need so much attention.”

Lloyd stood up a little straighter, slightly irritated by the insinuation that she needed more than just him, “gonna be a brat for daddy?  You know what that gets you, Angel…”

“Daddy,” she whimpered yet again, giving him the sweetest doe eyes that she could manage.  Lloyd dropped her hand and out of instinct she dropped Ransom’s, her full attention going back to Lloyd, “daddy…don’t be mean…”

“Mean,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at her, “you think I’m being mean?  You’re the one acting like my cock isn’t enough to fill that tight little cunt and stretch her to her limits…and in front of everyone…I was hoping you’d be my good little angel and find daddy’s friend a playmate…not try to snatch him up for yourself like a greedy little whore!”

The woman paled and her eyes glittered. 

Ransom felt his stomach turning as the woman before him looked like she was going to cry. 

“Lloy-“

She went to turn to run away from him, but Lloyd grabbed her arm and spun her around until her back was flush against his chest.  Ransom looked around, curious to see if anyone was paying attention to the conflict in the room, but the girls all seemed preoccupied with other men or one another.  It was like the scene playing out in front of him was something that they attributed to as being normal.

“You’re not being a very good girl, Angel…you’re acting more like an ungrateful little slut,” Lloyd whispered against her ear.  She shivered and Lloyd smiled, “you’re going to be a good little girl and go to your room…I’ll give you what you want because I’m a reasonable man…and when it comes down to it, daddy loves you, Angel, and you know that…but I better not hear you crying about me being the mean one…or you’ll get an extra punishment after he’s had a go at you and it’s just the two of us.”

He released her without a second thought, and she was quick to run in the direction of the stairs and up to what Ransom assumed was her room.  He swallowed nervously as he looked at Lloyd, “What in the hell was that?”

“My girl wants to play with both of us,” he said simply.  His eyes scanned the room, and it was obvious to Ransom that Lloyd was upset by the situation, “and while I don’t usually let her play with others, because I don’t play well with others, today is actually her birthday.  And-“

“It’s her birthday?”

“That��s why we made the stop here,” he said as though it were obvious, “this was well out of our way, Drysdale.  Figured I’d make a little stop off here and wish her a good night, then stuff her full of me, and be out of here, sipping a latte while we board the jet to the next job.”

“So, you just…what…you’re going to fuck her then walk away?” Ransom asked, curious about their situationship, “What about when you’re not here?”

“I pay for her room,” he shrugged, “no one else touches my Angel without my saying so.  And I pay for her to go school when I’m not around, so she’s got something to do…my baby may look like a dumb little slut, but she’s got an engineering degree and she’s working on her master’s in chemistry…when I finish what I need to, my angel is going to come work for me…but until then, I know she’s safe.”

“And she doesn’t care?”

Lloyd chuckled, rolling his eyes at the playboy as he led him up the steps and towards her room, “of course she cares.  Last time I came by she nagged me about taking her home…said she missed me.  That was four months ago.”

“Four months?”

Lloyd shrugged once more, “stayed for four days…one for each month I was gone.  Made her write pages on pages saying that she was a brat who needed her daddy to keep her in line all the while I had her warm my cock.  Held a wand to her pretty little cunt and told her if she soaked my boxers, she wasn’t going to be able to walk by the time I left.  Edged her for hours like that.   She was shaking while she wrote.  God it was amazing…”

“Jesus…”

“What?” Lloyd chuckled, “that’s nothing compared to what some of the others do…there’s this guy, Kemp…bought Angel’s younger sister and another woman.  Looks at Angel’s sister like the purest goddess you can imagine, but he edges the hell out of her.  I actually got that idea from him.”

“He’s got two girls?”

“Eats the one bit by bit, but yeah,” Lloyd shrugged, not wanting to talk about the weird situation with the cannibal, “he’s got two girls, but it should really count as one and three quarters by now.”

Ransom’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “He eats her?”

“Still not the weirdest thing that’s happened around here,” he shrugged, “got all kinds of guys here. Don’t worry about the cannibal though…that’s a consensual thing.  The girl was jealous that Kemp is in love with Angel’s little sister and offered herself up to him…and well, there are some guys around here that are into the whole missing body parts thing, so she makes a comfortable living off it, and decides when he gets to have his little feasts…she gets her own little sense of control from it, so don’t go feeling bad for her.”

“What the actual hell?” Ransom asked, the disgust seeping from his tone. 

“Rule one,” Lloyd said as he stopped in front of a door, “don’t judge what the others do.  This is the Doll House…and exclusive community of some of the most dangerous men on the face of the planet.  And these girls don’t get out, so they like to talk.  You don’t want to have any issues if you don’t have to, so don’t confide in a girl unless she’s your endgame, got it?”

“Yeah…sure…”

“Rule two,” Lloyd began once more, “Angel really is my girl…you ever come here without me and touch her, I will kill you…no questions asked.  Is that understood?”

“Is there a rule three?”

“Yeah…don’t go after Angel’s little sister,” Lloyd said clearly, “last guy that did was a super soldier and the cannibal took his arm and ate it.  And he liked the guy…he’s fucking crazy.”

“The guy that eats people or the guy missing his arm?”

“Both!” Lloyd huffed, “we may be some dark guys, but we’ve got a system.  Stay in your lane and don’t play with a doll that doesn’t belong to you and you should be fine…and don’t worry about trying to sort it out.  The girls will tell you if they belong to someone.  Usually if they’re in the main rooms though and not a bedroom, they’re game.”

“W-why did you bring me here, Lloyd?”

Lloyd smiled as he clapped the younger man on the shoulder, “It’s because you’re my protégé, Drysdale, you’re a member.  So welcome to the Doll House.”

[wiypt-writes]

Brothers In Arms

Part 9: I Believe In You

Summary: You and Ransom take time to heal, both yourselves and each other, and look forward to a future without having to glance back over your shoulders…

Warnings: Bad language, violence, smut (NSFW) 18+ guns and stuff…

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader.

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

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

So this is it, the tenth and final part. There will be an epilogue eventually but for now it’s goodbye to Ran and his Princess. Thank you to all who have read and reblogged along the way. And to my darling beta @spectre-posts 💙❤️

Brothers in Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 9

W/C: 6.5k ish…

With Ari’s blessing, you stayed in Boston for a few days.

Okay, maybe blessing would be pushing it a little too far. It was more like a begrudging acceptance, punctuated with sarcasm about how you favoured that asshole to your own brother.

You knew he was mostly joking, however. That said, when you got news that Ari was being discharged, you flew back to New York, to be there for your brother.

Three days after that, Ransom was given the okay to return to Queens, under strict instructions to take it easy.

When the two of you had talked, you’d made it clear that your reconciliation was taking place at your speed. You hadn’t been quite ready to jump all the way back in just straight away. Instead, you wanted to take it slow, build what you had back up from the very foundations which had been shook.

So far you had spent most of your days with Ransom at the mansion whilst he was still recovering. Be it watching TV or taking short walks around the grounds. You cooked or ordered in, snuggled up together but each night you’d drawn the line in the sand and headed back to Ari’s, your intimacy not passing the kissing stage.

Ransom hadn’t argued, he hadn’t pushed. He’d simply agreed to give you the time you needed, his only request being that if you still weren’t ready to move back in by the time the baby arrived, you at least agreed to stay in the house and he would go back to his penthouse, to allow you and your future son or daughter somewhere comfortable to begin your life together.

You’d agreed, although you knew deep-down it wouldn’t come to that. You wanted to move on. You forgave Ransom, you had to if you wanted to make things work. You just needed the time to navigate this new start, but you were confident you could.

You smiled at Ransom, as he stood in the open doorway as you pulled up the drive.

“You should be resting.” You looked at him. He was dressed casually, in a pair of dark blue denims and a cream cable knit cashmere sweater.

“I’m fine.” He rolled his eyes as you stopped in front of him. You stood on your toes to peck him on the lips. He then moved back to let you walk into the hallway.

You smiled a little at the Christmas decorations that had been installed over the weekend. Usually you liked to decorate yourself, but with everything that had been going on, and the fact you were now two weeks into December, you’d agreed to let Ransom pay for someone to come and do it.

“Have you drunk enough water?” He asked and you couldn’t help the chuckle. Today was your first ultrasound, the first time you’d get to see your baby and hear its heartbeat. And of course, Ransom had been reading up all about the process.

“I…yeah, I guess. I mean I’m peeing every fifteen minutes or so. In fact, I need to go now.”

Ransom snorted as you headed off and made his way to the kitchen to wait for you. Soon you joined him, and he slid a small water bottle to you from the fridge, along with some carrot sticks which seemed to be a snack you couldn’t get enough of at the moment.

“Carter or Blanc can drive us today.” He offered, “I would myself but…”

“You’re not allowed yet.” You chuckled, swallowing your snack. “I can drive, it’s no issue. I drove here.”

Ransom popped a shoulder. “I’d prefer it if you let them, please.”

You looked at him and then smiled softly, deciding to let him have his way. “Okay.”

“And I thought if you wanted after, we could go for lunch.”

“Sounds great.” You nodded.

After a quick cup of coffee, decaf for you, you headed out to the car and we’re soon pulling up outside the private clinic.

Ransom stepped out first, and you didn’t miss the little wince he gave. You sighed and then leaned between the seats to speak quickly to Carter.

“Thank you, I know you know what’s going on.”

“Don’t know what you mean, Miss.” he shot back, flashing you a wink.

With a smile, you moved to step out of the car and took Ransom’s hand.

“Do we find out what it is today?” Ransom asked as you walked into reception, and you laughed.

“No, I’m only…well, about 8 weeks or so. We won’t see that for a good few months. That is if we decide to.”

“Oh.” He then blinked. “You don’t wanna find out?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “maybe, maybe not. I like the idea of it being a total surprise.”

Ransom smiled and pulled your hand up to kiss your wrist, “whatever you want, baby.”

Soon enough, you were called in after waiting in a small, comfortable room and you led on the bed, the cold jelly spreading over your stomach as the doctor moved the wand. Your ears then filled with the rhythmic thumping and your eyes caught the first glance of your baby on the little screen.

You smiled and glanced at Ransom, his eyes were fixed on the image, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

The Doctor smiled, then showed you where your baby’s head was, their heartbeat.

“And from the size then, yes, I’d estimate you’re between seven and eight weeks. So that gives us a due date of…the 29th of July.”

You swallowed and dropped your head. You’d secretly been hoping for s miracle, that you wouldn’t actually be that far along. But you knew deep down that had been stupid. Because no matter how much you did the maths, no matter what apps you keyed the dates of your cycle into, it still came back to the same thing. That your baby was likely conceived at any point really from 28th October to 12th November. It could belong to either of the twins.

“Can…can I get a copy, can we get a copy?” Ransom asked, his eyes still on the screen as he raised your hand to his lips.

“Absolutely.” The Doctor smiled. “I’ll grab you one now and we’ll get you booked in for your next ultrasound and I’ll get you some information leaflets on our Lamaze classes.” She smiled as Ransom leaned over to kiss your head. You spluttered as you wiped your eyes. “Is there anything you wanna ask me?”

Ransom launched into a myriad of questions about what you could and couldn’t do, what you had to stop eating, drinking and you couldn’t help but some out, instead focusing on his face.

You took a deep breath, and as you watched Ransom intently listening to the doctor, your heart swelled. Your momentary wobble flew from your mind as you were reminded that it didn’t matter. He was all in, you could see that. As far as Ransom was concerned, this baby was his. And when you logically thought about the odds, it probably was.

You’d agreed when you’d decided to make things work, not to dwell on any of this. And now it was time for you to live up to the bargain. Your baby was a Drysdale, not a Rogers.

You heard the Doctor tell you she’d be back soon, and you smiled as she wiped the gel from your stomach and left.

Ransom turned to you, your hand still held in his. “You okay, Princess?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded, “that was just…”

“Yeah…did you see him?”

“Oh, it’s a him?”

“Yup.” Ransom nodded, smirking. “My son and heir.”

“You know, it might be a girl. Girls are just as capable of being bad asses.” He playfully wrinkled his nose, and you slapped his arm. “Oh, wait till I tell Natasha your opinions on-”

“Err, there’s no need for that.” He cut you off, chuckling. The room fell silent, and he took a deep breath, his hand round yours as he looked at the floor. “Listen, Y/N. I know…I know we said we’d take things at your pace, and I’m, well, maybe happy to do that is the wrong phrase, but I understand. I know it’s what you want, and it’s the least I can do after…after everything I did, because I don’t deserve you.”

“Ran, please…we agreed not to dwell-“

“No, I know…lemme finish, please baby.” His blue eyes bore into yours, imploring you to let him have his day and you closed your mouth. You watched him, as the hand that wasn’t wrapped around yours moved into his pocket. When he brought it back out, you blinked as you recognised the small ring box he held in his palm. “I’d like you to have this back. It’s yours. And…maybe when you’re ready, you can put it back on. Whenever that may be…if you…if you ever are.”

You licked your lips and swallowed the lump in your throat, but it stuck in your chest. You inhaled through your nose and sighed out of your mouth. You bit the inside of your cheek. The look in his eyes appeared defeated. It didn't sway the way your heart felt. Your eyes flicked back to the box. Then you nodded and gently took it.

Ransom exhaled loudly as you smiled and nodded towards your bag.

“Imma need to put it in there…”

"Okay," he nodded. He figured that was what you wanted.

He passed it over and you stored the box carefully, zipping it into the compartment for safe keeping.

Soon enough, the two of you were on your way, copied of the ultrasound pictures with you. He took you to lunch in the Harbor. The changing of the seasons didn't make for a great view, but the gesture was there. The pair of you chatted, in a way you’d always been able to. About anything and everything.

Certain subjects were off limits, elephants in the room. But it was smooth. The ride back to the mansion was quiet but not unbearable. Your mind whirred. So much had gone on in the last few hours it seemed, and it had you thinking. Your eyes would flick to your bag at your feet, and you'd chew on your cheek.

“Princess?”

"Hmm?" You hummed softly.

“Are you coming in or do you want to head back to…to Ari’s?”

"I'd like to stay a little longer," you admitted.

“You can stay as long as you want.” Ransom took a deep breath. “If it was up to me you’d never leave.”

You softly smiled at the sentiment as he opened his door. He strode round to yours and offered you his hand.

You took it and allowed him to help you out of the car. His hand settled on the small of your back as he led you to the front doors. Once inside, he took the time to follow you into the foyer and then toward the kitchen where you left your bag on the island. You took the ultrasound images out of your purse and set the on the marble.

"Can I keep one?" Ransom asked as he stood behind you, his arms snaking around your middle to rest his hands on your stomach.

"You can have more than one." You turned your chin, so you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” His lips curled up at the side.

"Yeah, you can have half if you'd like, they gave us six," you chuckled.

Ransom snorted as he kissed your neck, “I think I’ll stick one to the fridge.”

