#the one i was NOT expecting was Harlan. where did he come from why does he have that accent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stupidcanofpeaches · 3 years ago

Text

so remember this post about a s2 au where amnesiac vanya doesn’t immediately believe the obviously unwell thirteen-year-old ranting about the apocalypse and makes a rash decision to help him in a way that is not entirely expected.

so yeah i did a thing

for the purpose of the story five is also hit with some real life consequences of wearing the same set of clothes for two weeks straight and ignoring a barely healed shrapnel wound

it’s pretty short but i wanted to share it! ahhh i should probably rewatch s2 cause i have a feeling i got a few details wrong

also quick disclaimer just in case: since it’s a s2 au and in-universe viktor still hasn’t transitioned, i refer to the character as vanya and mean no disrespect.

Despite his siblings seemingly doing their best to be as difficult as possible because apparently dying in a nuclear blast was simply an opportunity they just couldn't pass up, Five didn't expect for Vanya, of all people, to turn out to be the most difficult out of everyone that regularly came between him and saving his family.

The worst thing is, she's successful.

///

The first thing she thinks is that the boy looks - young. Early-teens kind of young.

The second thing is that he’s talking absolute nonsense. Superheroes? Time-travel? The end of the world?

And he wants her to follow him? No. No, Vanya will not. She has things to do - she has responsibilities.

Even as she makes her way out of the field, he keeps up with her hurried pace. He also seems so indignant, so upset by her refusal, his voice jumps up and down as he talks. She tries not to listen lest she actually believes him. He’s her brother, he says, and if that other blond man is also her actual brother, then their family is an odd one for sure. They have super powers, he says. They need to save the world.

The only one that needs saving here that she can see is the boy himself.

Abruptly, she stops, and the boy circles her, stopping right in front of her. He's a little taller than she is, but she can’t help but come back to the thought of how young he is - his cheeks are round and his skin is soft and smooth, and he’s lanky in that a little awkward disproportionate way of someone who just hit a growth spurt.

He’s probably not that much older than Harlan.

And as much as Vanya doesn't want to listen to him, worry and plain self-preservation thumping in her chest, there's also something else that bothers her. It bothers her a lot.

That is a kid. A kid that's full-on rambling about the end of the world - about superheroes - and yeah, the thing that happened last night was wild but now, in the broad daylight, it seems unreal, imaginary - hard to admit that it actually happened - and he seems wired up in a really concerning way for someone his age. Something curls up in her chest as he stares at her with his jaw squared and fists clenched and she stares right back - something like protectiveness. For all of his nervous energy and agitation, the boy seems... vulnerable. In an unstable, unwell kind of way.

And, well. He is a kid. She keeps repeating that word in her head but there’s nothing else that comes to mind. Maybe this is why he reminds her of Harlan - why she feels so worried all of a sudden. Vanya doesn't have it in her to just leave him.

So when he grabs her by the wrist, a grip that is firm - his hands are really cold, she notices, and there's a couple of thin weeping cuts from the tall corn stalks and leaves that he so carelessly tore through to get to her - she doesn't shake him off, though maybe she should.

"You do understand that I can't just leave," she says, patient. "I have people to take care of."

"So do I!" he says, incredulous. "Why won't you - don't you get it? If you don't come with me, you - and they - everyone will be in danger. The whole world is! Vanya, just - we don't have much time, you have to -"

Now, he really does seem desperate to get her to follow him - but also unwilling to force her physically. Maybe he really does know her, from her past life that she cannot remember - why else would he be so - so nice, almost gentle, for all of his hand-wringing and demanding?

A thought comes to her.

She can use this.

"Alright," she says, reluctant, and he perks up. His tight grips loosens slightly. "But only if you come with me back to the house. I need to finish some things - I need to tell Sissy that I - that I have to go."

He gives another exasperated, wavering long sigh of open frustration. He lets go of her wrist. "That's the only way I'll go," she tells him firmly, but softens a bit when she notices him look around in this harried, frustrated way of his. His jaws are clenched achingly, and his eyes are too tired for someone his age, with an odd glint to them.

“I can’t just leave without saying goodbye,” she adds, softer, and that phrase - that does something, because she can see him inhale sharply.

"Come on," she says, and now she's the one reaching out. She takes his hand in hers, and the boy startles at the contact, pulling back a little before seemingly forcing himself to relax - which is more than a little weird because he didn’t have a problem touching her hand just a moment ago. Is it because she’s the one who reached out this time?

She looks into his face until his eyes meet hers. Bright, green eyes. Too bright. He really is unwell, she thinks with concern, and tightens her fingers around the bony hand, the way he did moments ago. Too skinny, too.

He's dressed in a once-fancy looking school uniform - nothing she recognizes, no surprise there, but with an embroidered emblem on his chest and prim knee-socks and shorts - and it's all wrinkled, worn, with a dark stain on the collar and what looks like an unrepaired cut on one of the sleeves. She can smell a hint of sweat on his clothes up-close; looks like he's been wearing this uniform for a while, non-stop, without changing or washing, and his hair is ruffled, sticking up oddly in the back.

How long has he been out there, wandering in the fields or somewhere in the city, feverishly rambling something about the apocalypse, the end days, seemingly looking for his family, until he stumbled all the way out here? How many people have ignored him, when he was looking like this?

Vanya was not going to be one of them.

"Hey," she says, almost whispering, and the boy swallows. His throat jumps. "You look... really tired. How about you go with me? I'll could get you something to eat, and then I'll wrap up some things and... and we'll go and take care of the, uh. The apocalypse."

She holds the eye contact steadily when the boy narrows his eyes suspiciously. God, he really, really does look tired. She fights the urge to try and touch his forehead, to check for fever. He doesn't look feverish - but he's just this shy of being unhealthily pale, and seems shaky to her.

"A sandwich, maybe? I will make you some tea, or... or coffee."

She doesn't know what prompts her to say that, kids that age shouldn't have coffee, but bizarrely, it seems to work. The boy's shoulders droop.

"Alright," he finally says tersely, and then pulls his hand away from hers. She lets him. He clears his throat a little oddly. "Alright," he says again. "I could - I could use a cup of coffee. But we'll have to be quick, do you understand me, Vanya? We don't have any time to waste."

Sure we don't, Vanya thinks. Someone should've helped you days ago.

There's urgency in his voice, a manic sort of belief that she knows better than to argue against. "Of course," she lies instead, not particularly convincing but the boy doesn't seem to catch it.

"Lead the way," he jerks his head, sticks his hands in his pockets, looking sour and unhappy with himself.

So she does.

She can tell by the rustle that he is following her. "Sure hope your coffee is better than Klaus's," she can hear him grumble, and has no idea what to make of that. Who the hell is Klaus?

By the time she can see the house, there's an idea forming in her head.

The house is empty: Carl is at work - probably, unless he’s off getting sauced, and Sissy and Harlan - Vanya's not sure where they are. There's a good chance that Sissy went out looking for her, she thinks, and her heart squeezes with guilt and worry. She must have taken Harlan with her because it's simply not safe to leave the boy all alone in the house, and Vanya wasn't here to look after him. She doesn’t see any notes that would make it immediately obvious where Sissy went, either.

She'll have to make up for it later - somehow - explain it all.

Well, if everything works out the way she plans it, she'll have even more things to explain. She's not looking forward to that, but she can't seem to think of another way to keep the boy safe and in the house. He's restless, edgy, eyes darting around the place as she leads him into the kitchen - she knows he'll be crawling all over the walls in five minutes flat if they're not out of here by this time.

Thing is, Vanya's not planning on actually going anywhere with him. She has things to do - she has responsibilities. It just so happens that now this green-eyed, skinny boy is one of them.

"So, coffee?" she says, and the boy grunts in acknowledgement. When she gestures to the chair, he sits down quite heavily, the way an old man would sit down, and then puts one ankle up and over his knee, hunched over. There’s something about it - familiar? something that makes her stop and blink, and then the boy frowns at her and the moment is gone.

She turns around, picking up the jar of that new freeze-dried instant coffee stuff that Carl brought home recently and the sugar, and sets the already full kettle on the stove.

"Milk?" she asks, and the boy shakes his head.

"No sugar, either," he says, and Vanya bites the inside of her cheek. That - that would make her plans a little more difficult.

"Just one spoon, maybe," she suggest carefully, "for the energy. You look like you could use it. When did you last sleep?"

"Vanya," he breathes out, and he sounds even more tired like this. "That's not really what's important here."

"One spoon," she says again.

He gives her a look, but doesn't protest - just raises his hand to rub his forehead. He keeps his palm over his eyes for a long, long moment, seemingly almost falling asleep sitting up - but so unmistakably tense he's clearly still awake - and that's exactly what Vanya needs to slip the dissolving pill right into the mug.

It's a good thing they keep them close by even now, though these days they barely even use them, not as much as Sissy had to before - a fact that Vanya was aware of because it was Sissy who told her that, with a soft wonder at just how good Vanya was with him, so good Harlan had less and less of those fits, as the doctors called them.

Before, when they were frequent and exhausting, she could tell it was really, really bad by the look in Sissy's eyes, by the way her eyes hardened and glazed over like china glass - the doctors gave her a last-resort type of medicine - sedatives. Strong ones. They had the ampules for injections for when they couldn't get Harlan to calm down even a little bit, the ones where he wouldn't look at them or touch them, would barely react - the ones where he couldn't stop screaming or hitting himself whatever they did, and Sissy hated using those but they were quick - and they also had the ones that came in pills. Dissolvable pills. They must have tasted awful because Harlan hated them as well, but hopefully the coffee and sugar would mask some of that taste. Enough for the boy to drink at least a few gulps - she knew that even that much would be enough for it to take effect.

He is bigger than Harlan, though, so without giving herself the moment to hesitate any more, she slips in a second one, just in case.

She doesn’t feel good about this when she swirls the spoon in the coffee uneasily, and her stomach churns even worse when she turns around from the counter to face the boy and sets the mug on the table in front of him. When he looks up at her briefly, hand already coming up to wrap around the handle, it’s not with suspicion or tension that she expected to see, that neurotic urgency - no, it's affection, same one he greeted her with in the field. Small. Grateful. "Thank you, Vanya," he says, quietly, and brings the mug up to his lips.

Half of her hopes that the pills won't work.

She forces a smile back. This is for his own good, she tells herself, as the boy scrunches up his nose after the first swallow. It's necessary.

"Almost worse than Klaus's," he says, seemingly to no one in particular, and looks down at the mug, deliberating for a moment. Vanya waits with baited breath. "Ah, well. Could be worse," he eventually mutters under his breath and brings it up again, swallowing the hot liquid almost too quickly. She lets out a soft exhale.

"It's the new type," Vanya informs him, feeling a little weak in the knees, and leans back against the counter for support. "The instant one."

"Ah," the boy acknowledges her, and takes another big swallow. He drinks coffee like his very life depends on it, with big long gulps; like he spent days and days in a dead dry desert without a single drop of water and this was his saving grace from an inevitable death of dehydration.

In just a few minutes, he manages to pour at least half of it down his throat, clearly itching to finish it and get out.

Because she promised him they'd go once he gets some coffee.

He doesn't even get to the bottom when she notices his eyes start to droop, blinking heavily. He raises his hand again to rub at his eyes. The coffee mug is unsteady in his hand, and he shakily sets it down on the kitchen table. Vanya watches him, throat dry, his sharp figure in the warm sunlight - a brief moment of peace.

She should get ready to catch him in case he starts to fall on the floor.

These meds do work quick. She forgot just how quick they are.

"Are you okay?" she asks him anyway, knowing full well what's happening.

"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "Just - long week. I..."

He sits still for a moment, but then his whole body suddenly stiffens.

When he pulls the hand away from his eyes, he looks up at her, blinking rapidly, it's different - there's a horrified sort of muddled understanding that makes her face heat up. His eyes dart to the mug then back to her helplessly flushed face.

"You," he says, voice wobbling. "Vanya, did you - what did you -"

He shoots up so quickly yet unsteadily that his movement sends the chair rocking on its legs precariously until it stops safely again a step behind him. His hand remains on the table, the other hand up and out - balancing him. He takes a small wobbling blind step backwards, not taking his eyes off of her, and Vanya takes a step toward him. His fists clench, and for a moment she can see some sort of bright glow swell up around him - but it’s so quick, she blinks and it’s gone.

His breathing is rapid, uneven.

“No,” he manages. “No, what - what did you...”

When his free hand, the one he's not using for support, goes up, she half-expects for him to rub his eyes or try and grab something for support.

But instead, the boy brings it to his mouth - and clamps down his teeth into the meat of his thumb.

She realizes what he's trying to do all too quickly, and while he's clearly desperate, she can tell his muscle control is weakening by the second, he's wavering more and more - she crosses the room in a heartbeat, and when she tugs his hand out of his mouth in a quick, practiced motion, holding it up and away by his thin wrist, there's not much damage done just yet. All she can see is a red imprint of his teeth - not cuts. Might bruise, but won’t bleed. Good. He pulls back at it, and she doesn't let go.

Harlan does this, sometimes, when the sounds get too much or when he's trying to tell her something and she just can't understand so he gets frustrated and overwhelmed and hurts himself - to express whatever is it that he has bottled up that won't let him stay still. What this boy is doing is the same but also different - he probably wanted to use the pain to regain some control to do - something. She knows he wanted to do something. Vanya won't let it happen - he was always stubborn like that - or, well, right, he seems very stubborn, the type to fixate and not let go.

The boy stumbles back, almost collapsing back into the chair, and this time she lets him wrench himself away but hovers cautiously above him.

He leans on the table heavily, fists clenching with an effort to keep himself standing upright - but then his legs buckle and he topples over backwards again, this time right back into the chair. His hand slams into the mug with the remainder of the coffee, sending it flying to the floor sideways. Vanya winces at the sounds of it breaking sharply. The boy's chest heaves up and down as he gasps, and he blindly palms the table, pushing at it, pushing at the chair - trying to claw himself out of it, out of the kitchen. Away from her. It's no use: his movements are underwater-slow, hazy, uncoordinated. Already, he's slowing down again from that brief burst of adrenaline - his palm hits the table top and then stops, fingers curling and uncurling weakly, and his elbow sort of pushes at the back of the chair he's now crumpling into, but all of his pushing and fighting only succeeds in flopping his body forward awkwardly, overbalancing, his own weight pulling him down on the floor - not up. He wouldn't be able to stand, anyway. His legs sluggishly kick at the floor, shoes scuffing at the floorboards.

Vanya rushes over to him before he manages to throw himself down on the floor with his squirming and crack his head open, and only flinches a little when he suddenly makes a sharp, angry, desperate whine at her touch.

"I want to help you," Vanya says into his ear, firm and calm, now holding him by the shoulders, keeping him safely in the kitchen chair. The boy shakes his head. His whole body is shaking with a frantic emotion, one that she cannot name.

"Vanya," he mumbles, slurring now. Like this, he sounds delirious. "Vanya. You're killing us. You're gonna - we'll die, Vanya, we - Vanya, we'll -"

His voice cracks. He sounds desperately convinced, and so - well - scared, she feels a little bad for doing this.

He's also barely making any sense now. Killing them? How? We?

No, as bad as she feels, she's definitely doing the right thing - he's not well, he's lost, he's scared, he needs help and Vanya's giving him exactly what he needs even if he doesn't understand it.

"Shh," she murmurs, the sound soft as it slips out from between her teeth, and the boy makes a protesting sound low in his throat. "Shh," she shushes him again, and then dares to lean him forward until his face is pressed into her shoulder.

The movement feels natural. Something compels her to do it - maybe it's because he looks so small like this, and so honest-to-god terrified in a sharp contrast from his previous pushy confidence. He pushes back at her, and she barely feels it. She can tell he’d be full on struggling to push her off if he could.

She wants to help him. That's the entire reason she's doing this. Vanya will help him.

"It's okay," she tells him, honestly and warmly, and strokes his back over the jacket, making circles with her fingers. "It's okay, just go to sleep... we'll figure out what to do once you get some sleep, okay?"

The fight drains out of him. "Va," he forces out, words all jumbled and strained. his hands are still now, no longer pushing back at her - helplessly curled into her shirt, weakly pulling at it, hand shaking back and forth. "Va - V'nya. We... we h've to - h've t' go. P... pl'se."

She hates how despondent he sounds - the way he shakes even as her hands draw calming patterns into his skinny back. One of his hands loosens its grip on her shirt and slips off to lie on his lap.

And even like this, he's still trying to convince her.

Poor kid.

He really is sick.

"There we go," she says soothingly slowly as he leans into her heavier and heavier, "there we go. Just let go..."

She brings her hand up to his neck, stroking the short hairs there comfortingly. She can tell he's clinging to consciousness with the last of his strength. There’s some wetness she can feel soaking through her shirt right where his face is - just a little.

From her awkward position Vanya can see the broken coffee mug and a little puddle of coffee on the floor - not much of it left; he really drank pretty much all of it, and he did it quickly. The meds were designed to work almost instantly - no wonder his body was giving in so quickly and so readily.

The tremble in his body softens, and then he makes another one of those awful, stifled sounds - something like a pained whimper - and then he finally goes silent.

Vanya keeps stroking his back until she can hear his breaths even out. When she cautiously moves him to slump back in the chair, rearranging his position, and his head lolls to his chest - she sees that his eyes are finally closed, a wet trail on one of his cheeks from one of those no doubt angry, frustrated tears that she felt on her shirt, and his whole body is heavy-limp and unprotesting, and she breathes out a long sigh. His whole expression is slack - obviously out like a light.

She did it.

Vanya knows she did the right thing. Somehow, it still doesn't feel quite right - she doesn't even know who this boy is - his name is Five, she thinks he said? - and where his parents are, if somebody's looking for him - and yet, she practically drugged him, in the home of the people who so generously gave her food and shelter, with the medication of the boy she's actually looking after.

This sure feels... illegal.

If she kept him here - to help him, of course, he's too young and too obviously unwell to take care of himself - would that be considered a kidnapping?

No, no. He said that she was his sister. An older sister, by the looks of it. If he was telling the truth, then she just took him into her custody for a bit. Because she was his older sister and had the right to do this. Right?

The worry brewed.

Still, she couldn't just leave him there, and she couldn't just up and follow him to do whatever it is that he wanted for her to do in the name of his delusional story about the end of the world.

"There we go," she whispers to the empty air. "Now, let's get you to bed."

The boy, of course, offers no answer.

///

a couple of notes: while instant coffee was already a thing back then, freeze-dried instant coffee was new. yes i specifically researched instant coffee. and also all kinds of sedatives boomed in the 1950s and dissolvable sedatives were very much thing in the 60s though they were less popular compared to the 50s when everyone and their grandma used them for everything.

and yes i keep piling up all kinds of wips on top of one another. may is gonna be pretty busy for me so honestly no guarantees on how and when this will get continued. i might add this as a one-shot to my series of short h/c snippets on ao3. thought y’all might enjoy this one either way!

also shoutout to @clementineofmine for telling me that corn leaves are actually kinda sharp so irl five would probably have a few cuts from pushing through the rows the way he did in the show!!

#tua #fanfiction #five #viktor #s2 #used vanya for this fic bc at this point in the story viktor hadn't transitioned yet #cause it's s2 and in s2 we still have vanya #and this is a s2 au #whump #i guess #might rework this more in the future #drugged five is an oddly consistent theme in my fics #huh

29 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writings #ransom drysdale series

236 notes · View notes

meteorrogers · 4 years ago

Text

chocolate covered strawberries | r. d.

summary: a precious person like you was what had been missing in Ransom’s life.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: fluff only, language, implied smut maybe?, oh and beware of fucking soft!Ransom

word count: 3,479 (less or more)

a/n: well, i certainly didn’t expect it to be this long. anyway, this is a soft and ooc!Ransom fic, no spoilers because i follow practically nothing from the movie (at least i think). excuse my errors, please, and enjoy!!😊let me know what you think!!

Ransom is furious, driving home from another family gathering that couldn’t end any differently than with yelling, insults, and throwing things at each other. He has no idea why he‘s still going to these things, he always swears to himself that the next time will be the last time. Maybe somewhere deep inside of him, there’s still a sparkle of hope that one day he will have a normal conversation with his mom and dad.

He needs something to calm him down and while a drink and some bimbo he’d meet in a bar sound amazing, it is still early for that. On his way home, there is this bakery he‘s always liked to stop by because they have the best fresh-from-the-oven chocolate-filled croissants to ever exist. They are maybe even better than alcohol. Just maybe.

He leaves the coat in his car and heads towards the entrance. The bell above the door rings as he enters, taking his sunglasses off. The shop is quiet except for the soft chatter of the patrons that are occupying some of the seats. He doesn‘t even need to look at the display case with all the baked goods, he already knows what he’s having, so he heads directly to the counter to order.

After the cashier takes his order and disappears in the kitchen, Ransom slowly moves to the waiting counter where a young woman is chatting with the older man (Timmy, he thinks is his name) that owns the place together with his wife. The woman has a big genuine smile on her face and occasionally a beautiful laugh leaves her mouth when Timmy says something supposedly funny. Ransom has never seen her before. Maybe it’s not so early to charm his way into a woman’s bed after all. He gets closer and as Timmy hands her her order on a pink paper tray – two Halloween themed cupcakes, with white frosting, yellow and orange sprinkles and a little marzipan ghost sticking out – Ransom only hears their goodbyes.

You are still smiling, cheerful from the conversation you had with Timmy as you turn around, ready to leave, and enjoy the sweet treat on the way home. But you don‘t even have the time to react when you suddenly collide with a solid figure. You stumble a little, but strong hands on your shoulders steady you, which you don‘t even realize since your mind‘s only focus is on the mess you have caused. And just like that, your smile disappears.

“Oh my god,“ you gasp and your eyes widen as they scan the not-so-white-anymore cable-knit sweater covered in frosting and sprinkles. “Oh my god,” you repeat, a little louder this time. Panicking, you quickly dispose of the tray with crumbled cupcakes, taking an unnecessarily high number of napkins from the holder on the counter and trying your best to clean the beautiful cozy-looking piece of clothing.