"Oh my, that's a big step," you sniggered. "Big Mob Boss Ransom Drysdale puts a picture on the stainless steel."

“Hey, that’s my future son and heir.”

"Or daughter."

“Whatever.”

"I'm only kidding," you leaned back into him a little.

“Me too, sorta. I don’t mind what they turn out to be. As long as they’re healthy.”

"Me either. But it'd be interesting to see you with a daughter. It'd be entirely comical to see you with a son."

“Why comical?”

"Because I can see it." You turned in his arms and wrapped your own around his neck after they slid up his chest. "A little boy with your eyes that reins terror over this house and your kingdom. God help you when they're sixteen."

Ransoms brows flicked up before he gave a lowly chuckle, “well, maybe having a girl wouldn’t be so bad. There’s one obvious upside to that too.”

"Which is?" You cocked your head to the side a little as you looked up.

“They’re more likely to be like you, less like me. Not quite as fucked up.”

Your face softened, "Ransom." Your eyes welled up, "don't you ever say that again."

He licked his lips and hung his head, “I’m sorry…”

Your hands moved from around his neck to his jawline, your fingers spreading over his cheeks. "You're not a perfect man, but you're not fucked up either. You fell from grace, but that doesn't mean you can't change, or you haven't already made changes. I see you for what you're worth, Ransom. Our children will too."

At that he swallowed, his eyes misted over before he frowned a little, a soft smirk spreading across his face. “Children?”

You gave a soft smirk and a little pop to your shoulder, "I won't rule it out."

Ransom opened his mouth, but closed it again, and instead his hands cupped your face. “I don’t deserve you.”

You could see the turmoil in his eyes, he felt guilty. Guilty over what he’d put you through, ashamed of what he’d done to you, how he’d hurt you the way he did.

"We're gonna get through this," you encouraged. "It doesn't feel like it, but we will. I still love you."

“I love you too, so fucking much princess.” He sniffed.

You swallowed and sniffed, "I know."

He leaned down to you, his nose bumping yours gently before he kissed you.

There was something different to this kiss than the others you’d shared since you agreed to work things through. It was laden with emotion. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tenderness behind his lips made your stomach somersault. Your fingers pressed into the nape of his neck as a small whimper slipped through your throat.

“Fahk…” Ransom wrenched his lips away and pressed his head to yours.

You were a little breathless and lightheaded. "Ransom...."

“I know…too soon.”

"Just kiss me again."

With a surprised blink that merged into a soft smile, Ransom did exactly as you asked.

Again, the kiss was heady and needy. You needed him, no, you for the first time in a long time, you wanted him.

“Take me to bed.” You whispered, your eyes closed as he pulled away, lips mere centimetres from each other.

"Yeah?" It was barely a whisper, in fact you weren't sure he spoke at all, but you felt the word on your lips.

"Yes."

His lips were back on yours, those hands that cupped your face slid down your arms to your hips before they curled around your thighs.

In an easy movement he lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapping around his waist. He grimaced slightly, but made no moves to set you down.

"Be careful," you spoke gently. "You're still healing.”

“I’m fine, princess.”

"Okay," you kissed him again.

Somehow you ended up in the bedroom you once shared, him having carried you up the stairs.

Ransom set you down gently on the bed, bending at his waist to continue kissing you. When he pulled away for just a moment, you saw a hunger in his eyes you hadn't seen in a long time. A hunger that made you tingle and a spark that set your inside on fire. But there was a softness behind the hunger that made you want him more. You easily took the lead and grabbed the side of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

Ransom wanted to touch you, put his hands on you. Felt desperate to have your skin at his fingertips. You waited on bated breath for him to do something.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he swallowed.

A step forward closed the space between you, and he settled between your legs. His hand cupped your face and settled into a cradle against your jaw. He rubbed his thumb across your cheek bone then slowly dragged along the column of your neck until he reached your sternum. With a flat palm, he gently pushed until your back hit the mattress.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that flew from your lips as your head hit the soft surface of the comforter.

You watched as Ransom pulled his own sweater off, tossing it somewhere over his head.

Your eyes glazed over with desire as you watched him kneel against the mattress and began to cover your body with his. But you didn’t miss the scar that ran along his side, where his brother had done his best to take his life.

It was still red and raised. A mark that wouldn't fade for a long while. Your fingers reached out and lightly grazed it.

Ransom swallowed as he watched your eyes follow your fingers before your gaze flicked to his.

“It’s the only thing left of him.” He shook his head, as he reached for your hand. “And soon, it’ll fade to nothing. Like he has.” His lips kissed the pads of your fingers.

You nodded, your lip tucked between your teeth. It was the only truth you needed. The baby in your belly was his and only his. Nothing else mattered.

He let go of your hand and leaned over, his lips brushing yours before they moved to the hinge of your jaw.

Your mouth parted in a sigh as you bent upward to kiss him. You traced the seam of his lips with your tongue and Ransom eagerly responded but kept allowing you to lead the pace.

There was a fear in the back of his mind that you'd change your mind, tell him to stop. That all this was a mistake. But the minute your hand slid up over his shoulder, nails caressing the short hair at the nape of his neck, that fear left him.

He kissed your lips, your jaw, your neck. He nipped gently at your collarbone, fluttered kisses between your bra covered breasts and you hissed as he palmed your left one with his right hand.

"Are you okay?" Ransome wondered against your skin.

"Just sensitive," you smirked.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You won't."

“Tell me if I do.”

“Ransom...."

Yeah?”

"I want you. I want...I want this. Stop stalling."

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

You cupped his face, "no more sorry."

Okay…” he nodded, as he took a deep breath. “I love you.”

"I...we love you."

With a soft expression on his face, his lips were back on yours.

With tenderness you knew he was capable of, he stripped you, kissing every inch of skin he could find.

You sighed and gasped, hummed and whimpered. You were already wet between your legs and by the time you were naked, you were squeezing your thighs together for relief.

As his knee nudged your thighs apart, his hands reached up and his fingers slipped between yours.

You felt his tip kiss at your slit, and you titled your hips upward. Ransom slid in with a slow and shallow thrust.

"Oh my god...”

“Shit, princess. Fahk…”

"You feel so good, baby...."

“You too…” he groaned as he pulled back, and then pushed deeper into you with a roll of his hips.

Your back arched off the mattress as your body curled around him completely. You crossed your ankles at the small of his back and squeezed his fingers between yours.

His lips crashed back to yours in a desperate kiss.

Your tongue forced upon his and he growled against your kiss. You whimpered at the thrust he reciprocated with. It only made you speak against his lips.

"Faster," you begged.

With a low moan, he gripped your hands tighter as his hips began to thrust.

"Oh fuck, thassit, Ransom..."

“Oh, baby…” he choked, his lips latching onto your pulse point, “I missed this. I missed you.”

“Oh shit," you whined. "Me...too..."

“My Queen…” he whispered, his nose brushing the shell of your ear.

"My King," you rasped.

You felt him shudder, a soft whimper escaping his mouth and it made your insides burn. The power you held over him, the way you could reduce him to a quivering wreck. Such a ruthless man in his business, ruling his kingdom with an iron fist and yet you could undo him simply with words.

"S'close, Ran," you moaned.

“Me too, baby.”

"Just...right...."

He knew how to read your body like a cartographer knew how to read a map. He knew where to touch, where to kiss, where to brush gently and where to grab a little more firmly…

The beginning flutters of your orgasm coiled around his cock and your fingers began to squeeze his a little harder. "Ransom, I'm....I'm gonna..." You sighed with a high pitch to your breath as you came. Your body tenderly tensed around him as your heels pressed against him, your toes curled.

“Oh, thassit…” his eyes watched your face. He loved seeing you fall apart, the way your jaw laxed, how your eyelashes kissed your cheeks like the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

He wasn't far behind you. His body flexed above you, his fingers tight and palms pressing the back of your hands into the mattress.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the look on his face before he whimpered and let himself press into you a little more, his face buried into your neck.

"Oh, baby," you cooed.

He didn’t reply, simply nuzzled into you more. And it was only when you felt the wetness against your skin that you realise he was crying.

Your eyes stung, too. There were a lot of emotions that came through the course of the day, and it seemed to have settled between the two of you at the end of your physical reconnecting. You kissed his shoulder and whispered that things were okay. That you were okay, and the two of you were okay.

Eventually he pulled back, and you wriggled your fingers free from his. With a soft smile you reached up and brushed back the longer strands of hair that had flipped forward over his forehead.

"I wanna come home," you whispered wetly.

“You are…” Ransom’s voice cracked, “you don’t ever have to leave.”

******

You stayed that night. And you stayed the next night. And the night after that. On the fourth day your engagement ring was back on your finger, and by the seventh most of your stuff was back from Ari’s. The items you left, which Carter had put into storage instead of being destroyed as Ransom had instructed, were returned to their rightful place and it was as if you’d never been gone.

Christmas came and went, you spent it at home, just you, Ransom and Ari. The New Year passed, the snow melted, the spring flowers emerged. And, as the seasons changed, so did your body. Your bump blossomed like the trees, your eyes shone like the diamond on your hand, and to Ransom you were simply more beautiful with each day that passed.

Before you knew it, six months had passed. Things on Ransom's 'business' end were still a tight ship.

He hadn’t attempted to seize Brooklyn, instead he’d left the power vacuum to sort it sort itself out. His personal involvement with the ‘dodgy dealings’ had become less and less, his outside focus mainly on the Publishing Company. His attempt was to at least appear more straight on the outside, the unborn baby in your belly his number one priority.

He didn’t want your son, or daughter, being born into any kind of turf war, despite him joking about them being heir to his empire. He wanted safety, security for them, and if that meant appearing to go straight, so be it. He kept peace with the other factions and mobs in the area.

But he still ruled his own with an iron fist.

One particular day in April, you’d met your friend for a spa day, a bit of pampering whilst he held a meeting in his office.

“So, whaddya want me to do boss?” Langley asked, “send a message? I mean, do we want the Maximoffs muscling in on this?”

Ransom pondered for a moment, then looked across the table to Stark. “What do you think?”

Tony wrinkled his nose, “it depends, do you wanna rock the boat?”

Ransom tapped his fingers on the desk, “leave it be, it ain’t important. Let them take their shipment. It won’t have a big effect.”

“You’re the boss.” Langley shrugged.

An hour or so later, the rest of his men had left, leaving him and Langley alone.

“I gotta hand it to you, Dysdale, you really have calmed down a lot. Impending Fatherhood suits you.”

Ransom merely flicked his brows.

“I know what happened with Rogers was shitty, but… well, looks like it all turned out for the best, huh?” Langley stood from his chair, “whoever it was that sent that photo to you did you a favour in the long run.”

Random cocked his head to one side, studying the man in front of him through narrowed eyes. “Hmmm.”

“Anyway, I have stuff to do so I will see you tomorrow, Boss.”

“Sure.” Ransom nodded, reaching into his desk drawer.

With a final nod, Bryce turned to go, but stopped dead when he heard the loud click of a gun mechanism being cocked.

“You know, I knew Walt had to have someone pushing his buttons. The Iago to his Othello, so to speak, but I never expected it to be you.” Ransom’s voice was cool and collected as Langley turned to him, his eyes narrowing.

“Boss, I’m not-“

“I told no one I’d been sent those photos,” Ransom chewed the inside of his cheek as he rose gracefully from his seat.

“What?” Langley’s voice was a whisper as he swallowed, realising his mistake. His eyes were fearful as he watched Ransom round the desk and advance on him, like a tiger stalking its prey.

“So, the only possible explanation for you knowing is if you were the one who did. And, if you knew Rumlow was going to be there, with Walt, then you had to have known about it from the start.”

Bryce floundered like a fish outta water, looking for a viable story on a dime. His eyes flicked from Ransom, then to the gun which was trained at his head.

“Why?” Ransom exhaled, “come on, humour me. And don’t try and tell me it was all Walt, because we both know if brains were dynamite he wouldn’t have enough to blow off his eyebrow. He might have wanted the head seat at the table but there’s no way he’d have come up with something so elaborate. So, here’s your moment. The big confession before I blow your brains out.”

Langley blinked, before his jaw set, and an angry look crossed his face. Ransom recognised it as resignation, and he openly smirked. He knew his childhood friend too well, Bryce understood his time was up and he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to explain, gaud Ransom one last time.

“The plan was to get rid of you and Steve, frame it as a rivalry gone wrong with the Maximoffs. Then Walt would take the lot, the business, inheritance. I’d get twenty percent, plus Brooklyn.” He clicked his tongue, “only Rumlow fucked the hit up, hit Peggy instead. It could have screwed it all up-“

“Then Steve killed Rumlow…and you saw your next opportunity, right?” Ransom arched a brow, “I played right into your hands, I listened to you, and I didn’t give Steve an alibi for Rumlow’s murder.”

“You always listened to me,” Bryce scoffed, “Walt was right, you were too soft. You’d have done it for him, despite everything that had happened between you. But I convinced you and then we had a new plan. We’d wait, bide our time, feed Steve a little metaphorical ammo and then he’d come after you.”

“So, you’re the reason he thought I organised the hit?”

Langley nodded, “I expected him to kill you, take out a hit of his own…but as time went on, it never came. Then it all went to shit. We didn’t expect Steve to get out as quickly as he did, not before we had come up with another plan. I mean, I wasn’t bothered at first, I expected him to kill you, not to…well…anyway, he totally fucked the whole thing up. And I knew it would only be a matter of time before you both started digging and the truth came out.”

“So, you panicked.” Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw tick. “You sent the photos to get yourself off the hook.”

Langley licked his lips, “when I heard that Levinson was looking into it, yeah. I cut my losses and sent him the photo with the intent of leading him to Walt. Then that asshole Barnes stabbed him so…”

“You sent it to me.” Ransom finished.

Langley nodded.

“Ransom took a deep breath. “You seriously did all this for money? You caused all this for…”

“No, it wasn’t just for money!” Langley’s face grew red, and Ransom notices with some amusement the man was shaking, a combination of fear and anger no doubt. “I wanted my share, what I was owed, what is my birthright!”

“What are you talking about?” Ransom narrowed his eyes.

“Your shit head father?”

“What about him? He’s been dead for fuckin’ decades….”

“He was my shit head father too!”

For the first time since the confrontation began, Ransom wavered. His gun lowered slightly, “he…you’re my…”

“Half-brother? Yeah, that’s right, he was fucking my mother, and he left her pregnant and penniless! You two got the big house, the private education, the family business…I got fuck all!”

“I…I had no idea.” Ransom shook his head.

“Neither did I until a few years back. But would it have made a difference?” Bryce scoffed.

Ransom hesitated for a moment, before he licked his lips, “you know, had you told me before all this…honestly? Yeah…yeah it would. I’d have done something…I mean…I was always closer to you than I was to my own twin!”