You have yet to see the person’s face, either too embarrassed to look them in the eye or too concentrated on getting the crumbs out of the wool. Probably both.

“I am sorry.” You say, throwing the dirty napkins on the counter. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going. I was still so absorbed in the conversation that I didn’t notice you,” Oh, god, here comes the downpour of babbles… „And I didn’t even hear you come behind me or maybe I wasn’t paying attention, that’s prob–“

Your gibbering is interrupted by the stranger’s hand circling your wrist, also stopping your frantic movements.

“Would you calm down? It’s just a sweater. I can buy a new one.”

You finally look up, your eyes meeting ocean-blue ones with hints of green around the pupils. His voice sounded empty, emotionless and you aren‘t sure if he is upset or just doesn‘t care.

“Oh,” slipping your hand out of his hold, you break the eye contact, the situation too embarrassing for you. You look at the mess on the countertop, the paper tray still laying there, dirty napkins scattered across the surface and some of them even found their way to the ground.

Shaking your head, you grab all the garbage, bend down to pick up the ones on the floor and throw it into the trash can situated in the corner.

You turn back to the man, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Um… Can I at least pay the cleaning bill?”

“It’s fine, really.”

He still hasn’t cracked a smile.

“Well, let me buy you something sweet then. What’s your guilty pleasure?” you smile again and look over his shoulder, studying the selection of desserts.

“I said it’s alright,“ he bites. “Besides, I already ordered.”

You don‘t expect him to snap at you like that so it kind of shocks you. Better let sleeping dogs lie…

“Okay,” you nod. “I’m sorry again,” you stuff your hands in your coat pockets and head out.

Ransom stands there, looking at your leaving form and he sighs. Shit.

When you bumped into him, he was really pissed that you ruined his clothes at first, but then you started apologizing, cleaning him and rambling . That infuriated him even more. Why the hell did you even care? It wasn’t even your sweater!

You were annoyingly sweet, which Ransom isn‘t used to at all. Sure, women are nice to him, giving him that fake sugary smile just to get into his pants. He never complains, of course, it makes getting laid much easier when they’re trying to get his attention, not the other way around. But it was just an act. The smile you gave Timmy was genuine and so was the concern about his sweater. How was he supposed to react?

His thoughts are interrupted by the young employee who took his order, signalizing his croissant is ready. He takes it and turns to leave, his face still painted with… confusion?

“Fuck.” He curses silently. You can‘t be far. If he hurries, he can still catch up to you and… apologize? He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, except for one thing.

He faces the cashier again. “Hey, could you give me two of those Halloween cupcakes? With the ghosts. And wrap it up. Quickly,“ his voice is intimidating, arrogant and the boy doesn‘t have the balls to argue so he just does as he is told. Ransom snatches the covered tray from the boy’s hands and sprints out.

He looks around and luckily sees you not so far away from the shop so he decides to add a jog to his steps as he follows your direction.

“Hey!” he yells to catch your attention, which he successfully does. You turn around, brows furrowed, stopping when you notice the man from the bakery.

He runs up to you and when he reaches the place where you’re standing, you open your mouth again.

“Oh, did you change your mind?” Your hand makes a move to reach into your bag. “Just say how much and I’ll –”

“No.” He interrupts and confusion becomes evident on your face again. “As I said, it’s fine.” You expect him to continue, to tell you why he stopped you in the middle of a street. But he just stands there, looking at you as if he expects you to say something.

See, when Ransom spontaneously came up with this great plan, he didn’t think it all the way through. He seriously didn’t know what he was going to do, so now, he is just awkwardly shifting on his feet as he contemplates what to say.

“Here.” He shoves the mini tray into your hands. You look at it and then back at him, still confused. „It’s the cupcakes you bought before my sweater decided to have a taste.“

Really? That’s the smoothest thing you could think of? Jesus, what is wrong with you?

But you laugh. And god, is that a beautiful sound. Wait, what?

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” you smile and before Ransom can argue, you stick your free hand out. “I’m (Y/n).”

He closes his fingers over yours. “Hugh… I mean, Ransom.”

The smile doesn‘t leave your face. “Well, which is it?”

“Ransom, you can call me Ransom.”

“Nice to meet you, Ransom.”

You have known since the beginning that Ransom has some skeletons in the closet. Hence the rudeness when you first met and struggle of wording out an apology for his manners. He managed to apologize in his own way and that was okay with you. You know people who don’t even try, but Ransom? He did his best and for that, you gave him your number when he asked.

It didn’t take him long to call you and ask you out. You agreed.

When he asked you on a date, his plan was to take you out for a dinner in a luxurious restaurant, order some expensive wine to get you a little bit tipsy, and spend the night at your place. The next morning he would silently sneak out of your house, block your number and never see you again.

But you are here, sitting across from him, with that big smile on your face, wearing a lovely cream knee-length dress that shows just the right amount of skin which makes him horny and at the same time, he just wants to focus on not how hot, but how beautiful you look.

“So, tell me more about yourself,” you say after the waiter takes away the empty plates.

There is no way he will talk about how filthy rich he is, how his grandfather owns one of the most successful publishing companies and lives in a huge mansion in the rich part of town. No, he’ll save this information for the gold diggers.

“Well, you might know my granddad, Harlan Thrombey?” Okay, nevermind. “He owns Blood Like Wine?” In his defense, this is all he’s ever talked about with girls. He just needs practice.

You nod. “Oh my God, yeah, of course, I know him! I mean, not know know him, but I’ve read some of his books! Just don’t ask me about them, I’m not exactly a number one fan.” you scrunch your nose and his mind tells him how adorable that is. Shut up, brain.

“Okay, I won’t.” he laughs genuinely. He always fakes laugh when he is on a date if you can even call the ones he’s been on that. “Besides, you can’t be a number one fan even if you wanted to, because that place is mine.”

“I wouldn’t assume anything else. Are you close with your granddad?”

He averts his eyes for a second and clears his throat.

Instead of answering, he throws the question back at you, his voice defensive, maybe a little too harsh. “Are you close with your granddad?”

The corners of your mouth slightly falter and you look down for a second before facing him again, “I was. He died when I was 15.”

“Oh.” Ransom’s face softens.

“But I loved him. Every Halloween, I’d force him to tell me scary stories all day and all night.” you smile at the memories. “You know, I’m sure he and your granddad would get along. He did come up with some pretty amazing tales.”

And suddenly, he is intrigued. “What was your favorite?”

You tell him about the cursed toy factory, how every Halloween all toys come to life and they stuff all the employees with plush so they become these living toys, too, and from all the anger, they do the same to the future workers the following year.

He laughs at that, agreeing that your grandfathers would indeed be good friends.

“I’m not that close with my granddad,” he says after a few moments of silence. What surprises him is your hand carefully coming to take his which was laying on the table. His eyes focus on your thumb that is stroking his knuckles as he continues. “I’m not close with anyone from my family, actually.” Why is he telling you that? Fucking stop.

He clears his throat and withdraws his hand, scratching the back of his neck.

“You ready to go?” he asks and you just nod.

He isn‘t in the mood for sex anymore, so he drops you at your place and speeds home. God, what are you doing to him? There is something about you that makes him want to open up to you, spill all of his secrets, desires and dreams.

It felt kind of good to tell you about his family, but to be honest, he is scared. He doesn‘t want another person that’s just going to treat him like a worthless piece of shit in his life. I mean, he is, but it would just make him even more shitty.

He’s decided. He is not going to see you ever again.

Then his phone beeps.

(y/n): I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable but I had a great time! I’d definitely be up for doing it again! You can tell me more about your family:)

He scoffs. Why the hell would you want to hear about his family when he told you he’s not close to them?

Then the phone beeps again.

(y/n): Or not! I mean, we can talk about whatever you want! But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. That’s what I meant.

A smile involuntarily makes its way on Ransom‘s face. Maybe he will see you again.

Since you started spending a lot of time at Ransom’s house, he convinced you to bring some of your stuff. Some clothes, your favorite mug with a whale, saying mornings blow, books and a strawberry-scented shampoo which Ransom became to love.

Almost every morning you share a shower. Sometimes it escalates into a morning shower sex, but most of the time you try and fail to tame him, even though you remind him and yourself of all the times you’ve been late for school, which he doesn’t really care about, to be honest.

You head to the bathroom first, because it takes time for him to get out of bed. After a while, he joins you under the stream of water, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he kisses you where your neck meets your shoulder and licks the drops of water from your skin.

You sigh in contentment, putting your arms over his and enjoying the relaxing moment.

Seconds pass and you turn around, taking the bottle of your shampoo while doing so, squirting some into your palm, and the scent of strawberry fills your nostrils. As usual, you bring your hands into his hair, massaging the liquid into his skull and he closes his eyes in bliss, humming.

“You enjoying yourself?” you smirk.

He opens his eyes again and smiles, those butterflies in your stomach coming to life.

“You know I do.” He leans in to kiss you, your arms circling his neck. His hands slide to your butt, kneading the flesh before they grip the back of your thighs but when you are about to jump, he shrieks.

“Shit!” he backs up and his back hits the opposite wall.

You panic, not knowing what’s happened. “What?! Baby, what happened?” You come to him and his fingers are already rubbing at his eyes.

“My eyes! My eyes!” He screams. “I can’t see shit!”

You suppress a laugh, reaching up to remove the hair from his face and wipe away the suds. Then you reach for the detachable showerhead, turn down the temperature, and put it in his hand.

“Here, baby, you have to rinse them.”

He does just that, moans still leaving his mouth at the stinging.

After he finally manages to get all the chemicals out of his eyes, you can‘t hold it anymore. You burst out laughing, unable to stop and he just stares at you with a scowl, putting the showerhead back into its place.

When he turns to leave, you grab his wrists.

“Oh, baby, come on.” you wipe the mixture of water and tears from your eyes. “Don’t leave me here all alone.”

He frowns, his bottom lip sticking out just a little bit. “Might as well. I’m not gonna let you make fun of me.”

The grin is still on your face but you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his pout away. Ransom immediately reciprocates the kiss, pushing you against the wall.

“It hurt,” he says in between the touches of your lips.

“I know, baby,” you say. You pull away and smirk. “Is there a way I can make you feel better?” your suggestive tone hits his ears before you’re sliding down the wall to your knees.

Thank God he didn’t leave the shower.

It’s Friday night and you are watching TV this time in your apartment. Ransom still hasn’t come home from the mansion where he’s spent most of the day, as well as his family. He’s been working with Harlan for quite a while now which boosts up his confidence (not arrogance, there’s a difference) a little and it makes him feel better about himself, proud even, that he‘s finally useful. However, Walt has been giving him shit for it ever since Harlan gave Ransom a chance to be the Acquisitions Editor (of course, he has been pestering him long before that, but now it’s even worse).

Ransom can defend himself, you’re not worried about that, but his family brings out the worst in him, they push him into this dark place that is hard to find a way out of and sometimes you’re afraid that it will destroy him. That’s why you’ve promised yourself that you’re always going to be here for him, no matter what.