Ransom swallowed. This betrayal was hard to take. He’d always loved Bryce as a brother and had often wished he were his twin, not Steve. They’d been inseparable from the day they met, and Ransom had done everything he could to help Bryce. It had started with sharing sweets and toys, and in the end becoming his right hand man, paying him a wage he knew would set him up for life.

But all that…all that was crashing down around him.

He ran his hand over his face, groaning a little. “What a fuckin’ mess…”

“Ransom…” Bryce spotted the chink in the mob boss’ armour and jumped on it, “look, we can…I know I fucked up, but we can get through this.”

Ransom lowered his gun even more, and Langley let out a breath of relief, as Ransom looked at him.

“See…the thing is, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Bryce frowned.

“She’s my world. I killed my own twin because of what he did to her. And then I…I hurt her even more because of my anger and stupidity and I was so goddamned easily manipulated and twisted by what he did. I’ll never forgive myself for being so cruel and fucking weak.”

“But she’s forgiven-“

“And now I find out… all that was down to you and Walt.” Ransom finished, cutting Bryce off and the man stuttered.

“What, no, I-“

“Steve did what he did because he thought I killed his wife. Which, I suppose is understandable. I’d have done the same, well maybe not the exact same but I’d want revenge.” Ransom pondered for a moment and Langley waited, his entire body tense as he watched Ransom slowly raise the gun again. “Y/N has suffered the way she has because of Walt and your actions. You arranged the hit, you then let him think it was me. And for that…”

Ransom pulled the trigger, blowing a hole right through Langley’s eyes, exactly the same way he had done with Steve. He grimaced as, once more, bits of blood, bone and brain matter splattered across his face. This time they belonged to his half-brother.

The door to the room flew open and Carter bustled in, gun raises. He stopped dead as he looked from the smoking pistol in Ransom’s hand, to Langley, then back again, “boss…what-“

“He was in on it,” Ransom jerked out of his trance and turned to Carter. “With Walt.”

There was a moments pause and Carter let out a soft sigh, and Ransom saw the man’s eyes full with tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry none of this will bring Peggy back,” Ransom licked his lips, shaking his head a little, “I only hope you find comfort from knowing the men truly responsible are dead.”

Carter nodded and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Ransom’s phone. He reached into his pocket and a smile spread across his face.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah, erm, I’m just on my way home.“ your voice was soothing, as it always was, and he took a deep breath.

“How was the spa?”

“Amazing…erm, do you mind if we just get pizza and a film tonight instead of going out? I…I just wanna curl up and relax now. Plus, our little bean seems to be doing the tango on my bladder…”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay, have you finished your meetings?”

“Yeah,” Ransom glanced down at Langley’s body, and the mess in his office, “I just need to tidy up a couple of things then I’m done.

“Okay, well I’ll see you soon. We love you.”

“Love you both, too.”

He slipped the phone in his pocket and looked at Carter. He drew his shoulders back and wiped the forearm of the hand that still clutched the gun across his face, smearing the blood and gore over the sleeve of his shirt.

“Get someone to clean this up.” He instructed, his tone still softer than normal and Carter nodded.

“Boss.”

With that, Ransom stepped over the body of his dead half-brother and swept from the room, without so much as a glance back.

He was done looking over his shoulder. The only thing he cared about was you, and his baby.

And no one was ever going to threaten what the pair of you had ever again.

[crazyunsexycool]

The love we gave away

Chapter 4

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count: 3.4K

Warnings: fluff, some alcohol drinking, not much else

A/N: i was going to make this one chapter but it was going to be too long so it’s going to be divided into two! This is a bit dialogue heavy so I’m sorry for that but also I’m not!

Series masterlist

“If you called me one more time about the dress I won’t show up at all.” You look straight at the phone with an exasperated expression.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I really would.” You say before going back to making some last minute adjustments on the gown before you.

“I thought we were friends.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“I don’t know, maybe everything we went through in high school.”

You smile. On the phone was one of the very few people that you kept in your life after having the twins.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one Fai.”

Faith Carter was the girl you had bunked with in high school. She had been reserved and timid. She kept her head down and her grades up. Still she had been bullied beyond belief because she was a bit overweight back then, something she grew out of. That didn’t matter to you because she was a life saver. Faith had become the first friend you truly ever made. She showed you kindness you hadn’t found before and when you got pregnant she helped however she could. When you went to Italy she showed up unexpectedly to celebrate your birthday. Faith was the type of friend everyone should have but most didn’t deserve and you cherished her.

“So you’ll be there two days before, right? I have some fun things planned.”

“I will, dress included. I would like some time the day before to do a final fitting.”

“Of course. I have brunch set up just for us on Friday. We can do the fitting then and it will still give you Saturday to make any adjustments before the wedding on Sunday.”

“That sounds perfect.” You say before tying the end of the thread and cutting it off. “Who else did you invite from high school?”

“Oh I invited everyone. I want all of them to see me now, in my one of a kind wedding gown and hot husband looking better than any of them ever will.” You both giggle at that.

“You better fucking strut down that aisle. They don’t even deserve to breathe the same air you do.”

“I know but being the kind and generous person I am, I’ll allow it.”

“Dork.” You giggle and shake your head as you move to grab your phone and set it on your desk. “I know you’ll love the dress. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Can’t you show me now?”

“Nope, we agreed after the last fitting that you didn’t want to see it until right before the wedding.”

“It is right before the wedding.” She huffs.

“Faith, please let me just surprise you. You know I would never do anything to make you look bad.”

“Fine.” She huffs in annoyance but you just smile.

There’s a knock on your door before you are able to change the subject. When the door opens Theodore pops his head in and gives you a small wave. Your face immediately lights up and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Faith.

“Hey, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right out.”

“Who was that?”

“I will tell you in person. Gotta go Fai, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Ok, bye.” She says as you hung up the phone and walked out toward the waiting room.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey.” Abigail and Theodore say in unison.

“Come on in. I need to finish a few things up here.”

You hold the door open for them. Theodore walks in first and settles on a small loveseat you have against a wall. Abigail gasps as she sees the wedding dress you’re working on.

“I didn’t know you made wedding dresses.”

“I don’t. But my best friend from high school is getting married so I offered to make her dress. What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous. I mean it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Abigail gushes.

“Well thank you.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This Sunday but I’m heading out a few days early. The bride has a few things planned.”

“Will you take pictures of her with it on? I’d love to see them.”

“Of course, but how about you guys? What are you doing?”

“We’re going back home for a few days. Before classes start.” Theodore says.

“That’s good. You’ll be able to see your friends and family. I bet you miss them.”

“Yeah, grandma makes the best pies. And there’s this fair that happens every year right before school starts, we never miss it. So we’ll get to go as a group.” Theodore explains excitedly. Ever since he expressed his fear of forgetting his father he had been way more open to getting to know both you and Ransom. “I’m also going to pick up my camera equipment.”

“Well make sure to take lots of pictures because I want to see what you guys were up to.”

Theodore nods as he watches you put away any possible supply you’ll need for the last fitting. Then you box up the dress with their help and let Wanda know everything is ready for the trip.

“Alright, ready to go?”

“Yes, I can’t wait to finally go to the Met.”

“You should see it during one of the galas. It’s amazing.”

“You’ve been to the Met gala?”

“Yeah. It was about two years ago though.” You tell them as you head to the elevator. “Now I just prefer to dress people that go.”

“You have to tell us everything.”

“Ok. I will. I have amazing embarrassing stories.”

“Her head is going to explode.” Theodore jokes as you both look over at an overly excited Abigail.

“You should have warned me.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He smiles and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Is your mom joining us for dinner?”

“Yup. She’s coming from work. Is that ok?”

“Of course.” You nod before getting into your car, your driver shutting the door behind you. “I can send the car for her since we won’t be too far from the restaurant.”

“Thanks. I think she’s had the hardest time adjusting to the move.”

“Anything I can do to help I will. For all three of you.” You smile at your son and pat his knee.

“Thanks.” Abigail takes your hand and squeezes. “Really, we appreciate it.”

You give a small nod and swallow the lump in your throat.

“Now, these embarrassing stories. What was the worst thing that happened?”

You take a deep breath and start talking about all of the things that happened at the gala.

The last thing you expected when your plane touched down was that Faith would be waiting for you. Yet there she was leaning against the SUV meant to take you to the hotel that would be hosting the wedding.

“I hope you’re here because of me and not the dress.” You call out as you walk out of your private jet.

“Sure let’s go with that.”

You chuckle but shake your head as you get closer. Faith throws her arms around you and pulls you in for a hug.

“You’re getting married this weekend.” You say once you pull away.

She shakes you uncontrollably while screeching in delight.

“I’m getting married this weekend! Can you believe it?”

“Yes, yes I can. Now can we go. I’m so fucking tired from this long ass trip. Did you really have to have a wedding on the other side of the world? There are plenty of islands closer to home.”

“Of course I did. I’m nothing if not extra.” Faith replies as you both get into the SUV. “The hotel will take care of bringing the luggage and dress.”

“Dresses.”

“Dresses?”

“Yes. Mine of course but I made you something extra.”

“You didn’t.” Faith mouth falls open as she stares at you.

“I did. You said it yourself, you’re extra.”

“This is why you’re my best friend. I’m just sad you didn’t want to be a bridesmaid.”

“Fai I could have made your dream wedding dress or been a bridesmaid but not both.”

“Fine, you’re right. Still I appreciate everything you’ve done.” She throws her arm over you and pulls in for a side hug.

“It’s mutual. Now get me to this hotel.”

You both talk about what’s going on this weekend. Faith is buzzing in her seat as she explains that she actually just has the wedding party and a friend or two for the pre-wedding events. Just so that she and her fiancé could relax. By the time you get to the gorgeous hotel you already feel more prepared for the weekend and are actually looking forward to it.

There are bellhops and valet parking employees running around outside. Your door is opened for you. You step out and stretch before Faith walks around the car and loops her arm with yours. She leads you into the lobby and straight to the receptionist's desk. You look around while she gives the employee behind the desk all the information. Anyone that was important to the couple were on the same two floors but the hotel was practically booked with the rest of the guests that would be attending the wedding on Sunday.

“Here is your key to the suite. Your things will be brought up shortly. Here is the key to the room you requested for the gowns. Only the hotel managers and yourself have access to the room in order to prevent anything from happening.”

“Thank you so much.” Faith says as she grabs everything and turns to you. “Here you go. You should freshen up because we rented a yacht and we will be spending the day and most of the evening there. Make sure you wear a bathing suit.”

“Fine. I’m going.”

“I’ll wait for you at the docks. We leave in 15.” She pushes you toward the elevators and you give her a thumbs up.

Just like Faith said she was at the docks waiting by the yacht. She was already sunkissed from being at the hotel a few days before you. Still it didn’t stop her from soaking up the sun some more. She wore a swimsuit cover up but it was sheer enough to see the white two piece bathing suit she was wearing. It was paired with oversized sunglasses and sandals.

You on the other hand decided on linen shorts and an oversized white button up. It was lightweight and kept you cool. You kept a few buttons popped open to reveal your olive green one piece suit. To complete the look you wore a braided wide-brim sun hat, sunglasses and sandals. Everything for the next few days had been carefully selected by you and Wanda so that you could look your best. It was meant as a big ‘fuck you’ to the people that made you miserable at school.

“I may have a surprise waiting for you on the main deck.” Faith says as you walk through hallways and up stairs.

“What kind of a surprise?”

“A good kind.”

“Fai, you’re not trying to set me up with anyone right? I really don’t have the energy for that right now.” You say just as you join the rest of the guests.

“Well it was about time you joined us.”

You turn to see Faith’s parents sipping on some cocktails.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carter It’s so great to see you again.” You say as you hug both of them. Like Faith they had been so kind to you.

“It’s great to see you too. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you Mrs. Carter.”

“Please, you’re family, call me Millie and call him Derek. We’ve been in each other’s lives long enough.”

You nod and smile before turning just in time to see Faith’s younger sister barringly towards you.

“Hope.” You laugh as you both hug.

“Finally, it’s been so long.”

“I know but I heard you’ll be moving back to New York soon so we’ll definitely be hanging out more.”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait. There is so much I want us to do.”

You laugh as you agree to whatever she is saying because she is talking way too fast for you to understand. She was like the little sister you always wanted.

“Thank God you’re here. These two were driving me crazy. I thought Faith was marrying you instead of me.”

“Don’t get too comfortable that option is still on the table.”

“Scott.” You smile up at Faith’s fiancé. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to have you here. How was the trip?”

“It was long but good.”

“Good.” He nods.

“Come on, I want you to meet some of Scott’s friends. There are some real hotties here.” Faith grabs your hand and pulls you to where the rest of the bridal party is gathered.

Immediately your eyes fall on the last person you thought you’d see at Faith’s wedding.

“Thimble.”

“Ran, what are you doing here?” You look up at him wide eyed.

Ransom looked good in his navy blue swim shorts and white button up. He left most of the buttons undone and you could see the smooth plains of his chest. His hair fell over his forehead and covered his sunglasses.

“I’m friends with Scott, we met in college. You’re obviously here for Fai. I was pleasantly surprised when Scott told me about his girlfriend.”

“Wait I’m sorry am I missing something?” Faith says with a pout as she looks between you and Ransom.

“Am I missing something?” Scott says from behind Faith.

“Ransom and I dated in high school.” It felt weird reducing your relationship to him like that. As if you didn’t have two kids running around that shared both of your DNA. It was just easier to not talk about it than to get into such a long explanation.

“This is very disappointing and anticlimactic. I wanted you to see each other across the deck and realized how much you missed each other.”

“I’m sorry Fai. Let’s try that again.” Ransom takes his sunglasses off and rolls his eyes but turns to you. “Y/N?” He puts both hands on his cheeks and makes an exaggerated surprised face. “Is that really you? I can’t believe it. The last time I saw you was-“

“Like two weeks ago in New York. You’re right it’s been so long.” You play along and begin to fake ugly cry. “I can’t believe Fai’s love has brought us together again.”

“You guys are stupid, I hate you both.” Faith pouts as you and Ransom laugh and high five.

“Seriously though, you guys really dated in high school?”

“We did, for two years.”

“I cannot imagine you two together.” He says as he looks between both of you. “Ransom is such an ass.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“And I’m slightly offended. Want something to drink, Thimble?”

“Anything that will get me away from Faith’s glare.”

Ransom chuckles as he places a hand on your lower back and guides you to the bar. You take a seat at one of the stools just as the yacht begins to move.

“Sex on the beach?” Ransom asks you with a sly smirk.

“Perv. You know I don’t like to drink.”

“Ok, how about a watered down version. I promise to keep an eye on you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea, I know you like to drink.”

“Actually, I’ve cut back on my drinking. Please have a drink and have a good time. I promise I’ll have your back.”

“Since when did you cut back?”

“Honestly, since Annie told us what happened to her husband.” Ransom looks away from you for a moment. “You know Theodore called me that night.”