And as you expected, you hear your door being unlocked and then slammed shut with a force. He doesn’t even jokingly call out his honey, I’m home! which he never forgets to do. Uh-oh. Doesn’t look good. But again, you didn’t expect anything else.

He comes to the living room, strands of his hair sticking in every direction and falling over his forehead.

“Jesus, why’s it so hot in here?” he takes off his maroon sweater, revealing his plain white t-shirt underneath.

“It’s winter and cold. You expect me to have snow in here, too?”

He just shakes his head, coming to the back of the couch as you crane your head to give him an upside-down kiss. Then he heads to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for something to eat, meanwhile, you turn off the television.

“There should be three croissants in the breadbox!” you say loudly enough for him to hear.

“You want one, too?”

You answer with a no and wait for him.

When he comes back to the living room, he sits next to you and leans his back on the armrest. You’re already looking at him, watching his every move, and trying to see a sign of any emotion he might be feeling. He gives you a knowing look and you shift so you are fully facing him, putting your hand gently on his bent knee and lightly stroking it in a comforting way.

“Three, huh?” he asks with his mouth full.

“Just in case it went really bad.” you give a nervous smile, waiting for him to either confirm or rebut.

Seeing the crumbs fall from his mouth, you reach for the plate that is on the coffee table and give it to him.

“Well... nothing I’m not used to.” he takes another bite of the chocolate pastry. Once he swallows, he takes your hand and kisses your palm. “I love you.”

You smile and lean towards him, supporting yourself by putting both hands on his thighs as you kiss him on the lips that now taste like cocoa.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his mouth.

After Ransom finishes the pastry, instead of going for more food, he lies down, putting his head in your lap. It‘s kind of a ritual now, every time he comes home (his or yours, wherever you are) after visiting his family, he satisfies his sweet tooth (sometimes it’s 1 croissant, sometimes it’s 5), then he sprawls his body on the couch and rests his head on your thighs, nuzzling his face into your stomach while you thread your fingers through his hair and read a book or watch the TV.

“You want to talk about it?” you ask softly.

You stroke his ear with your thumb. He stays quiet and then sighs.

“Later.”

You bend down as much as your position allows you to, placing a few kisses on his temple and across his cheek before you let him drift off to sleep.

You are Ransom’s safe place, just like he’s yours and always will be.

the end

a/n2: so, ehm... *crickets chirping* okay! i have a thing for fucked up guys who i believe can change if you show them a little bit of love, sue me! no but seriously, Ransom is an asshole and he would probably shove the rest of the cupcakes into my face but a girl can dream, right?

anyways, i do have some ideas for part 2 even if it looks like this doesn’t necessarily need a second part..? it could probably be read as a stand-alone but i’ll see if i even decide to post it lol.

thank you so much for reading, any kind of feedback will be appreciated!🥺❤️i love you, guys!!

oh and my other work can be found under #writer luci !!

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale oneshot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale x female reader #knives out #knives out imagine #knives out fanfiction #knives out fanfic #writer luci

206 notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i wanted to request a smutty fic w prompt 100 with ransom and reader. maybe they were at a party and someone was hitting on reader and touching her and ransom got mad. 🤗

Hi love! Again, to everyone (including you) that has sent in a request, i’m sorry it’s taken so long. I feel bad for making people wait but i never wanna upload work that’s anything short of great in my eyes. I always want to be at my best. This didn’t quite go the way i wanted it to but i really hope it’s still good. Everyone reading, please feel free to leave feedback. It helps and is very appropriated.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else touch you”

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, smut, sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, slight ownership kink (if you squint) and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,563

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @kylosrehn go check them out💜

Over My Dead Body

When making plans for the weekend with Ransom, going to a party full of stuck up rich people wasn’t exactly on your agenda. But, seeing it’s part of his lifestyle, you made an exception and besides it was yet another party hosted by his grandfather Harlan.

You never used to attend these parties since Ransom never invited you. He preferred to keep your interactions strictly bedroom related, nothing more, nothing less. It was beginning to confuse the hell out of you because sometimes on a rare occasion, he’d let you meet his friends and family.

But as previously stated, it’s rare.

When the two of you first met, sparks flew instantly. Your friend had introduced you, she was on a date with her boyfriend, her boyfriend brought him along just like she brought you along.

Their way of setting you two up. And it worked.

A solid 2 hours after meeting the man, he was balls deep inside of you making you forget your own name and turning you into a moaning mess underneath him. Since then you’ve been hooked. Whenever either of you are horny, you fuck.

But like any other fuck buddy relationships, there’s a catch. You two have a clear love for each other, one that neither of you will ever be brave enough to admit. Mostly because Ransom is a huge commitment phobe. The thought of only being with one girl for the rest of his life scares him and you just don’t admit your feelings because the thought of being rejected weighs heavier than the optimism of it working out in your favour.

Although he’s scared of settling down, Ransom sure did seem keen to bring you along with him to this party tonight which now you come to think of it, he’s been like that the last few times he’s taken you out.

Maybe he’s changing his mind.

“Red wine?” you hear, turning your head to see the man himself holding a wine glass for you and a tumbler glass for himself, no doubt filled with whiskey on the rocks. He does love his whiskey after all.

“Thank you, so tell me again. Why am i here?” you ask before taking a rather large sip of your wine, you certainly need liquid courage if you’re going to talk to these people.

“Who else would i have brought?” he responds, voice monotone, almost as if he’s bored and very uninterested. So all this time you thought there was a possibility of him changing his mind when in reality, he’s just been bringing you along to all of these lavish parties to keep up appearances.

No doubt to keep that controlling mother off of his back.

You shrug, continuing to look around as Ransom greets some of his grandfathers guests. One of them looks at you before looking at Ransom who eventually introduces you two, attempting to strike up some small talk until he’s being dragged away to talk to a group of men who no doubt are a lot older than him. Leaving you stood all alone.

That’s when you spot a guy across the room. He looks around Ransoms age. Tall, expensive suit, blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus he seems friendly. He raises his hand to wave and you reluctantly strut over, greeting him with a shy smile which he reciprocates.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing stood all alone?” his compliment has you flustered and unsure how to respond but still, you find the words “thank you and i’m not alone, i came here with Ra-”

“Ransom Drysdale, yeah i saw you with him, where did he disappear to?”

“I have no idea, off talking to random strangers” you chuckle nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed about his absence. Little do you know, Ransom can see you with this mystery man, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight of you laughing.

Surely he can’t be that funny, he thinks to himself. But he is. He’s hilarious.

“So what do you think drew her to him then?” you giggle, gesturing to the couple next to you, a woman who’s dressed up to the nines with her husband who looks a lot older than her “oh obviously his looks, what makes you question her intentions?” he smirks and you shove him playfully.

“Oh of course. What was i thinking? Silly me” you wink, downing the rest of your drink in seconds before he takes another flute of champagne off of the waitresses tray for you.

“If i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re trying to get me drunk sir” you say using your best posh voice. Unbeknownst to you though, Ransom can hear your whole conversation, every single thing you’re saying to this man.

But can he really be mad? You’re only talking to, right? Besides he’s not exactly your boyfriend so you’re free to talk to whoever you want. Not that you want anyone else.

What he won’t admit now though is how jealous he is right now, he’s had just about enough of another man making you laugh the way that he’s supposed to make you laugh and now the only way this man is taking you home is over his dead body. But for now, he’s gonna make use of his best poker face, side eyeing the two of you on the sly as anger starts to build.

You start to look around the room yourself, trying to find Ransom and as you do, you spot him heading over to the drinks table so you decide to take that as your opportunity to excuse yourself, joining your date.

“Hey you” you bump him, a cheesy grin plastered across your face, one that fades as quickly as it appeared thanks to Ransoms straight and unimpressed expression.

You stand in front of him, blocking his access to the drinks “is everything okay?” but instead of an answer, you get silence. No response whatsoever. Why is he ignoring you?

“Ransom?”

“What?” he mutters, evidently agitated “what’s wrong?”

He chuckles in response, shoving past you to get his drink and lifting the tumbler to his plump pink lips, practically gulping it down without even so much as a flinch “oh don’t worry, everything is fine. Hey why don’t you go back to your little conversation with Mr Perfect will you” and just like that, he’s storming away from you and up the stairs to the second floor, instantly regretting sending you back to that man.

What could have gotten him so wound up?

If seeing you with that guy is the problem then maybe he shouldn’t have left you.

And without a second more to overthink and fester over his random outburst, you return to the other gentleman. One who knows how to treat you with respect as opposed to shutting you out.

“Hello again” he beams “i was about to say your name but then i remembered we never exchanged those”

“I’m Y/N”

“Jack”

“Nice to meet you Jack”

“Likewise”

The two of you shake hands as another conversation sparks up, pushing all Ransom related thoughts to the back of your already full brain.

Whilst Ransom is sat in the bathroom. Flustered, angry and ready to blow his lid at something so small. A situation that means nothing. That man means nothing to you, surely. You’re just being friendly, after all he did leave you to go and socialise. What did he expect you to do? Stand in the corner away from everyone?

You don’t want this guy though. Jack is just a friend you’ve made here. You want Ransom and he wants you too but his pride is in the way.

God what is wrong with him?

Evidently a lot.

One minute he’s all over you, taking you to parties and the next he’s giving you the silent treatment and acting like you’ve done something wrong.

And the only reason for his odd behaviour is because of the plan he made for tonight. Anyone who knows Ransom knows very well about his thoughts on relationships but with you, things are different and they always have been. You force him out of his comfort zone, you challenge him and you make him better. He was so nervous for tonight that the second the two of you arrived at the party he was drinking and acting strange.

As much as the thought of settling down scares him, he knows that it’s much better to tell you than watch you leave and find someone new. Seeing you with that guy only confirmed that.

After spending who knows how long in the bathroom trying to talk himself out of kicking up a fuss, he heads back down to the party, maybe he should go and spend more time with you but as he walks down the stairs, he instantly spots you and that same guy again. His hand is on your arm and you’re way too close for his liking. Close enough to make his skin crawl and his jaw clench even tighter.

He storms over, hearing his voice as he does so.

“So i know you came here with Ransom but i was wondering if i could maybe get your number?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he anxiously awaits your reply.

Jacks nerves are abundantly clear until Ransom cuts you off, stopping you from opening your mouth to respond. He tugs on your arm, pulling you back “the answers no, prick” he snaps, dragging you through the crowd and out into the cold night air, barely giving you a chance to say goodbye to anyone and causing goosebumps to form all over your bare arms and legs.

“Ransom what the fuck?” you yell, trying your best to yank your arm from his tight grip “just get in the fucking car” he demands, opening the door for you. How chivalrous of him. His raised voice made you jump a little, cowering slightly and leaving you with no choice but to do as you’re told.

The second he gets in too, he’s shoving the key in the ignition and speeding off away from the party. Jack and all of the crowd long forgotten not just out of sight but out of mind too. Now all you can think about is Ransom and what’s got him so angry all of a sudden as he was pretty happy on the journey here.

You daren’t speak though, god forbid. Your words will only wind him up further.

Knuckles start to turn white as he grips the steering wheel like never before, his fingers tapping frantically which is an obvious indication of his need to get home as soon as physically possible.

You honestly can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this angry in the whole time you’ve known him and that’s quite literally the scariest thing about this.

Eventually you reach his house, or should you say bachelor pad and he barely waits a second for you to exit the car before he’s storming off into the house without you.

Once you get inside he’s nowhere to be seen until you hear a loud slam of a door coming from upstairs. You head up and into the master bedroom instantly to find him undressing and discarding his clothes across the room.

“Ransom” you approach him with caution, worry filling your soft and caring voice but the moment you’re a few inches away and about to touch him, he shoots around, scaring you.

“Would you have given him your number?” he questions, his blue eyes looking deep into yours almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Who? Jack? No, of course not. Why’re you even asking me that?” you protest, hoping he’ll believe you but now you come to think of it, you probably looked way too close for comfort.

“Lies”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because it sure seemed like the two of you were getting awfully cosy tonight, laughing, drinking, touching each other” he explains, closing the space between you and making you gulp.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t of treated me like i was invisible all night then i wouldn’t have needed to make friends with him. You forget that you barely said a word the whole time” now you’re the one that’s angry as you step back after your outburst, watching him carefully. His next actions shock you though as he just laughs, turning away and speed walking across the bedroom to the en suite. But before you can even follow him, he slams the door, making you flinch and then as you thought he would, he locked it.

Why can’t he ever be mature enough to talk about things. All he ever does is avoid confrontation. You don’t really like it either but at least you’re trying to sort whatever issue has him all in his feelings and angry.

Rather than sitting and waiting for him to leave the bathroom, you decide to go and get ready for bed in the other one, showering before getting dressed into whatever you can find. Which just so happen to be a shirt of his.

He dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist before unlocking the door and walking out to find you sat on the bed.

“The answer is no and that’s the truth”

“Oh yeah? Then why was his hands all over you like you were there with him tonight?”

“That was nothing, we were just laughing. What about you though huh? Snapping at me all night, leaving me and then deciding at the very last second that you want to spend time with me. Felt a lot like just another one of your games” it doesn’t look like he believes you and now you’re over trying to prove yourself.

“I left to talk to people and i was acting funny because going to those parties never end well, i wasn’t playing games with you” he stalks towards you, closing the gap.

Okay, now that makes sense. It explains all about how his behaviour changed when the two of you entered the actual party.

“You know, seeing you with that guy wasn’t easy. I got angry. All this time i thought you knew that you belonged to me, clearly i was wrong” his fingers graze your arm before settling underneath your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Maybe you need a reminder” he’s so close to you now, his hands are all over your waist, moving down agonisingly slow towards your ass. He smacks the backs of both thighs as a signal for you to jump and you do. How can you resist?

His lips attack yours in a brief and passionate kiss before he throws you down to the bed “i’m gonna make you forget all about him” he then removes the towel.

You furrow your brows watching as he lifts your (his) shirt up, revealing your laced panties. His favourite on you. He spreads your legs with his hands as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to press a firm kiss to the inside of both your thighs.

That’s when he does what he always does, turns you into a moaning mess by devouring your pussy like a man starved. Sucking, slurping and flicking his tongue all over your sex effortlessly like your body was made for him. Just how you felt the first time he ever touched and tasted you.

“Mhmm, just like that” you run your fingers through his styled locks, messing them up without a care. “I’m the only one for you" he mumbles and it vibrates onto your clit making you giggle.

“You’ve always been the only one” you whisper and he looks up at you with lustful eyes but also a look of love. One you’ve not seen before or maybe you’ve never noticed.

The way he looks at you isn’t new but all this time you’ve assumed it’s because of his attraction to you, that he’s only looking at you that way because of his uncontrollable lust.

“Only i am allowed to touch you like this, taste you” his lips wrap around your clit, sucking like his life depends on it as his thick digits tease your dripping entrance “s’wet sweetness”

You tug a little harder as you lift your bum off of the bed, grinding yourself on his face with a burning desire for that sweet release, the one only he has been able to give you “that’s it sweetness, cum all over my face, cum for daddy” his low and raspy voice spurring you on and talking dirty sends you over that edge as you cum with a loud moan. Quicker than usual.

You try to push him off as you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars. All you can focus on is how sensitive you are but he’s cleaning you up with his tongue, clearly can’t get enough of how you taste.

“Always so sweet” he gets back up, moving you further up the bed and parting your legs as he hovers above you with his fingers making quick work to slip your panties to the side. The tip of his cock rests at your entrance as he dips his head to capture your lips with his tongue pushing past them and into your mouth to battle with your tongue.

You can taste yourself on him and that alone arouses you leading you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso “i need you, now” you plead, urging him to give you what you want, which he does. He pushes in slowly at first, seating himself deep inside before really moving.

His pace gets going, rocking his hips back and forth, making sure to fill you up all the way as you claw at his back, your mouth hanging open in the perfect O shape “fuck, daddy it feels so good” you groan moving with him in his thrusts.

“Feel good baby?” he pants, resting his head in the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your weak spot “tell daddy how good it feels sweetness. Use your words” he growls and you lift his head up so you can kiss him, cupping his face with one hand “it feels incredible, please don’t stop”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wanna feel that pussy cream all over my cock. Give it to me sweetness” he licks his index and middle fingers before pressing them down on your clit hard, rubbing aggressively as his pace turns animalistic.

He’s ramming into you with such vigor, his breath fanning your shoulder and the noises he’s making are a far cry from just moaning. No he’s not moaning, he’s upset too or at least bothered by something.

“Can feel you squeezing me sweetness, you close?” he kisses your shoulder but this time he’s more gentle, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“Yes, oh my god i’m gonna cum. Please, keep going”

The two of you move more frantically. Desperately chasing a joint release.

Grunts, growls and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room, the sound bouncing off of the walls as you both near closer. That’s when you turn the tables around, kissing his neck this time, biting too.

“I’m gonna cum daddy”

“God i love you so much, cum with me”

3.2.1

And you’re legs are shaking in the air, his cock starts to twitch before he coats your walls with his hot seed.

“I love you too”

As he looks back into your eyes, you see it, the tears brimming and threatening to spill but he quickly kisses you, knowing full well that it’ll distract you but not this time. You pull back to look again but he only moves.

“You know i don’t think i was ever angry at you” he starts, standing up to retrieve the towel “it was him. Seeing him flirting with you only made me realise what i wanted” you get off of the bed now, approaching him “call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you” he rests his forehead to yours, his hands resting on your waist “you’re mine, plain and simple”

“You never were one to do things the easy way” the two of you laugh before he kisses you “the easy way is boring”

Although you’re shocked about his confession, you daren’t pry more right now on his feelings. For now you just want to enjoy this moment. The two of you feel the same and that’s enough for you.

-----------------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @whxre4cevans

LMK if you wanna be added to my tag list.

147 notes · View notes

frederickthegreat · 4 years ago

Text

my thoughts on TUA season 2

(spoilers, obviously)

- opened with Klaus and Ben, my kings. Klaus’s hair looks so weird straightened while short

- AWESOME opening soundtrack

- seeing all their powers so controlled makes me wonder how they leveled up to that skill in the alternate timeline. like the only time we saw Klaus use the powers of other ghosts in the correct timeline was when two of them caught him falling out of the sky. however Diego did end up controlling bullets and Allison used her voice to technically kill one of the Swedes

- the homeless man screaming Allison’s name alongside Luther... funny shit

- big teddy bear Hazel

- Elliot was fucking awesome i think he was a great addition as a side character. rip tho :(

- honestly i don’t understand why Diego would WANT to save JFK. like it’s not that big of a deal. does he not understand what messing with the timeline can do??

- Lila... impeccable

- Sissy and Vanya... impeccable <3

- yeah and fuck u Carl

- ugh, Klaus’s beard. disgusting <3

- Ben and Klaus definitely act like they should be, given that they’ve been stuck with each other for over a decade. i’ve seen some people calling Klaus an asshole for not telling his siblings about Ben, which is completely understandable (cause he was an asshole), but I’m guessing it was because he was afraid? that sharing Ben with his siblings would mean that he would lose him to them, or his siblings would find him selfish, or they would ask something of him that he couldn’t give. if that makes sense

- that ghost bitch comment was funny tho

- to the guy who called Klaus pretty boy at the bar: sir you don’t know what you’re getting into

- Raymond!! he’s such a sweetheart, i really liked him in the show. i’m really happy that Allison has found a bit of normalcy (as normal as the 1960s Civil Rights movement could be). it shows how passionate she is about what she believes in: even though she knows the movement is far from over, even back in 2019, she’s not gonna abandon it

- Allison staring at the moon every night: either thinking about Luther or how the moon blows them all up. maybe both

- of course Luther would be working for Jack Ruby

- awesome cinematography during the mental asylum escape

- yeah it makes sense that the Handler would still be alive. she was a cool villain. although it would’ve been awesome to see how evil a fish could be

- Diego’s plan was pretty stupid. that’s my boy

- honestly they revealed how Klaus started a cult really well by having one of his followers find him at jail. Klaus, ever the musical aficionado, of course writes his scripture based off of pop songs

- Raymond and Klaus meeting!! that was cool to see how their paths connected

- Lila painting Elliot’s toenails green. ugh i love that crazy bitch

- i LOVE how they incorporated the umbrella man!! tbh i’ve always believed he was the one behind the assassination. Lee Harvey Oswald was framed

- honestly a bit understandable that Luther was planning on killing Vanya? cause he had no idea who she is now, but them reuniting was actually really sweet. he’s grown up so much

- the Swedes and their cats.

- the Umbrella company building with the nuclear family mannequins... creepy, awesome shit

- baby pogo baby pogo baby pogo baby pogo

- shanked diego shanked diego shanked diego shanked diego

- did anyone else get vibes from Klaus’s episode opening that he was an escort to the old woman? like how he was being shown off at her arm or something and getting out of jail from a call from the governor. idk maybe the lady was just very taken with him, as anyone would be

- Elliot, our helpful king

- Allison and Klaus’s reunion was so sweet!! i’m so glad they got to interact so much more in this season

- Ben getting Raymond out through a haunting... hilarious

- sweet intimate moment between Lila and Diego

- Ray meeting Luther was hilarious, but i do feel for the poor guy. i mean i’m not in love with my adoptive sister but still

- the sit-in was really well done and beautiful while terrible. the ‘riot’ that ensued was very appropriate for today’s setting

- D-Dave

- honestly i was scared that Klaus was gonna be overly attracted to him or whatever, which would be weird cause he’s years younger than Klaus, but honestly, at the core he just wanted to save Dave’s life. even if it means never meeting him in a different timeline. he truly loved Dave. and that ptsd flashback was done so well

- i knew Lila wasn’t trustworthy but i didn’t REALLY expect that!