“Really? What did you talk about?”

“I will tell you after I order you a drink. Let me get a woo woo for the lady. Don’t make it too woo-y.” Ransom tells the bartender who immediately gets to work.

“A woo woo?”

“Yup, nice and sweet with a little bit of tartness. Just like you.”

“You need to work on your flirting.”

“Oh baby, I’m just warming you up.”

The bartender sets a very pretty pink cocktail in front of you. You give the bartender a quick ‘thanks’ and take a sip.

“Ok, this is really good.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go start this party.” Ransom takes your hand and leads you towards the rest of the group.

There’s good music, good food and best of all good company. Initially you sit with Faith and the bridesmaids but somehow you always end up side by side with Ransom. You could be on opposite sides of the yacht but somehow you’d always end up together. Even when the yacht stopped in a perfect spot and everyone shed their extra layers of clothing and jumped into the ocean.

It was the most fun you’d had in a while. For the first time in a long time you could stop thinking about your responsibilities and just enjoy yourself. It helped that there was eye candy all around, especially Ransom. He had definitely bulked up.

“You’re drooling.” Fai leans in and says.

You were perched up on the swim platform watching as the others goofed around in the water. No matter how much you tried, your eyes kept coming back to Ransom.

“Am not.”

“Please, you’d give him another set of twins if he asked you to.”

“Can you stop?” You said with a laugh. “No one is getting anyone pregnant.”

“Just laid. I plan to get you laid before this weekend is over.”

You roll your eyes before standing back up and jumping back in the water.

****

As the sun began to set dinner had been served. Everyone sat around a long table. Ransom was of course by your side. His arm resting on the back of your chair as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was, it felt like it was. But your mind tends to romanticize things that are out of the norm in your life. Rarely did you take a vacation but now here you are in a romantic setting with the man you once loved, and still did, sitting beside you. And in the blink of an eye the two of you fall into an old routine. You can’t help but be around each other, the pull is too great. It’s safe and comfortable.

After dinner everyone breaks off into little groups. You move away from the noise and sit in a lounge area toward the back. It gives you a great view of the last rays of the sun. The orange and pinks giving way to the inky black of night. It doesn’t take long for you to have company. You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Ransom. He places an arm on the back of your seat and nudges you so that you rest your weight against him. You stay cuddled up and appreciating his warmth until the yacht is docked. Neither of you said a word, you just appreciated each other’s company.

Wordlessly you follow each other out of the docks and back to the hotel. Faith throws you two thumbs up as she watches you get into the elevator with Ransom.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him.

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because I won’t have to navigate this whole thing alone.”

“Woah thimble,” Ransom holds up a hand. “What makes you think I want you to cramp my style?”

“Cramp your style? The fact that you said that lets me know you have none.”

He chuckles. “Well if this party is as wild as that post prom party was back in sophomore year we’re going to have a great time.”

You scoff, remembering that party perfectly. That night was the second time you had slept together.

“You mean the night you got me pregnant?”

“That was the night wasn’t it?”

“Yup.” You say as you walk out of the elevator and towards your suite.

“Told you, wild party.”

You open the door and turn to look up at Ransom. He looks so good with his sun kissed skin, silky hair that you wanted to push away from his face and his smile. It wasn’t that cocky smile he presented to the world, no it was his real smile and it made him look younger. It was reserved for you.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” He leans down and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “See you tomorrow thimble.”

He leaves you at a loss for words and your heart practically beating out of your chest. But then again he could always make your heart do that. Slowly you close the door to your suite and rest against it. There’s one thing you know for sure.

Things are going to get a lot more interesting this weekend.

Ch 5

Permanent taglist

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

Series taglist

@superaveng

@stcrrjoon

[creativenicocorner]

Okay I know the idea of Serizawa getting another job, and Reigen having to stop running Spirits and Such can be a bummer

BUT CONSIDER

Serizawa and Reigen, practically married, absolutely trust each other etc etc spring wedding etc very established! 

Serizawa tries out another job (good for him, branch out sweetie, the world is your mollusk). 

Reigen’s Spirits and Such turns more and more into that Private Detective job idea Reigen also had before starting Spirits and Such...

Cue Reigen becoming Seasoning City’s bootleg wet scrumblo version of Benoit Blanc

[kino-rogers]

anyway i'm writing a Knives Out au in which an old flame of Benny's (my oc) returns as The Big Bad and i'm really proud of it so far, if anyone is interested in the wip? 👉👈

[ohitslen]

Average university experience

[justplaggin]

okay but the fact that he LITERALLY said that

[abbatoirablaze]

Locked Up, Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings:  taboo relationships, sexual situations, mentions of crimes/murder, noncon, teasing, manipulation, forced stimulation.

“Who the hell are you, kitten?” the inmate smirked, “Reyes get himself a sexy little piece of ass to watch while he’s judgin’ us?”

You frowned.

Ransom Drysdale

He was put away for the murder of his eccentric billionaire grandfather who was both a well-known published writer, and the head of a major publishing company.  It was an irony, considering both the company and the murdered man were all about murder mysteries.

“Doctor Reyes has retired, Mr. Drysdale,” you replied, not acknowledging his more vulgar statements, “I’m your new doctor.  This is to be our introductory meeting.”

He smirked a little bit wider, his teeth making him look like a wolf hunting his prey, “tell me, doc…am I popping your cherry?  Am I that lucky man that just gets to slide in and be the first one before those other animals leave you a gaping mess?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, not giving him the satisfaction of being your first patient, “I’ve already met with a few other men on your cell block.  You’re oddly present in everyone’s lives…I’m sure you’ve seen them coming and going today.”

“Jensen and Levinson don’t count,” he scoffed, admitting to you that he had indeed noticed the two men coming and going, “they’ve committed petty crimes at best…and Levinson and Jensen are easy to diagnose.  Levinson has authority and impulse issues.  Jensen is just pathetic.  Can’t talk to anything with a vagina because he falls in love with it.  That one has more abandonment issues than I have money.”

“You don’t have any money, Mr. Drysdale,” you reminded him sweetly, “your assets have been frozen since your arraignment…mommy dearest pays for everything, remember?  And as far as my other patients are concerned, none of them matter right now.  Right now, you are my main priority.”

 “Oh, am I?” he teased; his voice sounding more grating the longer you were with him, “do me a favor then.  Be a good girl and get on your knees…it’s been a while since a pretty little mouth like yours was wrapped around my cock…or better yet, bend over.   Show me just how much of a priority I am by letting that tight, wound-up little cunt choke my cock.  You’re no socialite, but I bet if you let me, I’d have you moaning like those other little sluts in no time.”

Behind you, the officers were chuckling.  You shot them a glare but said nothing.

“Come on now, kitten…cat got your tongue?” Ransom teased as he kicked his feet up and onto your desk, “I’m just getting started…so you really need to learn to keep up.  That or learn your place.”

He spread his legs a little bit, as though he was inviting you to get on your knees in front of him and start sucking him off right then and there.

“And what is my place, Mr. Drysdale.”

“Women,” Ransom chuckled, looking back to his guards.  He shook his head before turning back to you, “I’ve already told you, kitten.  On your knees or bent over your desk…I’m not picky…not in here.  So, what do you say you just give in and accept your real role…be a good girl for me.”

“I think that our session is over, Mr. Drysdale,” you answered after a moment.  You caught the small pout that worked its way onto his lips as you grabbed his folder and slipped to the window, now outwardly putting distance between yourselves while also showing that you were no longer paying attention to what he said.  He sucked in a bit of air while you stretched out on your cushion by the window and began writing.  You were fully aware of how your skirt had slid up just enough for him to see the edge of your garter belt and you smirked to yourself, knowing it would torture him, “officers, I’m done with this inmate…you can bring in the next one after lunch.”

“Wait!” Ransom said quickly, slamming his feet back to the ground.  He looked at you wildly, “we’re not done here.  A session is half an hour, an hour if Reyes really got me going…we’ve only been here for ten minutes. I-If that.”

“Well Mr. Drysdale, you see…I’ve already lost interest in whatever it is that you have to say,” you shrugged, still not looking at him.  You felt his eyes trailing up and down your body, but you didn’t dare look at him, “I don’t need any more time to figure you o-“

“Look at me god damn it,” he growled, snapping his arms loud enough to make the chains cause a commotion.  Your eyes flicked to his, and you could see the rage simmering beneath the surface, “you haven’t figured me out, you little bitch.  You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” you replied with a simple shrug.  You placed your legs back on the ground, your heels clicking his attention back to your legs.  Your hands worked to smooth your skirt out as you stood, hiding your undergarments from him, “you’re narcissistic.  Textbook matter of fact.  You’re probably the least interesting man I’ve interviewed thus far.  But don’t worry Mr. Drysdale…we can discuss that at your appointment…next week.”

“You little bitch!” he spat as the guards started in on him, “you vicious little bitch.”

“Have a good week, Mr. Drysdale…” you offered as you left the folder at the window and started back towards your desk.

“Thank you…I can take it from here, officer.”

The guard gave you a wary look before giving the other guard who held onto the prisoner’s left arm a sideways glance. 

“You sure, doc?” the second guard asked gently.  He eyed up the behemoth of a man, “Inmate Everett is-“

“Here for evaluation after six consecutive trips to solitary for aggression related issues and write-ups,” you began, cutting the guard off.  You waved your hand dismissively in the air, “yes…I’ve read up on Mr. Everett.  I’m fully aware of what he is capable of.  Thank you.”

“Then you know we can’t just leave you alone in your office with him,” the second guard reminded you, “he’s a dangerous man, ma’am…and no offense, but you’re a little bitty thing.  Even Reyes had us with him when Everett was here.”

“Mr. Everett is no threat to me…”

The silent inmate finally looked down at you.

He covered his own shock over your brazen attitude well enough, but he had to admit, you were an itty-bitty thing.  You looked all business even with the skirt and blazer hugging your every curve.  He knew that you couldn’t have been anywhere close to him, but there was something about you that made him feel like you two were on even playing field, despite his size.

Then again, anyone next to the 6’8” giant seemed to be tiny. 

“Inmate Everett is a dangerous man, doc... I don’t think you’re hearing my partner here!” the first man jumped back in, stressing the fact that Curtis wasn’t some man off the street seeking some counseling over something silly, “we’re over here, trying to make sure that you don’t end up the next addition to his body count.”

“If you bothered learning about your inmates, you’d know that Mr. Everett’s crimes are all against men, not women,” you reminded the two male guards on either side of your new patient, “before that, Mr. Everett worked for the city as an engineer…he was-”

“Look, you wanna be left alone with the psycho, that’s on you…” the man finally growled, shoving his arm off the inmate.  Curtis sneered over his shoulder and the guard took a step back, “but I don’t wanna be hearing no pissin’ and moaning when that psycho attacks you and tears you to shreds…me and Connors here won’t be rushin’ in to save you!”

You looked to the younger guard, who still had his hand on your patient’s arm, “Connors?”

“Ma’am, I really don’t think this is a good idea!”

“Don’t worry, it’s dually noted,” you sighed impatiently, “if it makes you feel better you can link up his chains.”

The guard gave a nervous nod before taking a step forward. 

Curtis turned his attention to him, and Connors stopped, “Maybe…maybe we just watch you get him in, and I give you the keys…yeah?”

You held out your hand, and Connors pulled the lone key from his pocket.  You took it, and stepped away from the door, opening it wider, “after you, Mr. Everett…”

He looked at you again, taking you in. 

You were new. 

He knew that. 

He’d been in the prison for a year and a half already and spent more time in the stuffy office than he cared to admit.  But before he went into solitary, he remembered it belonging to an older man.

You were anything but the older man. 

A little minx wrapped in business attire. 

But even then, you were subtly teasing him. 

He could see the red lace peaking out from your blouse, the top buttons undone from the summer’s unbearable heatwave.  His eyes snapped back to yours when you cleared your throat. 

You sensed his hesitation, and you opened the door a little more, “we only have a limited amount of time, Mr. Everett…please come in.”

Curtis obliged your request and stepped through the entrance. 

Long gone was the layer of dust along the windowsill.  You had dressed it up, ignoring the bars on the outside of the ledge, and had added a padded cushion.  Beside it, he could already see notes from another case.  He scoffed to himself when he noticed Drysdale’s name scribbled at the top. 

You followed him over to the chair, which was no longer a metal one.  Instead, it had been replaced with a soft, velvety looking one.  A shiver ran down his spine when he sat, his hands immediately, instinctively going out. 

You were already waiting on him and had caught his large hands in your own small ones. 

“Please stay still so that I can unlock your belt and secure you to the bolt in the floor, Mr. Everett.”

He made no acknowledgement that he’d even heard you. 

You were quick to reach around his arms, tucking yourself beneath him while you reached for the lock.  His eyes closed, if only for a moment, and your scent wrapped around him, disarming him from whatever he thought the session was going to be. 

You smelled like his favorite season, autumn.  He got another waft of sweet apples and crisp leaves before you were bending away from him, taking the lead of his chain to connect it to the floor. 

He couldn’t help but notice how your skirt hugged the curves of your ass and your childbearing hips.  He shifted slightly and bit back the groan that wanted to break free from his throat as he caught yet another glimpse of your cleavage. 

His cock twitched as he imagined a little thing like you wrapped around him. 

You were positively sinful. 

Here he was, living in his own personal hell, and you were just dangling in front of him like a tasty little treat.  It was like he’d been stranded in the desert, and you were a mirage, teasing him with something he never realized he’d missed outside of prison.

“He’s secure…you may leave.”

The first guard was off, already cursing you, but Connors was a little more reluctant. 

That was until you closed the door. 

Curtis caught himself listening for the click of your heels.  His eyes closed once more, and your perfume came wafting back to him.  Curtis looked over his shoulder, towards the window.  You had picked up the notes, and folded the file shut, before dropping it on your desk.  His eyes followed you as you walked around it and sat down.  In between the two of you was his folder, wide open.  He could make out his picture on the document stapled to the inside, “studying up on the psychotic murderers of B block?”

“Excuse me?”

“Drysdale,” he said dryly, nodding to the file, “he’s on my block too.  Murdered his grandfather…but that was for a few bucks…we’re not the same…”

“I never said that you were.”

“Who’s next on your list to meet with?” Curtis asked abruptly, changing the subject, “Rogers?  Barnes?”

“Client patient confidentiality, Mr. Everett!”

He smirked, “be careful with em…Rogers is as disgusting as they come…seems like a sweet guy…guess he and Barnes were real ladies’ men on the outside…you know…before they became serial killers…before Rogers cut off Barnes’ arm when he realized the good ole sergeant was done and ready to confess his crimes.”

Your cool facade broke at his blatant discussion of the other inmates, “Wh-what?”

He smirked, “Captain Steve Rogers…the guy’s a real prick about his title.  Both of em are.  Last time I was stuck in solitary with him he was braggin’ about how Barnes is his bitch…said that he kept him in line by chopping off his left arm before their trials…Barnes was ready to play ball with the ADA…that Barber guy.  You want a good case; you’ll find it in one of them…Drysdale’s not interesting.  I’m not interesting.”

“I never said that you were or weren’t interesting, Mr. Everett,” you said after a moment.  You flipped your notebook to a new page and began writing, “not that I’m saying that you aren’t…but it’s interesting to me that you are jumping around like this.  Jealousy over me having other patients?  We just met, Mr. Everett.”

“I’m not jealous…you want to know someone who’s jealous-“ 

“Deflection,” you smirked, stopping your writing as you looked into his seafoam eyes, “Mr. Everett did Doctor Reyes leave without telling you he was retiring?”

“I never gave a damn about that guy,” he shrugged offhandedly, “never said more than a sentence to him.”

“And yet…you seem to have no communication problems with me…”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Well…you’re having some sort of communication issues,” you pointed out, “six times in solitary since you were here.  And your last stint was a month and a half for attacking a guard.”

He shrugged, “I didn’t like the way that he was looking at me…”

“And how was he looking at you, Mr. Everett?”

“Stop that bullshit stuff,” he groaned tiredly, “call me Curtis…not Mr. Everett.”  

“How was he looking at you, Curtis?”

“Like an animal,” he answered honestly, giving you a look, “sort of how you see me.”

“You like putting words in my mouth, don’t you, Curtis?”

“I’d like to put something in your mouth,” he admitted unashamed as he tried using his own methods to put a little distance between the two of you.  He realized just how much he’d been speaking, and he frowned.  There was something about you that made him all too willing to speak; something that broke his walls down instantaneously, “I-“

“Stop,” you said firmly, cutting him off.  Curtis looked at you, his brow furrowing, “when it’s the two of us, there will be no grandstanding…no using vulgar language.  This is just a place for open and honest communication.  I think that’s something you can respect, yes?”

“I was being honest,” Curtis smirked, leaning forward.  You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of what game he was playing at.  You’d already dealt with Ransom Drysdale this afternoon, and he’d made a very similar statement.  You were about to open your mouth and Curtis leaned his elbows on your desk, “how is a sexy little minx like you a doctor, huh?  You realize that you’re that good at getting into people’s head and living there rent-free that you just said, ‘I’m going to do this from now on?’  And the way that mouth’s parted right now…what would you say if I told you about when you were doing my chains, the only thing that ran through my mind was how good you smelled…how it would be to have you not just bent over, but on your knees for me…falling apart on my-”

“Mr. Everett…”

“Curtis…sweetheart…”

“Maybe we should have our session another time, Curtis…when you realize that you need to have some manners when you talk to me.”

“I thought you said you wanted open and honest communication…”

“About you, Mr. Everett,” you answered, leaning back into your seat, “not me…or rather, what you would like to do to me.”

“Oh, honey…you on your knees…that would all be about me.  Don’t be confused, thinking that any of it would be for your benefit,” he growled seductively.  He held back his smile when he noticed how your hands had been folded in your lap, but you moved them only to cross your legs.  A smirk built up on his face when he saw your thighs clenching together.  He licked his lips, “you’re a dirty little minx, doc…aren’t you?  You thinking about riding my cock?  About becoming a drooling little ragdoll while I fucked the brain out of your pretty little head…is that why you really took a job in a men’s prison?  Want to live in our heads rent free until we all go crazy and fuck you?”

“This conversation is over, Mr. Everett.”

“Curtis, honey,” he said in a gravelly voice.  You couldn’t hold back the whimper as it escaped the back of your throat, “you know, normally, I’d tell you that you need to be a good girl and follow my requests…answer my questions then get on your knees and suck the soul out of me…but I think I like it better knowing that you’re a little brat…I’d love to just fuck that out of you…”

“G-goodbye Mr. Everett.”

You were quick to rush past him, already reaching for the door, but his hand reached out and he grabbed you, pulling you back to him with such force that you tumbled onto his lap.  Your eyes went wide, and he could feel your heart slamming against your chest.  Your heart was beating so quickly.

“Little hummingbird are you afraid of me?” he teased, “or just afraid that you like the way I speak to you?”

He bounced his knee and your hands reached down to balance yourself on his large thigh.  He could feel the heat between your legs.  Your skirt had ridden up so that he could see the full garter.  With another smirk, he reached down, snapping the material against your inner thigh.  He felt your core clenching around nothing and a moan pass from your lips. 

You scrambled, hurriedly, off his lap, falling to the floor. 

“Little hummingbird…we weren’t done!” he teased. 

Curtis chuckled to himself, watching as you scattered out of the room, and as the door closed behind him. 

“Too easy…”

Chapter 2

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72

[krirebr]

More Than This 8

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

Word Count: ~9.5k

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

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, family drama - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Ohhhhhhhh boy. Getting this update in right under the six month wire. I'm so sorry this one took so long, you guys. I had to drag this chapter out of me. But uh, it's horrifically long, so that's something?

And, I know I keep saying that we're about to start a happier part of this story and then deliver a bucketful of angst, and yeah, whoops, I've done that again. I should just stop making promises, huh?

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has spent the last almost six months talking this one through with me. And to @bigtreefest who was so great with the encouragement and gut checks and did a quick beta of this chapter! But, of course, all mistakes are my own.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The rest of the day was quiet. Calmer, more settled than you were used to. After having gotten everything out into the open, it was so much easier to acknowledge Ransom’s presence, to coexist with him. You hadn’t fully realized how much you’d been holding your breath until you could suddenly breathe freely. It was a wild feeling.

Once you were all cried out, Ransom turned on the TV, turning it to the classic movie channel. That was how you learned he loved old movies. “Grandad and I used to watch them together. When I was a kid,” he said quietly. He didn't volunteer any other information and you didn't ask. But you watched the old noir with him.

One movie turned into two and soon the whole afternoon was gone. It had been… comfortable, in a way you’d never expected to be with him. Neither of you had said much, but the silence hadn’t been stifling in the way it’d been even just the day before. For the first time since you’d gotten here, you felt something a lot like hope.

He made two arrangements while sitting with you on the couch. The first was for movers to come to collect his gym equipment the next day so that your new room would be empty when your things arrived in a couple of days. 

You were made aware of the second when you received a text from him. You looked up in confusion. You were sitting right next to each other. He chuckled lightly. “That’s the number to your new car service. Call it, let them know where you’re going, and a car should be here within half an hour.”

You stared at the number. Holy shit, you’d be able to go places. You felt silly for how emotional you suddenly felt, but it was like your entire world was expanding in real time. It felt like fresh oxygen in your lungs. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

He just nodded in response. “After you’ve used that for a while, we can talk about whether a private driver might be more appropriate. If that’s what you need.”

You looked at your phone again. This was proof in your hands that you could tell Ransom what you needed and he would do what he could to help you get it. That he wasn’t the enemy you’d assumed he was. You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes and you took a deep breath to try to quell them without calling attention to your state.

Ransom, of course, noticed anyway. “Is that not ok?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. I’m sorry, I just–” You had no idea what to say to him, how to explain yourself. As good and necessary as the last several hours had been, he was still a stranger. And as much as he’d demonstrated a willingness to help you, that didn’t mean he wanted you getting your messy emotions all over him. “Sorry,” you said again, “I’m just emotional today. Hormones probably. I’m afraid you’re going to be dealing with this for the next nine months.” You grimaced in what you hoped was a playful manner as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

He remained serious, concerned. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his tone still so soft. But if you looked very carefully, you thought that you might be able to see a hint of panic in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was for the havoc that your pregnancy hormones might wreak or everything that would come after. You didn’t ask. You knew you wouldn’t be able to answer the question for yourself either. So you turned back to the movie.  

At some point, you both started to get hungry, so Ransom ordered takeout. As you ate, you asked a few questions about the sorts of movies he liked, grateful for a safe topic to fill the silence. You certainly wouldn’t call him verbose, but you learned that he had a soft spot for Billy Wilder movies. You wouldn’t really say the conversation flowed, either, but your questions didn’t seem unwelcome. It was nice. He was starting to feel like a real person.

When you were done, you cleaned up the leftovers together, packing them up and putting them away in the fridge. It was while you were doing that that the doorbell suddenly rang. You both looked up, confused. “If that’s fucking Linda, I swear…” Ransom grumbled.

“She never rings the doorbell when it’s just me here,” you griped. You continued putting things away, sticking your head in the fridge as Ransom went to get the door. Then everything happened so fast.

First, you heard Lola yipping excitedly. As you started to turn around to see what was going on with her, Ransom asked “What are you doing here?!” And then–

And then Ransom was on the ground, clutching his jaw, and Steve was looming over him, his hand still in a fist.

“What the shit?!” Ransom ground out.

Steve’s eyes flitted around wildly until they landed on you. He sighed in relief, clearly doing a quick check as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone so much gentler than his posture.

“Am I– What– What are you doing here? I don't–” You felt like you couldn’t process anything that was happening. How was he here?? Your gaze caught on your husband, still on the floor. “Oh my god, Ransom!” You dropped to your knees next to him. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I–” he started, then carefully flexed his jaw, “Fucking shit. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Your hand hovered uselessly between you as he slowly stood up. You turned back to Steve, who had stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind him, and now had Lola in his arms, softly greeting her as she snuggled into him adoringly.

“Steve, what are you–” you started but then you saw the suitcase at his feet. “Are you staying here?!”

Steve finally turned his attention away from Lola. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously, with a challenging glare to Ransom. 

You sighed helplessly. “There’s no guest room…”

“Yeah,” Ransom grumbled as he rifled through the freezer until he pulled out an icepack, “as thrilled as we are to see you, we do have hotels here. You might be more comfortable in one.” The icy coldness that filled the room wasn’t just from the open freezer. 

Steve took an aggressive step forward. “And leave you alone with my sister for even one more day? I don’t think so. I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m easy like that.”

“Steve–” you tried but you were quickly interrupted.

“Really? You’re here for your step-sister? That’s interesting because my understanding is that you haven’t had much time for her lately,” Ransom said snidely.

Steve started to puff up in a way that was much too familiar from the playground fights of your childhood. “Oh my god!” you yelled. “Stop! Both of you!” You briefly put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, then one more. You straightened yourself and tried to deal with one of the fifteen problems at hand. “Ok, I, uh, I guess I’ll see about making up the couch,” you said, then stomped your way upstairs to the linen closet.

Steve followed close behind you, still carrying around Lola. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “you haven’t actually said ‘hello’ to me yet.”

“No,” you growled, as you looked through the closet without turning around to look at him, “I guess I haven’t.”

He pulled your arm lightly. “Hey, come on,” he said. “I’ll help pull this stuff together if you tell me where to look. We both know Ransom’s just gonna let you do all the work.”

That earned you finally turning to face him. “Well, he did just get punched in the face, so I think he’s a little more concerned with that than making you feel comfortable right now.”

Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you? Well, let's see. You showed up unannounced and punched my husband in the face. Yeah! I'm a little mad at you!”

“He deserved it,” he growled. 

“How would you know?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You sighed. You did not have the energy for this. And where were all the blankets? You remembered the pile currently in the corner of the gym. Right. You turned around and walked down the hall to your makeshift bedroom, Steve still on your heels. As soon as you walked in, he stopped, putting Lola down. “The fuck is this?” he asked, harshly, his hands on his hips. You realized your mistake immediately. His eyes scanned the cushions and blankets set up, the exercise equipment still there, your few possessions strewn about. “Is this where you sleep?”

“No! Just last night.”

“Why did you need to sleep here last night?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

It felt like a trap. If you told him you’d panicked and needed some space, he would ask why. Steve never dropped anything. And you just could not tell him you were pregnant right now. It was the absolute worst time for that. But you didn’t know how else to answer his question. “I just needed a little space.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. God, you hated being the focus of that look. It was the look he gave you when you scratched his car when you were 16, or when you were 18 and he had to pick you up from a party at 2 AM and wouldn’t tell him what had happened. It was the look you got when you were little and used to steal his paintbrushes so he couldn’t paint and he’d have to hang out with you. You’d hated that look since you were six years old. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He just shook his head for a moment. “You sounded so sad and tired this morning. And I’m just so sick of not being able to see you, not being able to tell what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “Not being able to protect you.”

“Steve,” was all you could say at first. Then you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You launched yourself at him and wrapped him in a big hug. He was a fucking idiot. You couldn’t believe he’d punched Ransom. You were so mad about that. But he was your fucking brother and you’d missed him so much.

He hugged you back tightly. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Chipmunk,” he murmured into your hair. 

You stood there, savoring the closeness for as long as you both were able, and then you pulled away and stared down at the mound of blankets and cushions. The big couch downstairs had been pulled apart the night before to give you a place to sleep. That severely limited the options for Steve. You sighed. “I guess it would make the most sense to put you in here.”

“And where would you sleep?” he asked, his tone taking on an aggressive edge, aimed at the man downstairs, you knew.

“I’d go back to the bedroom,” you said, with a put-on casualness like you weren’t aware of the fight that was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” Steve said firmly.

“Oh my god, Steve! You can’t control where I sleep!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“The whole reason I’m here is to make sure you’re ok and that he can’t hurt you! I’m not gonna do something that puts you back in his space!”

“Steve, I don’t need that! He isn’t doing anything!”

“Then why did you text me? Why were you crying?!”

You did not have the energy for the conversation that would answer that question, so all you could do was glare at him, which he answered with a confrontational jut of his chin. The two of you just stood there locked in a staredown until Steve muttered, “What sort of grown man doesn’t have anywhere for guests, anyway?”

“The sort that likes an excuse to stop people from staying at his house,” Ransom said pointedly from the doorway, startling you both. “What exactly do you think I’d do, with you right across the hall? I’ve already gotten a taste of how you solve problems,” he said to Steve, gesturing with the ice pack still held to his face. Then, much softer, to you, he said, “I know you want your own space, but you’re more than welcome to share the bed until your stuff gets here. That’s all I wanted to say.” Then he turned around and walked into his bedroom, Lola scampering behind him, ready for bed.

You stared after him, unable to parse the feelings bubbling up inside you. He’d been so different lately. Or maybe you were just finally looking.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve asking “Your stuff?”

You turned your attention back to him. He was watching you too carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here. I’m turning this into my room.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask too many questions probably so you cut him off. “It’s been a really long couple of days, Steve. I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He set his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fight you. Force you to talk to him. But you held your ground, looked him in the eye with a hint of challenge, and eventually he deflated, just a bit. “Yeah, okay,” he relented before he pulled you into another crushing hug. You’d really missed his hugs.

“I am happy to see you,” you whispered.

“Me too, Chip,” he whispered right back. 