- Vanya and Luther talking with each other, Luther admitting the apocalypse wasn’t all her fault. beautiful

- the Majestic 12 reminds me of the conspiracy theory that only a few families control basically everything in the world. the Majestic 12 may be based off of that, idk

- idk about everyone else but Klaus’s scorpion and the frog story made total sense to me! frogs ARE bitches

- the diner scene.... ugh. it really shows that the two of them did fall in love and they did stupid in love things, like talking about their family, about why Dave wanted to join, favorite colors, favorite foods, etc. however that’s seen later on when Dave visits the compound

- yes it’s very disheartening when Klaus is attacked, but honestly i think it had to happen, just like the riot had to happen. the 60s weren’t a fun time for lgbt people and poc. it was only going to be a matter of time before the show HAD to acknowledge the consequences of Klaus’s ‘flamboyancy’ in 1963 Texas. it doesn’t make it right or easy to see, but it’s realistic.

- it also makes sense that Klaus fell off the wagon after experiencing something like that. yes we all would’ve liked him to stay sober, but sobriety and recovery aren’t linear.

- Allison is so happy with Ray can we please drop this pseudo-incest plotline let’s MOVE ON

- Texas Grace ! who is not actually Grace rip (i think? i was a bit confused lol)

- the scene with Harlan running off was really upsetting but we got to see those weird light particles that we saw in the first season

- Pogo Pogo Pogo Pogo

- Klaus being a dick to Ben again, as brothers do. i do feel bad for Ben though it must be sooo frustrating. that scene with him and Allison was really sweet and funny tho

- i just have to say that Luther and Diego are so fucking funny this season it’s awesome. like there are a LOT of good lines overall by everyone but they’re hilarious. “At least he didn’t shank my ass” “no bro, he shanked your heart”“Dads part of a sinister CABAL that’s plotting on killing the president.” “a caBAL?”“You two still a thing? *leans in* do we need to talk?” “No, she’s married.” “Woah dude... that’s rough.” and countless others

- the sibling reunion!!

- Klaus really does get left out of everything tbh

- Ben :(

- sisters and Klaus!! that was so awesome to see. and Klaus’s hairpins, Vanya saying she’s gonna tell Sissy she loves her, their dance sequence, Klaus calling Allison out on that incest. beautiful

- the fucking Swedish cover of Hello was PERFECT i mean i was sad for the Swedes but it was hilarious. there were a couple beautiful shots of the boat on fire though

- god it must’ve been so traumatizing for Allison to be thrust into such a hostile place with no voice and no way to contact her family

- idk about you guys but long live Team Zero

- calling Ben that he was becoming their father was a bit uncalled for

- the fact that Klaus didn’t help Dave’s chances, and in fact escalated Dave’s own timeline.. his trembling hands... robert sheehan is an amazing actor

- the Black president bit lmaoo loved it

- the way Reginald spoke to Diego.. i’m gonna throw hands with an old man

- Klaus LITERALLY looked like he was having a seizure and they all just... played it off??

- poor, poor Carl. nah fuck him lol

- that bloody opening scene was awesome! and thank god Five got to say fuck. the fact that it was about a candy bar makes too much sense

- Robert Sheehan acting as Ben: amazing showstopping spectacular he’s so talented

- the whole multiple Fives and Luther bit was honestly really funny, and i immensely respect smaller Five over bigger Five.

- yes Klaus, you survived a family of seven. you got this

- not sad about Carl dying one bit!

- Ben... that was such a beautiful scene. not just the content of the scene, but the cinematography. Ben fading away... Vanya hugging him... ugh. the main takeaway i had from that scene is that at the core of it all, Ben and Klaus love each other immensely. they have a weird, dysfunctional, fucked up relationship, where Klaus is an asshole and Ben definitely shouldn’t of possessed him without his consent, but they’re still brothers, and Ben forgives him.

- oof Ben’s funeral was hard. also was it just me or did Klaus’s kid actor sound weird? like it sounded like Robert was dubbing his lines

- all the siblings back together again!!!! Klaus going with Vanya to save Harlan!! Vanya telling him Ben forgives him and that it wasn’t Klaus’s fault Ben got stuck with him!! everyone in the car!!! be still my beating heart

- yeah didn’t see Lila having powers coming tbh. i really feel bad for her she’s had such a rough and traumatic life, especially with the Handler as her only parental figure

- the Swede brother and Five putting down their weapons: “enough.” the Swede wanted revenge for his brothers - an eye for an eye, but there was a mutual understanding between the two of them: they would do anything for their family. if the Swede hurts one of the Hargreeves, Five would never stop coming after him. i thought it was very beautiful

- mmm Reggie’s foreshadowing coming into play. proud of u Five

- the ending was so beautiful. everyone got closure in some type of way. except now Klaus is alone with nothing but his dog tags :(

- EMO BEN HAHAHA WTFFF?? is Lila in the sparrow academy? why was Ben’s portrait over the mantle piece? did Five disappear?? is the sparrow academy just older versions of the siblings who stuck around?? so many questions

FINAL THOUGHTS

- Ellen Page’s acting consistently blows me away. she is amazing

- beautiful cinematography, funny writing, pretty good acting. i didn’t like the soundtrack as much as i did the first season’s, but some of it wasn’t bad.

- i’m glad ben got peace, but i’m also glad justin min isn’t gone for good. his social media presence is too vital for us

- i swear to god if they keep treating klaus as a joke and don’t let him get any actual development like everyone else had (he barely got closure with Dave, he reconciled with Ben through a second party) next season, i’m gonna riot. PLEASE i want to learn more about his powers now that Ben is gone. what happened to seeing tons of ghosts when he’s sober??

- Luther and Diego were probably my favorite duo of the season, I’m so happy that they’ve reconciled and are bonding more.

- just seeing Vanya grow and be happy was amazing

all in all, really wonderful season. i probably liked it better than the first one. now it’s time to consume fanfiction and maybe finish my own (check out “god doesn’t want him and neither does the devil” on ao3!)

#the umbrella academy #tua spoilers #tua season 2 spoilers #the umbrella academy season 2 spoilers #the umbrella academy season 2 #tua season 2 #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreeves #raymond chestnut #dave katz #diego hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

458 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 2 years ago

Text

Yes, I do know that feeling...which is probably why I sat on this truly wonderful comment for a couple weeks.

I've come back and reread it a bunch of times because, holy shit, does it feel great to have someone really get what you've worked hard to do.

In reality/canon, Ransom is probably a full-blown, unredeemable asshole, but I've always had sympathy for the actual experience of how characters developed that way. His parents are hands-off, emotionally distant, and downright cruel in their indifference. They expect loyalty for nothing and are privileged to the Nth degree. Of course, Ransom would never escape learning all those behaviors, and it would take a significant amount of time and immersion to have him see there's a different way to act.

That's where Reader comes in, and Ran thinks he knows. He thinks he can read people because he can read people like him. He's not exposed to people unlike him because wealth is practically a closed system. It breeds the same type of people over and over again. Reader has to be a hybrid, basically, and that's what I always thought of Harlan as.

Harlan came from nothing (sorta) but kept his connection to 'average folk,' he fostered relationships with Marta and his staff, and he kept a respectful understanding of what money changes in others. Harlan sees that Ransom is capable but lazy. He doesn't try because he doesn't have to, and so like a muscle that's never used, Ran's weak this way.

He gets tired and frustrated with you, but it feels good to challenge himself. It's like a runner's high. He's accomplishing something. He has this amorphous, ambiguous goal of getting you--of understanding you.

He gets there, and that would be enough except for canon gave me the perfect opportunity to make that fucker walk on land after only swimming the ocean floor his whole life. Damnit, it was fun, too. Ran's such a little whiny shit even when he's up for the challenge...

Absolutely, Reader says 'yes,' but I don't know about Lil'Hughs. I'd never thought about it. I obviously think way too much about this, so I'll have to get back to you on that one. Just know that I'm probably forever changed by your lovely words because, ya know, after building this shit up in my mind for six months and then painstakingly molding 32,000 words around the idea, I was really hoping it made fucking sense to someone. And it did! So yay \o/

oh my god i think i inadvertently convinced myself this is happening...

The Root Of All Ransom (Finale)

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see series or previous)

Summary: Ransom figures out how to undo his disinheritance.

Warnings for language (I'm never kidding about how many f-bombs this boy drops), smut (blowjob, p in v sex that is consensually unprotected, general smuttery), vague contemplations of murder but we ain't going the canon route. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist. This is not your story!

I have somehow managed to put Ransom Drysdale deep in his feels. This is only OOC if you haven't read up to this point, but we do end on a soft!Ransom note. WC 6954 (oh my fucking wat???)

Ransom huffs out a foggy breath in the night air, cold in more ways than one. All the windows glow from the mansion, yet it looks completely different in light of what Harlan’s done.

Thrombey Manor is his birthright. He doesn’t love the architecture or the eccentric layout. He hates the furniture. He’s never really enjoyed anything about the place. It’s the polar opposite of his own house, but it was his in a way, part of his status, part of his baseline of existence. He’s not prepared for any other eventuality. Ransom built his life on a perfectly stable bridge that some idiot just blew up with C4.

No, no, not some idiot. His own family. The only member of his family he would think could never do this to him. Fuck Harlan.

Ran’s been flying high on a lie, and the magic money carpet’s been ripped away.

He has one lifeline, one option he’s grasping onto.

If he can manage this, nothing will change. He won’t lose the allowance. He won’t lose you. You’ll never know how unworthy he is. He can just have everything and never speak of this again.

Harlan. Marta. Inheritance. Killing two birds with one liquid stone.

Ran could do it. He will do it, but you cannot know. He can’t have you around. He has to push, to start giving you a safe distance, to leave you plausible deniability. If you suspect, you’ll leave him anyway.

If he succeeds, worst case? He’s rich and alone. If he does nothing? He’ll be poor and alone.

One of those scenarios used to be acceptable, but not now, not anymore.

Pushing you away tonight might be the last time you ever look at him without pity, and he’s not ready for how heavy that sits in his roiling gut. He has to though. He has to make you leave, if only for the rest of the night—but it might be forever, his brain reminds him. Fucker. It’s not like Ran’s pleasant to be around. Getting away from him shouldn’t be a hard sell.

When you emerge from the house, however, what he hoped would sound sharp and dismissive sounds oddly open-ended.

“You could just walk from here,” he tries wishfully.

True to form, beautiful, pissed-off you sidesteps his expectations.

You take his coat, your coat, and the Birkin to the passenger’s side with a ferocious look.

“Get in the car,” you manage through tight lips.

Fuck. He misses you already. He hasn’t given up. He won’t, but his center of gravity is gone. He’s reeling from this.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale revolves around money.

His whole life he has stretched wide and greedy limbs to capture numbered, green rays of meaning. He hasn’t only lost the light of his sun now. No. Nuclear winter has just stripped him bare and knocked him on his ass. Ran cannot articulate all the reasons he’s so upset.

He values you and him together for relatively selfish reasons. From all he’s seen, you don’t need any more people in your life that exist so far below you. You don’t need ‘help.’ You need an equal, a free and independent equal. Ran isn’t even fucking close anymore.

With a stroke of a pen, he’s now dependent. It’s pathetic. If he stays without even the means to be your not-quite-equal, then he’s everything he hates. He’ll be clingy. He’ll be needy. He’ll be in the way. He’ll finally do it; he will annoy you.