After making sure he had everything he needed, you left Steve alone with a quiet “goodnight,” and made your way back to Ransom’s bedroom. He and Lola were already snuggled in bed, snoring softly. You quickly went through your bedtime routine and then joined them, very careful not to wake either of them. After how eventful and emotionally wrought the last few days had been, it didn’t take you long at all to drift off into sleep.

You woke up in the morning pressed up against Ransom, face to face, your feet tangled together, Lola on your legs. You carefully pushed yourself away, watching him warily to see if he roused at all. Thankfully he didn't. You were sure he wouldn't be thrilled with how close you'd both gotten in the night. 

You quietly got up and let yourself out of the bedroom, a now wide-awake Lola at your heels. The door to the gym was open and the room was empty, Steve’s suitcase wide open on the floor next to the nest of cushions and blankets. You didn’t hear anyone moving around downstairs, so he was out on a run, most likely.

You headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then started looking through the fridge for the leftovers from the previous morning. As you were doing that, a creak on the stairs let you know Ransom was joining you. 

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy from disuse. He went to the coffee maker and just stood in front of it, waiting for the pot to finish.

“Morning,” you said from inside the fridge. You found the leftovers and closed the appliance, finally turning to him with a gasp. You put the food down on the counter and went to Ransom. “Oh my god, your face!” A large bruise in a deep shade of purple took up most of the left side of his face, centered on his jaw and cheekbone. You rushed to his side and without thinking, extended a hand to touch him before you realized what you were doing and pulled back at the last minute, embarrassed. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the coffee slowly dripping into the carafe. 

You stared at him for another moment, before you just couldn’t keep your feelings inside anymore. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

He finally looked at you at that. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

So much, you thought to yourself, maybe, probably. But for right now, in this instance, you just shrugged. “He’s my brother,” you said, a little helplessly. 

“Did you tell him to punch me?” he asked as he decided he’d waited long enough and filled his mug.

“What? No!”

“Then there’s nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back against the counter as he sipped his coffee. “Where is your brother?”

“On a run, probably,” you said, now helping yourself to a mug and fixing it up how you liked.

Ransom scoffed. “Of course, he is.” He looked at you carefully for a long moment and you struggled not to squirm under his gaze. “You happy he’s here?”

“Of course!” you said, too quickly. He kept looking at you. “I mean, I didn’t invite him here, so… It was just a surprise. I don’t know. He’s very protective, you know?” Ransom raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Right, yeah. He just– Sometimes, he just– he decides what’s right. And then there’s no changing his mind.”

He made a little hum, then nodded and said, “Yeah, I know. I have met him before. But why are you worried about that?”

“Uh, he just, he isn’t always a good listener. And he’s gonna have a lot of questions for me today. I know he will. And I don’t know how I’ll answer any of them without telling him about the– that I’m pregnant.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“No, that’s not exactly– I just–” you sighed. “This isn’t what he ever wanted for me.”

Ransom made a small noise of understanding. “You think he’ll be disappointed in you.”

There was no judgment in his tone, but it still made you shrink in on yourself a little. You nodded.

“Listen, it’s no secret that I think he’s a sanctimonious asshole.” You opened your mouth to start defending Steve, but Ransom shook his head. “Let me finish. It’s clear that he loves you. I think you’ll be ok. And if he does give you shit, well, it’ll be just one of a few things he’s done to earn himself a punch.”

“Oh god, Ransom no, please don’t do that.”

He grinned at you. “Nah, I won’t. Some of us have self-control. I know him being here is important to you. I’ll try not to do anything to mess that up.”

You wondered if the warm feelings spreading through you would always be such a surprise. If he would always be such a surprise.

“But,” he continued before he paused to drain his mug. “I am going to try to get out of here before he gets back.”

“This is your house. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, “you should have a nice day with your brother.” Then he put his mug in the dishwasher and went back upstairs to get dressed, with you staring after him.

Ransom left and, sure enough, Steve got back a few minutes later. He went straight to the shower and you tried to busy yourself and calm your nerves while you waited for the inevitable conversation.

When he came down, his hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. There was nothing casual about his demeanor though.

“So,” he said, sitting down next to you in the kitchen, “you ready to tell me what’s been going on here?”

You started to get up. “Do you want some breakfast first? We have some pastries left over from yesterday.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down into your chair. “No, I want to know why you've sounded so upset every time I’ve talked to you since the wedding.”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze. You knew him. You knew that he wouldn’t give up until you told him everything. But you also knew how awful his reaction would be and you just weren’t ready to give everything up. “It’s just been a lot of change, you know? Of course, it’s been hard. I’m just… adjusting. It’s been an adjustment period.”

“Adjusting to what, exactly?”

“To marriage! To living in a new place! You know, the obvious.”

“The obvious is why you always sound like you’ve been crying?”

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “You know me,” you tried. “I’m emotional.”

“You’re emotional?! Is that what he says to you?” Shit, he was already getting angry and you hadn’t even told him anything yet.

“No! God, Steve. That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to say that it’s been a difficult transition, but I’m starting to feel better about it.”

“And I’m asking you to tell me exactly what about it has been difficult.” 

You wanted to growl. Once he got an idea in his head, he was so fucking intractable. “What’s been difficult about moving across the country to a brand new city and living with a stranger??”

“Yes. Exactly. In detail please.” And then he just stared at you and you wanted to scream. 

“I’ve been a little lonely,” you conceded, hoping a partial truth might satisfy him. “Ransom has to work a lot and it’s been hard to know what to do with my time.” And then, without giving him time to react, you asked. “How about you? How are you? Now that I’m out of the way, is Joseph trying to set up matches for you?” It was a low blow, but you were grasping for any defense you could reach.

“I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on.”

“I'm trying! It's just a lot more complicated than you realize and I think that maybe once you're in an arrangement of your own–”

“My marriage won't be anything like this.”

At first, all you could do was gape at him. Then you just sighed. “I don’t think,” you started slowly, “that you can have any idea what a marriage like this is really like until you’re inside of it, Steve.”

He shook his head. “I know what sort of man I am,” he said confidently. “I know how I’ll treat my wife.” And you saw it then, the pity in his eyes, and everything in you bristled.

Sanctimonious. That was the word Ransom had used. You loved your step-brother so much. You’d defend him to the end of the world and back. But he really could be such an asshole sometimes. And seeing him now, like this, you could understand why someone like Ransom might hate him.

“Well,” you said, trying so hard to keep your voice even, “you’ll be lucky then. To have such an easy go of it. I hope you don’t find that it’s harder than it looks. That appearances can be deceiving.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s why I’m asking you to tell me. I don’t understand why you won’t.”

“Because I know you won’t listen! You’ve already decided what’s going on here!”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious! I know you, and I certainly know him. So yeah, when you’re crying every time I talk to you and you send me cryptic texts wishing I was here, yeah, I think I have a pretty good guess about what’s been going on.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you growled a little. Then you sighed. It was inevitable. You knew it. At this point, you just wanted to get it over with. “Ok. Fine. But you have to actually listen to me, ok? Like, to what I’m actually saying. You can’t just jump to conclusions. Okay? I’m serious.”

“Chip, yes, of course. I’ll always listen to you.”

You took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s been– It’s been really hard here. I’ve been on my own almost the whole time and it’s just been really lonely. You just– you can’t know what it’s like to be married to a stranger. We haven’t known how to talk to each other and I just– It’s been really hard for both of us.” At that, Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t stop now, you had to get this out. “Anyway, um, a few days ago I learned some news, that was–” You paused to try to find the right word. You had no idea how to classify it. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, but what other word was there? “And then Ransom found out and that’s when I texted you. And slept in the gym.”

“What was the news?” Steve asked, gravely. He was looking at you so intently. You really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to.

You looked off into the corner of the room, unable to get this out and meet his eyes at the same time. “I’m pregnant,” you said quietly.

Steve stood up so abruptly that you couldn’t help but jump. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he actually snarled. You’d never heard his voice do that before.

“Steve, please,” you started, both hands out in a placating manner. “Please, can you calm down so we can talk about this?”

But, of course, he ignored you. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, helplessly. “He’s out. I don’t, I don’t know where.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and stood rigidly, his hands on his hips. You could practically see the untapped adrenaline coursing through him.

“Can you please just sit down?” you pleaded. “Just take a deep breath and sit down and we can–”

“I’m going for a run,” he said, curtly, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“But you just got back from one!” you called after him. He wasn’t even dressed for a run. But that apparently didn’t matter. He was gone.

You just sat there for a moment, completely lost, with no idea what to do. Then you got your phone out and texted Ransom.

He knows

Don’t come back for a few hours, I think. He needs time to calm down. I’m sorry.

The checkmark showing he’d seen your message appeared almost immediately, quickly followed by the three dots that showed he was typing, but then those disappeared. A few moments later they came back but quickly disappeared again. No response ever came.

The men from the storage company came to take Ransom’s gym equipment away. You threw yourself into directing them, happy to have a distraction from worrying about where Steve was, what he was feeling. But then they were done, the room was empty, and Steve was still gone.

Ransom got back first. He found you in the former gym, trying to rearrange the couch cushions in the center of the room into something more comfortable. He paused in the doorway, Lola dancing around at his feet. “Where’s Steve?” he asked, as he bent down to pet her.

“He, uh–” you said without looking up, “he went for another run. He wasn’t very happy.”

“Fucking asshole,” Ransom muttered.

You finally looked at him, shaking your head. “No, he just doesn’t handle it well when he doesn’t know how to fix something.”

Ransom looked at you very seriously. “And if he makes that your problem, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That's not– That's not what happened. That's not what he's doing.”

He stared at you for a long moment, causing you to look away, uncomfortable with the attention. “Okay,” he finally said with the hint of a sigh. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you want company or…” He trailed off and shrugged, then left the room.

About an hour later, Steve burst back into the house, yelling into his phone. “Well, where the hell did that money go? There’s no reason for him to be that over-budget. I’ve seen the dailies. –No, you get down there and you get that set back under control. –I can’t, I’m not in LA. There was a family emergency. –Yeah, I know Joseph is still there. He isn’t my only family, is he? Listen, just go do your goddamn job.” With that, he hung up his phone forcefully then stomped upstairs without acknowledging you or Ransom where you were seated on the couch.  

You could feel the irritation coming off of Ransom but he didn’t say anything. You were grateful. You had no idea what to make of Steve right now, how to explain him. Or excuse him. The awkward silence was preferable to trying.

Several minutes later, Steve came back down, changed into fresh clothes again. He smiled at you in greeting and if not for the tense set of his shoulders, you would have thought everything was fine. “Hey,” he said, “I just ordered the two of us some food.”

“The two of us?” you asked, looking pointedly at Ransom.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed and the fucking fake look of surprise on his face made you want to scream. “I didn’t realize he was back. Well, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s his house. He’ll be able to scrounge up something.”

“Steve,” you started. Of all the unbelievably rude– 

Your ramp-up to letting your brother have it was cut short by Ransom’s hand on your wrist. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. He looked tired and sad in a way you hated. He looked annoyed too, beyond belief, but underneath all that, you also saw something pleading in his expression. You remembered what he’d said this morning. He wanted you to have a nice day with your brother. So you swallowed down all of your anger and didn’t say anything. But you cataloged everything so you could have a private conversation with Steve later.

“See,” Steve said with a smug grin, “it’s fine. This will be nice. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to pig out together. I got all your favorites.”

Despite your protests, Ransom made himself scarce. The food arrived shortly after he disappeared and Steve dished it up like nothing was wrong. You sat and ate with him, even though you weren’t much up for conversation, despite his frequent efforts. He never said anything about the news you’d shared that morning. You tried not to be too hurt by that. 

As you were finishing up, Ransom quietly reappeared, grabbing something to drink from the fridge. Before he could run back upstairs, you stopped him, feeling awful that he must feel so unwelcome in his own home. “Do you want some food?” you asked, gesturing to the copious leftovers. “I could make you a plate.”

Not waiting for Ransom’s response, Steve cut in. “Is that how it works around here?” he asked, not of you but Ransom. “You’ve got her waiting on you on hand and foot?” his voice teeming with anger.

“Steve,” you hissed, trying to stop him, but he didn’t notice.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued, and there was a sharp edge to his voice that made you very nervous, “you must have thought you hit the jackpot, huh? Some sweet, naive little thing who's too young to really be plugged into the right part of the prep school rumor mill. Hasn't heard about the designer drugs, or the girls, or the parties. All the trouble your family's had to bail you out of. That's why they had to look clear on the other coast for an arrangement for you, huh? They had to go that far to find anyone who didn't already know what a piece of shit you are–”

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS” you shouted, your stool loudly scraping against the hardwood floor as you stood up. It’d barely been there, you’d barely seen it, the flash of deep hurt on Ransom’s face before he’d covered it up, first with a blank mask, then a sneer that threatened to bring everything down. But you wouldn’t let that happen. You were fucking done. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “Can you just stop, Steve?! I’m so tired of this shit!” you yelled at him.

“What?” they said in unison, both men facing you now, surprised.

“Lola!” you called out. “Come on! Steve and I are taking you for a walk!” She came racing down the stairs, and you quickly put on her harness and leash. Then you were out the door, trusting that Steve was behind you.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. You could feel him watching you warily, but you didn’t turn around to look at him. You didn’t think you’d ever been so mad at him in your life. It might’ve been the angriest you’d ever been with anyone. Your hands were shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you finally seethed, stopping so suddenly that he almost ran into you.

“What?” His obliviousness made you even angrier.

You finally turned on him, your face heating up with rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole! You’re fucking everything up!”

He cowed just a bit at your glare but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?! I came here to help you!”

“Well, you aren’t! I keep telling you that you aren’t but you never fucking listen to me!”

He recoiled a little, and then his eyes went steely. “Really? I never listen to you? I’m the only one who ever listens to you!”

Even if that were true, there was something about the way he said it that really pissed you off. “Fuck you!” you said and charged forward with Lola running to catch up behind you.

A moment later, Steve was on your heels again. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since I got here.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “I’ve been acting off?! I wonder why! You’ve just barged in here like a bull in a china shop, not caring at all about the damage you’re doing!”

“I’m here to help you. I’ve been defending you!”

“Yeah, now! You’re trying to help me, now!”

“What does that mean?”

“Where have you been, Steve? You’ve been MIA the last three months, and now when things might actually get better, now you’re here to ‘defend’ me.”

“Better? This,” he hissed, flinging an arm towards your stomach, “is better?!”

“We had to do it. There was a clause in the contract. You know that!”

He scoffed. “Yeah, and I'm sure he reminded you of that every chance he got, as he fully took advantage of it.”

If he hadn't already set you off, that would be the thing to do it. “Never! Ok? I was the one who pushed it. I was the one who rushed It. Me. Never him.”

That brought Steve up short. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because of your aunt!”

For a frustratingly long moment, he just gave you a confused look. Then you finally saw the realization dawn on his face. “Oh. Laura.”

“Yes, Laura! That wasn't going to be me. Not ever.”

“I never would have let that happen!”