He will bore you.

What a fucking world.

You snap him out of his dashboard stare.

“Do you want to talk about it now or at home?”

“Neither,” he quips easily. “I’ll drop you at the Carlyle’s.”

His eye twitches at his faux pas. You don’t have to correct him. He knows it’s your place, your name, your property, and your right to claim. He doesn’t need reminding.

His key twists in the ignition just as your hand comes up to his shoulder.

He can’t even glare at you properly because a tap rings off his window pane. Both of you jump in alarm because night fell hours ago. Who sneaks up on a car in the fucking dark?

Ran’s father is fucking who. Of course. The window peels down, and Ransom feels as if the last seconds of his life are draining away after the plug’s been pulled.

“Trouble in paradise, you two?” Dick asks with cheeky concern.

“No, Mister Drysdale,” you say politely, no hint of insincerity in your smile.

“Richard, please, honey. You’re practically family.”

Smug asshole, do NOT call her ‘honey.’

“Eat shit,” Ransom mutters overly loud again, but your sudden slow grip on his kneecap tells him to behave. Ol’ Dick has no right to call you ‘honey’ though. Ran’s not even sure what he’s allowed to call you, and he’s pissed, sure. He’s…something else, too; he’s obedient beneath your hand.

Richard ignores Ran’s attitude. “Listen, son, I just wanted you to know that whatever happens, your mother and I will always love you. In case…ya know, in case you ever doubted, and…well, we’re family. We stick together.” He even gives Ran a squeeze on the shoulder for emphasis.

Ransom has no fucking clue what his father intends with that entirely useless statement but doesn’t fucking care. “You know what?” He’s about to lunge out the window to choke that fucking prick. “Definitely eat shit.”

Your grip tightens, and Ran’s insides clench, knowing he toes a line.

“We should really go,” you add with a now painful, strained civility.

“Okay, you crazy kids,” Richard pats his heavy hand on the door frame. “Thanks for coming to the party and we’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course, Richard.”

Ransom rolls the window back up without looking at you. That sure as shit was not his father’s reaction to Harlan throwing millions at Marta fucking Candelabra. He can’t be near these people anymore, so Ran slams his foot on the gas, peeling out of the driveway, and scattering gravel in his wake.

Your sigh releases with the pressure on his knee. “I suspect it’s about his affair.”

As if that narrows it down. “Which one?”

“The first one as far as your grandpa knows,” you snort, “which hopefully Linda buys too from the way you’ve talked about it. Jesus, really? Slow down!”

Ran doesn’t want to slow down. The car is finally catching up to his racing thoughts and a plan coalescing. If Harlan knows about Richard’s affair, then his mother will absolutely divorce him, leaving Dick with nothing—and if you know that Harlan knows about it then—

“Hugh—” the hand has slid from his knee to his crotch, the heel of your palm gently digging into the stiff fabric of his jeans “—we should have taken care of you before…”

Fuck, that feels good.

You’re right, of course. Ran really should have planned a few minutes of privacy for you both to get off after the airport. Not that it’d have to be private for him (parking lot, terminal, or tarmac—he wouldn’t fucking care), but the thought flashes in his mind like the bright spots behind his eyelids that he might not get to fuck you again. That’s profoundly upsetting, and your grip on the outline of his swelling cock is profoundly distracting.

He swats at your arm, blood rushing to his tension-white knuckles only for a second, but you simply swivel in the seat to change hands, dragging down his zipper.

“Sweetheart“ slips out. Is he allowed to say that anymore? He should still act normal, right? Except he’s been a raging mess for a quarter-hour already and oh fuck. “What are you…”

Ran’s been wrong this whole time: you are a road head bitch.

He’s so taken aback by your spit-slicked lips cooly brushing the head of him that he nearly elbows your spine. The car swerves slightly as he strains to collect himself, to think of just one other thing instead of your fucking tongue sliding down his length to tease at his still-covered balls and—

Mother of fucking mercy, he has to pull over.

Only by some miracle, some blessed (or horrible) gap in his distraction, is he able to consciously choose parking off the lane just beyond the menagerie elephant statue because, otherwise, that pervy-ass groundskeeper could relive his long-forgotten past of grainy porn. Because that’s what this is turning into. Pornographic is the only way to describe the choked grunt Ran finally lets out as he slams on the brake and you snap the car into park just to get the gear shift out of your way.

“I’m only here three days,” you say around a mouthful of cock, bobbing a few more times before switching to your hand. “I’m not letting you ruin it by being fucking baby.”

“I’m not—fuck—“ he’s not expecting you to climb over him in the cramped car “—you don’t understand.”

“So you don’t want me right now?”

He shakes his head furiously, half in hope of collecting genuine thought, half in desperation for you to continue.

Space is so limited between Ran’s body and the steering column that your bent knees pin his arms to the door and the console. It should hurt but fuck if he’s gonna say anything while he watches you peel your panties to the side and line yourself up.

“Gah, you just—“ he pants as his heart rate spikes. Instead of putting him in you, Ran’s paralyzed to stop two of your fingers from sinking into your soaked pussy. You’re drooling for him, mouth and cunt, and goddamn, he is so torn between pounding you into next week or tossing you out of the car to get on with his plan.

It’s about an 80/20 split in favor of fucking you.

And then he thinks…yeah, he could definitely get off and get you to the Carlyle’s—your place—in time to sneak back. So he just lets go, shoving his face forward to capture your lips, enjoying the wet sounds as you prep for him, and eating up your moans and curses. He knows you’re purposefully dragging your knuckles against his dick as you bring them out with each stroke. Why are you so fucking hot? Why can’t he just have this without Harlan’s help?

He’s dependent.

Ran realizes he always was, but he fucking hates it.

Removing your fingers makes the bunched-up dress pool over your hips and graze his raging erection. Great, now your spit and his precum are smeared all over your clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him. Normally, that would be even hotter. Now, Ran wonders how much that damn thing costs because he never even looked; he just knew it suited you.

A steady grip at his base and suddenly Ran can’t wonder about any fucking thing under the sun. Your walls welcome him inch by inch like he’s goddamn worthy of that silky squeeze, but he can’t say shit. All he can manage is craning his neck forward to mouth over your nearest breast, arms still pinned. Fuck it. More fluids on the dress. If you don’t care, he doesn’t care. Maybe. Maybe he’ll just care later. Maybe he’ll learn to look at the cost of things. Maybe he won’t have to when he succeeds at fixing this dumpster fire of a situation.

His teeth graze against a barely felt but hard-peaked nipple, and you gasp out another moan. You have to shift to wedge your leg down by his side and repeat with the other one. One of his forearms is tingling, asleep, so he switches his mouth around and uses the functioning arm to play.

You’re moving so slow, too slow.

“You fucking love to mess with me,” Ran growls, all but biting through the layers before yanking at the neckline, savoring the plush skin he exposes. “Love fucking me,” he mutters again.

“Yeah, baby, why do you think that is?” You use the name so condescendingly and roll your hips so deliberately that Ransom bites back a ‘fuck you,’ instead forcing out a strangled whine. You just drag yourself up and down until he answers, pushing his t-shirt and an errant tail of his cardigan out of the way. Your fingers gently scratch the flat plain of his abs.

“Say it.”

He knows the answer. He’s known for a while, but that’s not something Ran’s ever gonna be ready for. It’s just already the truth.

It’s as soft as a hum against your skin.

“Say it, Hugh. Tell me why.”

He can tell by how you’re getting sloppier with your movement, by how hard you grind forward against him, that you’re close.

“Because you love me.” Ran winces at how desperate he sounds. It’s almost a cry, but he can’t really resist repeating it. “You love me.”

Your hands bury in his hair, and he’s literally covered in you while trapped in this fucking steam room of a car. He can’t control anything he’s doing.

“You love me,” he says again.

“Yes.”

“You love me.”

“Fuck, yes, baby.”

You’re fluttering around his cock like a dream, shouting encouragement, and it just slips out.

“I love you.”

He has no idea if you even hear him because you come so hard that your back bends, slamming you against the steering wheel.

The horn blares in the quiet woods.

You wait for him to yank you forward and erupt into sated giggles while Ran is a whole different kind of paralyzed, hiding his face in your chest for as long as you’re simmering without care.

Your fingers card through sweaty hair, your heartbeat slowing more than his does.

“Think you need this,” you say in a breathy whisper. You pull away to cradle his face.

He’s terrified you’re gonna ask. You’re gonna want him to say it again, he thinks, and Ran’s not sure he can with your eyes boring into his, knowing what he knows, being what he is until the will is void.

“I want you to come, Hugh.” Your thumb traces across his bottom lip, gaze following before it flickers back up.

You sound so fucking innocent while your slick is smeared all over his low belly and seeping through his underwear. His boxers are kinda in the way but kinda immovable while in such cramped quarters. Pushed aside, they hinder only as much as your bunched-up panties do. Easy enough to live with.

You keep staring expectantly.

“Do you want me to stop—“ fuck NO “—or will you give me what I want?”

Ran’s whole chest clenches, and it’s only because he slams his mouth to yours that you can’t see his eyes roll in fucking ecstasy. Perfect. You’re goddamn perfect. He couldn’t deny you anything much less this, and he knows that if this is the last time, he has to take advantage.

Sliding down slightly on the seat (because everything operates in centimeters at most this close), he takes two giant handfuls of your ass and spreads you, lifting so he can thrust his hips up at a brutal pace. He doesn’t fucking care if his knees bang against unyielding metal. He doesn’t care that a vein in his neck might snap from strain. He just needs this one thing, and then he’ll let it go. He’ll be ready for whatever outcome Harlan’s death triggers.

Because Ransom needs money. He had money long before he had you. It’s what he needs the most in life. He loves money.

If losing you is what it takes to keep the money…

That’s the thought he can’t finish as control of the urge to come slips from his bruising fingers. His desire for his status quo is faltering. His equilibrium’s changed.

He does love money. He does.

Now, to Ran's surprise, he loves you, and he has no fucking clue how to love both. He doesn’t know if he can keep both.

But friction is friction. He’s surrounded by the feel and sound and smell of sex. It’s familiar and more than a little haunting to him if this is the last time, but Ran crests that mountain before any coherent thoughts form. He can’t trust himself to speak. He might repeat what he never should have said aloud.

The groan when he empties himself inside you is almost pained, swallowed immediately by your adoring and hungry kiss. He’s sweat straight through his t-shirt and his jeans are a fucking mess. Your dress is damp, stained, and wrinkled. You’re practically bonded to the leather seat, but he just absently runs the back of his fingers up and down your thighs while he comes down.

When you release his mouth, your arms settle across his shoulders, and he buries his face in your chest again, hiding, relishing, stalling.

Shit, he’s gonna miss this.

After a minute, you rest your forehead against his and lift your hips until his limp dick slides out of you. Through half-closed eyes Ran watches you bite your bottom lip, gnaw on it like he wants to, like he moves to—

“Is this about the will?”

Ran freezes.

“Did—Harlan told you, didn’t he?”

“WHAT THE SHIT.” Ran’s rage explodes, heaving you off of him and into the passenger’s seat. “YOU FUCKING KNEW?!”