The laugh that burst out of you at that was cold, hard. “How?” you asked. “You're always saying shit like that, but what, exactly, would you have done?”

He started to answer, but you cut him off quickly, shaking your head.

“This is my life, Steve. Mine. I’m the one who has to actually live it. I don’t need you judging me for how I choose to survive it.”

“You shouldn't have to just survive it,” he said. His tone had suddenly turned sad. It made you even angrier. 

“I'll be lucky to survive it,” you growled. “You get to just waltz around, forgetting how this world works whenever it's convenient for you. Meanwhile, I have to claw and fight for just the possibility that I might not turn into my mom.” You took a deep breath. “Ransom, at least, can fucking see that. He's stuck in this mess with me, and I think he might actually want to try. You’re not going to ruin that for me just because he insulted you once at a cocktail party or whatever.” You turned on your heels. You were exhausted. You didn't have the energy for any more of this. “I'm going back. You can come if you want. But you better fucking apologize. He didn't deserve that. No matter what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way by you.”

Steve was a few minutes behind you getting back to the house, and he did apologize, although through gritted teeth. The whole time, Ransom’s eyes were on you. 

You declared you were going to bed shortly after. It was too early, but you didn't care. You were done with this day.

As you were changing into your sleep clothes, Ransom quietly let himself into his room. You both looked a little startled by your state of undress. Part of you wanted to cover up. It felt so intimate, changing in front of him. But you knew that was silly. He'd already seen so much more of you. 

He just stood there for a long moment before he finally spoke. “You yelled at him for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “He deserved it.”

“But he's your brother.” He almost seemed confused. 

The absolutely absurd thought And you're my husband popped into your head unbidden, but thankfully you didn't vocalize it. “That doesn't change the fact that he was wrong.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. Just stood there with a furrowed brow. After too much silence you asked softly, “Did I do something wrong?”

He jolted a little, like he’d been somewhere else, then shook his head. “No, sorry, I just–” He took a breath. “Thank you. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You suddenly felt so sad for him. But honestly, the only person who’d ever done anything like this for you had been Steve. And you’d seen Ransom’s family. You knew he’d never had a Steve.

Sparing you from having to figure out a response, Ransom took a deep breath, “Listen,” he started, “about the things he said, I–”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. Sometime, maybe, but not right now.” Nothing about his past would change things for you now. You’d still be married to him either way. It was better to just focus on the man he was showing himself to be now.

Ransom took a long moment and looked at you carefully. Finally, he asked, “Did you yell at him for yourself too?”

You nodded, then added a quiet, “I did.”

“Good,” he said, then started to turn around. “I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you whispered.

Right before he left the room, he turned back to add one more thing. “I’ve never seen you as naive. Not for a moment in this whole thing.” Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

You just stood there, in the middle of the room, unable to move for a few minutes. Then you took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom. As you finished getting ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that maybe you had two people in your corner now.

Your bedroom furniture and other belongings were delivered the next day. The movers set up the heavy furniture and then left everything else to you. As you started to begin unpacking, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame. 

Steve stood just outside your now bedroom, looking far less sure than you were used to. “Would you like some help?” he asked softly. 

“Sure,” you said, with a little shrug, pushing some boxes in his direction.

The two of you mostly worked in silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional questions of where you wanted your things to go. After a while he finally broke, “Dad’s been piling a ton of new stuff on my plate.” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, listening. “Responsibilities and projects and– He wants me to take on more of being the face of the studio, too, so lots of parties and dinners and stuff. My schedule has been out of control. I’d think he was getting ready to retire if I didn’t actually know him.” He let out a weak chuckle. When you didn’t react, didn’t join him, he put his hands up in defense. “Not an excuse, just–” he shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly and sighed, “just an explanation, I guess.”

“You told me that I could call you any time of day for any reason. That’s what you said. And then I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I know,” he started, “I–”

You shook your head. It was your turn to talk. “I spent months here feeling more alone than I ever have in my life. I’ve had nothing to do, no one to talk to. I was living with someone I thought I needed to be scared of.” You paused, wondering if that would set Steve off, but he just sat there, waiting for you to continue. Like he was really trying to listen this time. “His family’s been so awful to me, his mom especially. And you know my mom's been no help. She just kept telling me to keep him happy, even though I didn't know how. And I didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to me. But I knew the only way I could even start to feel secure here was if we fulfilled every part of the contract. So,” you put your hand on your stomach self-consciously and shook your head. “And the only person I actually wanted to talk to was you, and you wouldn't pick up your fucking phone. It felt like I was just stuck here while you went back to your life and forgot about me.” Tears spilled past your lashes and you hurried to wipe them away.

Steve’s face, which had grown sadder as you'd been talking, completely crumpled. He crawled from his sitting position across the room to you as fast as he could. “Hey, no,” he said emphatically as soon as he was sitting in front of you. “I think about you all the time. I've missed you so much. I've been so worried about you. I know I haven't done a good job showing it. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't care. I–” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, they had the distinct shine of unshed tears. “Talking to you was really hard. I felt like you weren’t actually telling me anything.” Before you even opened your mouth, Steve put up a hand to stop you from saying anything. “I'm not saying any of this was your fault. I know it's all mine. But I just didn’t know how to get you to talk to me. And if you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, then I couldn't fix it. I felt so useless. Every time we talked I felt so fucking useless. And so sometimes,” he paused like he was bracing himself, “sometimes it was kind of a relief to have the excuse of being busy. To have a reason to not call or text you back right away. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I was always thinking about you. I was always worried about you. But sometimes I just couldn't fucking talk to you.”

It took your breath away, the intense stab of hurt you felt. “I’ve never needed you to be useful,” you gasped out through your tears. “I just need you to be there for me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I just need you to be there for me.”

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice so thick. “I know.” He moved forward, then paused, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn’t, he lunged for you, wrapping you in his arms. “I know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

You just sat like that, holding each other for several minutes. When you finally pulled apart, Steve blinked his eyes clear and said, “I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, and took a deep breath, “and I forgive you for doing it anyway.”

You watched some of the rigidness leave his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Neither of you said anything, and there was still this tension in the room. You were so tired of it. You just wanted your brother back. You just wanted any normalcy you could possibly get, so you wiped the tears from your eyes and said, “You're right. I wasn't telling you anything. I think because I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't listen past the first two words and then do something completely wild, like fly all the way across the country to punch Ransom in the face. Ridiculous, right?”

He just stared at you in shock and then clocked the wry smile on your face. He laughed despite himself, then rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're sure he didn’t deserve it?”

You pulled a small pillow from the box beside you and threw it at him, annoyed as he dodged it easily. “Yes, I’m sure, you asshole!” You scowled at him, but you couldn’t quite keep the corners of your mouth from ticking up. The whole room felt lighter now, easier to breathe in. It was such a relief.

“I can’t believe you actually like him now,” Steve whined, his whole face scrunched up in disgust.

You shrugged. “I still don’t really know him. But I’m going to try to. We both are, I hope. I don’t know, I think maybe we could be friends, eventually.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a best-case scenario I never really imagined.”

Steve looked at you thoughtfully, and with a hint of playfulness, said, “Well. I’m never going to like him.” His eyes got a little more serious. “But I’m really happy, and so relieved, that things are getting better for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said softly. Then you both went back to unpacking, conversation ebbing in and out much easier now.

Eventually, you heard him let out a long sigh. You turned to look at him as he carefully pulled something from a box. Oh. It was Mr. Bun Bun, your favorite stuffed animal as a kid. You remembered crying as you packed it away to put into storage, Steve sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back.

He slowly took a few steps to the head of your bed and then reverently placed it against your pillows. He just stared at it for a moment and then looked around at the rest of the room. “Wow,” he said, and he sounded so sad, “I guess you really live here now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I've been here for months.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess,” he shrugged, “I guess it still sort of felt like you'd be back any day. But all your stuff's here now. It just– It feels final.”

You looked around the room as well. It wasn't exactly like your old room in your old apartment but this was the closest thing you'd had to feeling home in months. “Yeah,” you said quietly, not quite sure what to do with these feelings. “I guess it does.”

Steve sat down on your bed and you immediately joined him. He knocked his knee against yours. “I know I keep saying this, but I really do miss you. It’s so weird to not have you in LA anymore. To go to all these parties and not be able to talk to you there. Or to be able to just drop by your apartment when I need to see you. Or when you need to see me.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s why it’s so important for us to actually keep in touch.”

“I know,” he said, seriously. “I’ll be better at it. I promise.”

You hummed in response and grabbed his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was such a relief to just be able to enjoy his closeness, without the tension hanging over both of you.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m gonna go home tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You were right. I’m just in the way here. It’s time for me to go.”

“Ok,” you replied, your voice small. You weren’t sure how to feel about that—the last few days had been so hard and so exhausting. But you’d finally gotten your brother back and now he was leaving again? “Are you sure?”

He jostled you with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently with a smile. “I’ll be back. And I’ll even let you invite me next time.”

You smiled back. “Advanced notice?” you asked. “How novel!”

Steve grabbed one of your pillows and hit you with it. You collapsed into giggles, feeling lighter than you had for a long time.

You spent the rest of the day with your brother, which warmed your soul even more than you thought you needed. 

You took Lola out for a short walk in the evening, while Steve finished gathering his things before the car would come to pick him up. When you came back in, you found Steve and Ransom locked in a serious conversation. They spoke in hushed tones, leaning across the kitchen island to face each other. There was no yelling. No tensing muscles ready for a fight. All the same, it made you very nervous. 

They both quieted as they noticed your presence. That didn’t help to quell your worry at all. “What’s going on here?” 

Steve gave you his trademarked boyish grin. “Just getting to know my brother-in-law.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously then cast a concerned glance at Ransom, but he waved you off with a reassuring shake of his head. Steve was still grinning at you like everything was fine. He really could be such an asshole. “Sure. OK,” you said, resigned to whatever weird dynamic was happening in front of you. “Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Steve nodded, gesturing to where his luggage was waiting by the door. “Car should be here any minute.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. He pulled you into a hug quickly. He just held you for a moment before you heard Ransom clear his throat behind you. “I’ll give you two your privacy.”

You pulled away just enough to see Steve look over your shoulder so he could say, “Remember what we talked about.”

You looked over to Ransom who held Steve’s gaze and firmly said, “Yeah, you too,” then went upstairs.

“The fuck was that?” you asked Steve.

“Nothing, just a conversation we needed to have.”

“Steve,” you sighed in exasperation as you separated yourself from him.

He put up his hands in defense. “It’s fine. I’m playing nice. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He took a step back and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s one more thing I need to say to you. I should have done it yesterday when you first–” he shook his head. “My reaction when you told me about the baby was awful, I know that. And I don’t know if ‘congratulations’ is something you want to hear right now, so I just want to say that I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. And I’ll be here for the baby too. OK? I just really needed to say that.”

You searched his face, his eyes for anything that might warn you that his words were empty, but all you found was sincerity. You took a deep breath. “All I need is for you to pick up your phone.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “I will.”

You were so torn between the exhaustion and frustration of the last few days and just how much you'd missed your brother. You pulled him into another hug. “You’re such a jerk,” you said with a hint of fondness.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“And I love you so much.”

You felt him exhale, any remaining uneasiness bleeding out of him. “I know. I love you too.”

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. “Your car is here,” you said sadly, pulling away.

“Hey, that’s ok. It’s not like they’ll leave without me.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you should go. You don’t want to get home too late.”

“Oh, chipmunk,” he sighed. “Ok, one more,” then hugged you again. “I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “What for?”

He took a moment to gather his words. Finally, he said, looking you right in the eye, “For being so much stronger than you should have to be.”

You had no idea what to say to that so you walked over to the door, Steve right behind you. 

At the door, he put one hand on his suitcase, and with the other, he grabbed your hand. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

You nodded, searching for something to say. “Uh, thanks for coming.”

That elicited a big hearty laugh from him. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed your hand. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You too,” you said, opening the door for him.

He gave you a big smile before he walked out the door. You watched the driver take Steve’s suitcase from him and open the back door for Steve to get in. You stayed in the doorway until the car slowly backed down the driveway and turned onto the road. After closing the door, you still stayed where you were, trying to breathe through the flood of emotions overtaking you. You already missed him so much, yet you were so relieved he was gone. What were you supposed to do with that?

You were finally jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Ransom coming down the stairs, the tinkling of Lola’s collar accompanying him. “Steve’s gone?” he asked as he came off the last step. 

When you nodded, you saw the way his shoulders slumped in relief. You held back the apology desperate to crawl out of your mouth. Steve’s actions weren’t your responsibility, you tried so hard to remember. But still, Ransom had lost the comfort of his own home for days. The guilt was there.

He got himself a water out of the fridge and then looked at you carefully. “How are you?”

The reflex to tell him you were fine was strong, but you did your best to resist it and answered honestly. “I don’t really know.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “I have no idea what’s normal for siblings.”

You chuckled lightly. “Neither do I.”

He took several steps towards you and you couldn’t help the way your body swayed in his direction, just a little. “But you’re alright?’

You nodded and said softly, “I will be.”

“Good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the fingers on one of his hands drummed against his thigh. “Well. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, strangely aware of the space between you. “I appreciate it. It was a weird few days, but I think I’m ok. Or I will be.”

“Yeah. Good,” he said again. 

You both just stood there for a moment, the air around you oddly charged, until Lola pawed at your leg. “Right. Well, she needs to go out. So. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, then turned toward the sink as you went outside with Lola.

When you got back in, there was no sign of Ransom, so you led Lola upstairs to your new bedroom. She immediately hopped onto your bed, wagging her tail wildly. As you looked around, all of your things almost as they’d been in your apartment in LA, those feelings you felt while unpacking your things with Steve grew in you even more. You smiled at your little dog. “Yeah, feels almost like home, doesn’t it, Lola?”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @thiquefunlover63 @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign @reader2003 @zaqnette @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @itsteambartowski @mrsstuckyboo @promiscuousbarnes @womoon @as-white-as-snow-love @bigsimperika @nerdyjeansblog @creatingjana @@titty-teetee2

[into-the-feniverse]

You've heard of "Hamlet, but Hamlet's a chicken" now get ready for....

It's important to me that I share that this was my placeholder image in drafts for the past couple days

Also

[syndrossi]

Restoration AU: Robb I

Previous part, Arya I, here.

x~x~x

Robb was not allowed out riding, or to join his father’s knights and men-at-arms in search of the ruffians who had kidnapped his young half-brothers and dragged them to Winterfell for ransom or worse, which meant he had sought the yard instead. Even that was a mistake. He could not thrash the targets the way he desired to, not with all the curious eyes upon him.

Show anger, and all would know that there was strife between him and his lord father, that the dishonor had caught their family unaware. And while it would be satisfying to express his fury at the depths of his father’s disloyalty, it would draw attention to his mother as well, inviting cruel whispers.

Robb lowered his sword, stepping back from the target. He exchanged it for his bow, and although the rhythm—draw, aim, release—stilled his thoughts for a short time, they wandered instead to Bran’s excitement when he had found Robb and Jon in the yard that afternoon, touting his discovery.

It seemed a lifetime ago, rather than mere hours. A part of him had known from the moment he laid eyes upon the boys, the dark-haired twin so alike Jon that it had felt like staring at his brother from across the span of five years. Jon’s own shock had been little comfort.

The rumors had not reached his mother before Robb did, after his father’s curt dismissal, and he had been faced with an impossible choice: let her learn of her husband’s betrayal through the whispers of her ladies or break the news himself as gently as he could.

I do not know for certain, he had told her, still fostering the faintest hope that there might be another explanation, but she had paled nonetheless, her attempt at masking her heartbreak to spare him all the more painful.

She loves him. She has always loved him. Robb had thought the same true of his father, and he did not know how much it would hurt to learn otherwise. That Jon’s mother had not been the tryst of a man who thought he might die in battle, but a bed he eagerly sought out the next time fate took him south for war.

Robb lowered his bow, the arrows of his quiver spent, and stared at the distant target, flickering in the torchlight. For once, he was glad that Theon was nowhere to be seen. His friend would have nothing but crude japes, and Robb was in no mood for such.

He desired answers.

His feet took him past Sansa’s room, where he had gently guided her after supper and promised her, with a kiss to the hair, that things would seem less bleak in the morning. Then past his father’s solar, where he could see the glow of light escaping from the crack beneath the door.

Hiding away, like a coward. It was not how he would ever have described his father before today, but there was no other way of putting it. If he is not begging Mother’s forgiveness, then he should be comforting the terrified children whose dishonorable birth turned them into pawns.

Robb paused outside Jon’s door, then rapped lightly with his knuckles. A few moments passed before the door opened, and it was not Jon who he found himself staring at, but rather his smaller counterpart. Willam, Robb reminded himself.

“Would you like to come in?” Willam asked, gazing at him with such raw longing that Robb found himself torn between tenderness and fresh fury.

Did Father even look in upon them since hiding them away in Jon’s chamber? A glance past him revealed no Jon. His twin sat on the bed, his gaze at Robb more wary, and telltale plates from the kitchen were stacked on the small table in the corner of the room. Their supper, taken alone to spare the family further shame today, when it was their father who should be shouldering its brunt.

His little half-brothers were innocent in this. Had they even known of their origins? They had the bearing of highborn children, but none of Jon’s quiet acceptance of his lesser standing.

“Yes,” Robb said, realizing he had not answered. He stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him, and found that the other child had risen to his feet, though he maintained his distance. “I—” Has Father even told them of their siblings? “I am your half-brother, Robb.”

The boys reintroduced themselves, Willam tripping over his own name. Robb wondered whether their mother had knowingly named another son after her first. Or was Jon’s name of their father’s choosing?

Now that he was in the room with them, Robb did not know what to say. His gaze kept straying to Raymar, who was as unalike his trueborn siblings as Ghost was to his littermates, as though their birth had split them between each parent.

That is what she looked like, then. The woman he traded his honor for. Pale hair, silver as the moon’s glow through the window, his eyes an unnatural violet. They both shared Jon’s slighter build, which must have come from her as well.

A foreign woman, with that kind of coloring. A courtesan, perhaps. That was the fancy name they gave their whores across the Narrow Sea, and bravos fought for the honor of bedding them. But where had his father stumbled across her?

He had been silent for too long, Robb realized. He did not know what to say to them. “Where is Jon?”

“He went to take Ghost back to the kennels.”

“Oh.” He felt almost numb, staring into the face of a strange child who looked like his brother, and another who looked like betrayal. “How are you faring? Did your captors harm you?”

There were no obvious bruises or cuts upon them, but then, his father had said that their captors had dosed them with dreamwine. The twins assured him, however, that they had been unharmed—unbound, even.

“He said that if either of us caused trouble, he would hurt the other.” It was the first Raymar had spoken since introducing himself, his expression haunted. Willam too had tensed, watching his twin with obvious upset.

I should not have asked, Robb thought, chagrined. Not when they have yet to sleep. These are questions for morning.

“Father’s men will find him,” he said, offering his best reassuring smile, but it did little to ease their distress. In fact, both seemed on the verge of tears now, and he stood helplessly. If it were either Bran or Arya, I would go to them. Comfort them.

But the circumstances of their relation held him back. They did not know him, he reminded himself. It was not the same as Father abandoning them with Jon, all of them tied fully by blood.

Jon’s return caught them all off guard, his brother quiet as his direwolf pup as he slipped back into the room. He halted in place as he marked Robb’s presence, and they stared at one another for what felt like an age. There was no hiding from Jon, or Jon from him.

What hurt was the wariness, as though his brother was expecting Robb to lash out at him, when he had always strived to intervene whenever Jon happened to draw his mother’s ire. And what cut even deeper was the way his brother’s eyes narrowed as they fell upon the twins.

Jon rushed over to them, then turned back to Robb. “What did you say to them?”

“Nothing,” he replied, unclenching his fists. “We greeted one another, and I assured them that whoever kidnapped them would face justice.”

“Is that why you came at this hour?”

“I came to see how you and our new brothers were faring,” Robb said defensively, but he knew it to be a lie when he spoke it, and by the tightening of his mouth, Jon did as well. “What did Father tell you?”

“About my dead mother?” Raymar flinched, and his twin’s hand grabbed for his, but Jon did not seem to have noticed, his gaze locked on Robb. “What business is it of yours?”

Jon did not often snap at him, and he felt himself bristle in response. “It is my mother who was dishonored by their actions.”

His brother regarded him coldly. “She was beautiful, born to a noble house of Lys, and Father swore beneath the weirwood tree that he loved her.”

The words hit like a physical blow. Robb’s fists clenched again, denial rising in his throat, hot and ugly. “Whatever love he had was for her cunt, or he would not have left every time he stuck a bastard in her belly.”

His vision whitened as Jon slammed him into the door, knocking his head back against it. He could taste blood in his mouth from where his teeth had cut into cheek, and it did not matter that he had deliberately provoked his brother, all he could feel was a betrayal that quickly soured to anger.

“I do not care how beautiful her face, but how rotten her heart,” he said, ignoring the glitter of his brother’s eyes as his grip tightened around the fistful of tunic he had grabbed. “She knew of his marriage and still enticed him into her bed. A woman can be highborn and yet a whore.”

Jon’s right hand drew back, and Robb could feel his brother quivering from the effort of refraining from punching him, so he stared back in challenge, inviting it without knowing why. Let him prove himself to be what all bastards are, said an ugly voice that sounded like his mother. But he also longed for a scrap, to throw his fury at someone if it could not be his father.

The castle itself rattled then, a rumble of what sounded like thunder resonating deep within his chest. But the night is clear, he thought in confusion. Jon took a step back from him, the tense moment broken, his expression equally confused.

He became aware then of one of the twins speaking in a foreign tongue. Valyrian, he assumed, gazing past Jon to find Willam speaking frantically as he held back his fiercely struggling brother, who was staring death at Robb even as tears streamed down his face.

It is their mother too. His anger abandoned him, taking its short-lived respite with it and leaving Robb with a fresh guilt atop the hurt that ached within him.

The castle rattled again, the thunder more distant this time. An apology danced along the tip of his tongue, but he could not force it out.

“Just go, Stark,” Jon said, releasing him. His jaw worked a moment, then he turned his back on Robb, steps quick as he closed the distance to the twins and wrapped his brothers both in a tight embrace. His true brothers.

More words caught in Robb’s mouth, some remorseful and others not. Misery rose in his throat, bitter like dandelion tea, and he swallowed it, feeling worse now, with more answers, than he had before foolishly deciding to come here.

Robb left, closing the door quietly behind him, and stood in the hall for a time, staring at the opposite wall. He could hear crying in the other room, soft and pitiable. Father’s doing, he told himself, but it rang hollow. A few minutes passed, Jon’s voice muffled but audible as he spoke to the twins, and Robb awaited another roll of thunder that never came.

Finally he left, mumbling something he could not recall to Cayn when the guardsman’s patrol crossed his path back to his bedchamber. His nerves danced with the need for action, and he desired nothing more than to court his father’s displeasure by slipping out to the stables. He could claim a horse and ride into the wolfswood—find the men in search of the twins’ kidnapper and join their efforts.

But his mother would need him, and Sansa too, so he stared at the ceiling instead and settled into a long, sleepless wait for dawn.

[freakrenaissance]

I love this whole fic! The way their relationship develops? Omg, so sweet & heartbreaking... gotta reread every chapter again 💓

softie | 1. prologue.

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

series masterlist | next part →

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

summary | ransom drysdale is the last person anyone would suspect to be a doting father. but when a paternity test reveals his relation to four year old georgia pine, the man finds himself turning into quite the softie for the peculiar little girl who’s been in such desperate need of his love and care.

characters | soft!dad!ransom drysdale, georgia pine (original character)

warnings | mature themes related to child abuse/neglect, ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). loss(mother) and gain(father) of custody. unknown/secret child trope. soft!ransom, soft!dad!ransom. lots of hurt/comfort.

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

Thump thump thump. Georgia’s little legs bounce softly against the padded plastic of her car seat as she sits in the back of her social worker’s crossover, gazing out the window as the beautiful Massachusetts countryside flies by. “You excited, honey?” the kind young lady, known to Georgia and all her clients as ‘Ms. Julie’ asks.

The little girl gives no response, not surprising the young woman in the least. “I’m sure he’s a very nice man, sweetheart. He sounded like it when I talked with him on the phone earlier,” Julie continues, figuring the reassuring words can’t do any harm at this point.

Deep down, though, the woman is full of concern. Georgia Pine’s been the most serious victim of child abuse and neglect the state has seen in years, and her new guardian, Mr. Hugh Drysdale, hasn’t exactly been the ideal candidate for taking over her case. Julie was shocked to learn that he had any interest in gaining custody of the child. After all, he had no idea the small girl even existed until she was removed from her mother and step-father’s care, following the most disturbing and heartbreaking rescue the young social worker has ever witnessed. And it wasn’t just her; many of the intervention team ended up testifying that they had never seen such terrible treatment of a child in their lives. And if it wasn’t clear from crime scene she was torn out of, it’s now clearly written all throughout the poor thing. After four years of brutalization, the child’s nothing like the carefree little girl she should be.

“How’re you feeling, Georgia?” Julie asks as she continues down the road, glancing back at the little girl through the rear-view mirror. The child’s brow is raised in worry, and her bottom lip is trembling with fright. Even though everything’s been explained to her multiple times, she’s still unsure what’s about to happen; all she knows is that she’s being brought to live with a strange man she’s never met before.

“It’s okay to be anxious, sweetheart,” Julie soothes, sensing the girl’s uneasiness despite her silence. Georgia’s not one to talk unless she must, and her social worker knows this. Over the past few weeks as they’ve worked together, the young lady has become very skilled at picking up on the little one’s shifting moods, even when she’s not willing to say a single word. “It’s just for a few days, remember? Then I’ll come back and check in to see how things are going. Nothing’s permanent yet,” the woman promises.

The arrangement was suggested by Julie and agreed to by Mr. Drysdale: Georgia will stay at the Drysdale household for three and a half days, three nights. Then, the social worker will return to evaluate the fit and make further custodial decisions. This way, either side has a chance to back out. And if Julie’s being honest, she’s all but assuming the man will surely want out by the time the fourth day rolls around. From everything she’s gathered on him, there’s no way he’s the fatherly type.

“Oh, looks like this is the one,” Julie comments, trying to keep her voice light and cheerful as she pulls into the driveway of the strange-looking house. Georgia’s eyes widen as her eyes land on the peculiar building, the boxy shape and modern design features making her question if it’s actually a house at all. “It’s not like any house I’ve ever seen before, how neat,” Julie comments as she sees the little girl’s confusion through the mirror, shifting the car into park and undoing her seatbelt. Barely visible from the car, a tall man stands in the open doorway, the most noticeable thing to Georgia about his appearance being the thick fluffy sweater he’s wearing.

“I’m going to go say hello, and then we’ll come back to the car for you to meet him. That okay with you, honey?” Julie asks. Not sure how to respond, Georgia gives a small nod, earning a smile from the social worker. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll be right back,” the woman promises, exiting the car and shutting the door behind her.

“Mr. Drysdale,” she greets as she makes her way further up the driveway.

“Call me ‘Ransom,’” the man responds, a dislikeable hint of uninterest evident in his voice.

“Ransom,” Julie corrects herself as she approaches the tall set of sliding doors where the young man stands. “My name is Julie Sullivan; I’m with Child and Family Services from the state of-”

“Ah yes, Ms. Sullivan, we spoke on the phone,” the brunette butts in, flustering the woman slightly as she nods.

“We did, indeed. As outlined in our arrangement, I’ve brought my client Georgia with me; she’s prepared to stay with you through Friday morning until I return to perform an evaluation.”

“Great,” Ransom replies flatly. “Where’s the kid?”

“Still in the car,” Julie tells him, trying to hold onto her patience. “She’s brought an overnight bag with all of her belongings; I have a car seat issued by the state as well for you to use.”

“A car seat? I thought she was four,” the clueless man asks incredulously, “what, does she need diapers, too?”

“Mr. Dry- Ransom,” Julie states, a sense of near pleading creeping up into her voice. “The child is four… I thought you said you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I read over the paperwork you sent,” he waves her off, his nose scrunching slightly at the thought of all the parent-training material he had to skim through. “Don’t worry, I was mostly kidding about the diapers. We’ll be just fine,” he says, though his words do little to reassure the woman in front of him.

“You have my contact information, so please feel free to reach out at any time if you have questions or concerns. The line for the department is on my card as well, in case I don’t pick up,” Julie reminds him. “Ransom, please. Please remember everything we talked about in regards to Georgia; you need to take extreme care in your interactions with her. She’s-”

“I know, I know. ‘Not a normal kid,’ I remember,” Ransom quotes their earlier conversation. Sighing, Julie nods, knowing she has little power to do anything more than hand the poor girl over and wait to see what happens.

“That’s right. So please, please do your best to be gentle with her.”

“Alright, lady. I’ll do my best. But I gotta tell ya, I’m no softie,” he admits as the two begin making their way back down the driveway together.

Through the backseat window, Georgia watches with wide doe eyes as the pair approach the vehicle, a hoarse whimper rising in her throat at the sight of the unknown man. Opening up the car door, Julie offers the wary child a bright smile as she introduces, “Okay, sweetheart. This is Mr. Drysdale-”

“Ransom,” the man cuts her off, his deep voice causing the little girl to flinch. He almost doesn’t notice it, though; he’s too caught up thin line of tears he can see beginning to build up in her bambi eyes.

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

series masterlist | next part →

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.