He shoves himself back in his pants and scrambles for the damn zipper.

“Ransom, it’s fine. He just—“

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you warn me? Jesus FUCK.” He’s unlatched and kicked the door open before you even get a word out.

“Harlan is my friend and—“

But he slams it shut, leaving your words muffled while Ran fumes in damp fucking clothes in the frigid air.

His fists almost—almost—pound on the hood of his car as he bites out, “I could have killed him.”

Ran’s pacing toward the tree line when you finally shuffle from the beamer, pulling your dress back into place.

“Harlan’s my friend and he asked me in confidence if it made sense.”

“I’m sorry, he asked you? As in, my grandfather might not have done this if you hadn’t thrown me under the bus.”

“It wasn’t just about you.”

“It makes sense to leave me destitute? And you knew! You lying bitch,” he growls, immediately wishing the word hadn’t popped out, clawing at his scalp in a punishing attempt to think. “You watched me throw all that fucking money away and didn’t think I deserved to know?!“

“I’ve met you. Why would you listen to me about how to spend your money? That isn’t something you do, Ransom.”

“That’s not the point!” And stop calling me fucking ‘Ransom.’ “I can handle myself.”

“Then I guess your answer is ‘that’s how you spent the money,’ by choice.”

“I wasn’t given a choice. You lied to me. You’re the one who didn’t trust me.”

Your stalk forward in the dry leaves, stopping just outside of arm’s length away. “What the hell did I just say in there, huh? I love you. I said I love you, then you go and call me a bitch, so who’s the liar between us, huh? Who’s got trust issues?”

Ran’s face scrunches in distain. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Guess,” you spit back easily.

Well, he isn’t fucking saying it now. Fuck you. Fuck this. This is the worst-case scenario: poor and alone because if you know, he can never get away with his plan.

“Why do you always do that?” he growls with a venom that poisons no one but himself. “Why the fuck are you here then?” Why are you with him?

“I’m here to support my piece of shit boyfriend at a piece of shit family event because Hugh asked me to.”

Nope. The right name is wrong. It sounds much worse than he expected.

Ran doesn’t know what to do with all this sick energy churning in his gut except burn through it. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with his life.

“There it is. There’s the truth,” he yells, leaning into your face. “I know it. You know it. This isn’t going to work. We’re not the fucking same. We’re not even close—“

“I don’t want someone the same as me.”

“I’m a useless—”

“Ran.” Your hands fly to gently land on his face.

“—talentless—“

“Seriously, please.”

“—sack of shit and you—“

“HUGH!” The grip at his jaw slips as he jerks back.

Ran tenses, shoving his chilled fingers into his jean pockets, pushing the wet material in front away from his crotch. He goes awkwardly quiet.

Yelling. He remembers the yelling. He’s been comfortable with yelling for longer than he’s been comfortable with affection.

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” You cross your arms over you chest and shiver. “This. This bullshit is why I didn’t tell you, but so what? You don’t have your own money. How do you think Harlan and I started out?”

He gives a look that shouts back everything he can’t put into words.

“You’re not useless or talentless. You’re entitled. That’s all, and you can change that state of being pretty fucking easily.”

“How? What am I supposed to do? Be a houseboy who eats you out once a week?”

“A week? Well, I hope I pay better than that.”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he grouches.

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that. “You started these jokes!”

“You don’t have to rub it in—”

“—just rub it out, huh?”

He doesn’t want to laugh. It’s not funny. His fate isn’t a laughing matter, but like everything else tonight, he fucking fails. A smile twitches at his lips.

“Ok, asshole, you want to be useful? How ‘bout driving us home? I’m freezing.”

He starts to protest but is cut off by a flinging arm.

“If you don’t get in this damn car, you will be helping me balance to pee in those woods.”

“Fucking gross,” Ran whines.

“Yeah, well, your ability to self-access is appalling too,” you jovially clap back, “but we’re working with what we’ve got.”

Fair.

Savage but fair.

He frowns and follows you into the car.

You talk his ear off on the way to his house, but he isn’t in the least bit annoyed. He’s engrossed. It’s all a type of flattery Ransom can hardly fathom: honest praise.

“I was miserably alone before you.”

He wouldn’t have pegged that based on how he saw you at all those events, but now that he considers how you’ve opened up about your frustrations and the exhaustion of being the center of attention, it makes sense. Ransom takes attention away from you. He loves that shit. He doesn’t even care if it’s negative attention. Hide behind his broad back and shine that spotlight on him; he’s game.

“You know what people you pay to be around you—people who want something from you don’t do? Argue. No one has a real conversation. No one has an opinion contradictory to yours. No one calls you out on your shit. It’s so…”

“Boring,” he whispers without thinking.

There’s a long pause until you continue softly.

“No one calls me out on my shit except you, only you.“

Your hand finds his. Though your skin is cold, he’s warmed by the touch.

“So no, I don’t think my money will change anything. If money—mine or yours—were going to change you, it would have done it by now. I mean, sure, you could stand to be less of a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to. I already…”

Your voice trails off, and Ran knows. That’s just it. You love him and he’s a dick, the poor asshole who understands what the feeling is, the one who can’t say it, not on purpose, not yet. The tectonic shift in his life’s framework leaves him uneasy. As wonderful as you are, as perfect as this has been, he has to start over.

He has to build himself up from scratch. He’s been transplanted to an alien planet that he doesn’t have the means to make hospitable. Money was his means to everything. Money provided for him. Money protected him. Money separated him from others.

He never had space for two in his now-demolished castle of selfishness.

“I thought I’d be with someone so different from you,” you laugh without heart. “I’m…glad I was wrong.”

All he can manage is a squeeze of your hand.

“But Hugh, you’re proud of my success, not fucking threatened by it. You let me work, but you also know when I need a break and won’t take one. You’re devoted without being smothering because you have your own damn life, things you want to do. You aren’t intimidated by all this shit in my stupid world or the money. You don’t give a fuck what other people say.”

That’s true.

“You make me laugh,” you say quietly, and though he can’t see your face in the dark of the road leading to his neighborhood, he hears your smile. “You asshole.”

As he turns into the driveway, he glances over and winks. “I try my best, sweetheart.”

He watches that throwaway statement melt you, and then he realizes why.

Ransom trying to do absolutely fucking anything is a big fucking deal, and he has tried. He simply has no idea where to go from here.

He turns off the beamer and makes no move to get out.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Your hand releases his to glide up his arm and lace through his hair, lightly rubbing the base of his neck. “Help me,” you breathe.

“How the fuck would I help you?”

“Hugh,” you cock your head to the side, retracting both arms to brush your palms down the fabric of your (ruined) skirt, “you know damn well you’d like to control my whole wardrobe. You would do far better dressing me for all those functions than I do…and undressing me.”

He knows what you’re doing, but instead of smiling or laughing, he tightens his jaw and huffs. “Can I burn some of your—“ he does half air-quotes “—'wardrobe?'”

It’s so hideous. That one black dress you keep fucking wearing? No amount of dry cleaning will make that look new again. That’s getting flambéed.

You purse your lips. “Donate, but yes. I would consider that a huge help.”

“You’re serious.” Ran’s not sure whether he means it as a question or a statement.

“Yes. I am. Thank you for noticing.” You swivel to open the door. “Now, you can also help get my bag in while I use the restroom.”

The dance of readying for bed becomes you pointing out things you have now that you did not have before him. Taste being one of them, Ran thinks to himself. The important thing is he could say that to your face, but he’s strategically not pushing his luck tonight.

It’s true. Nearly every article of clothing and every toiletry now links back to his insistence that you have nice things that are for you, not just for life in general. You come before the rest of the world; you come before your work. That’s his gift. That’s what he’s good at, and you make it clear: you need him for that talent.

All of these nice things, all these reasons he seems good to you, and all this need for him have Ran feeling some sorta way when you crawl into his bed naked and reach to turn off the light.

He grabs your hand before you make it to the switch, forcing it back to the mattress, keeping you facedown. His heated breath and heavy body roll over you, teeth grazing your shoulder and moving slowly to your earlobe.

“You know what else I’m good for?”

His free hand slips between your thighs and finds what slick you couldn’t clean up. The knowledge that some of it is his cum still inside you makes Ran shudder. How would he ever have lived without this?

You sigh, your mouth falling open at the intrusion, and your eyelids flutter closed.

“Fuck,” you moan, high and quiet.

“That’s right, baby,” he hisses, mimicking your condescension from the car. Oh yeah, he’s gonna ruin more than that goddamn dress tonight.

He takes time to torture you with his fingers, his weight rendering you immobile. Ran sweeps falling hair out of your face with free reign to pepper open-mouthed kisses across the stretch of skin he’s claimed since that very first fuck.

You always knew what you wanted. He never thought you’d truly want him, certainly not for more than a day. After tonight, it’s inconceivable you want him still, yet here you are, burying your face in the sheets to muffle little cries as he humps your ass cheek to get harder and harder.

Good god, why do you want him? He fucked around, he yelled at you, he called you horrible names, he left you for weeks at a time in a foreign country alone, and yet you are here.

Then your words spring to mind. He argues with you. He has opinions. He makes you laugh. He treats you like the independent person you are. He treats you like your money doesn’t matter.

Because it didn’t to him.

Ransom realizes now that you treat him as if his money didn’t matter because it doesn’t to you. Nothing changed when you knew he wouldn’t have it anymore. Not a single thing. Somewhere over the last months, Harlan told you his plan, and the only perceptible difference to Ran was you falling in love with him.

Because you love him. He is so grateful he’s almost angry. You could do better. He can give you better.

By the time you come on Ran’s fingers, he’s completely feral thinking about all those little ways you showed your feelings, all the ways you showed him kind touch is not weakness. You also showed him that touch doesn’t have to be weak to be kind. He can be rough with his feelings for you, intense as they are. He can sink his cock into you, practically screaming that he loves you, too, but the words aren’t spoken.

He presses a thick forearm across your back to keep you pinned. He spreads his legs to widen yours. He thrusts in possessive and messy movements. No words escape. His range of motion is limited this way, but he gets all of your glorious noises. They’ve become his favorite sleep track. It’s hard for him to rest without hearing your happy, panicked pleasure beforehand.

You make desperate fists in the sheets and arch your ass up higher. He sees the unnatural strain in your body, all for him, all so he can have just that fucking tiny bit more of you.

He can’t stay in this position forever though. You’ll never come again like this, and he wants to see your face. The car was dark, but the lamp is still on. He can watch you fall apart with him deep inside.

“Turn,” he orders, enjoying how dazed and shaky you are as you struggle to control your muscles.

You’re a sight. Erratic breaths hardly settle your gasps. Pliable and ruined. Torn to whimpering pieces and stitched back together only to be split apart again.

He drinks in his handiwork, climbing slowly between your legs, delicately helping to cross your heels at his ass, and sinking back into your heat slowly, so slowly, like your teasing in the car.

“Hugh,” you mutter, and fuck, he has never heard you beg.

Ransom has always loved sex, but this is different. He meets your glazed eyes with floundering blue depths and wonders why he can’t just enjoy it as basic sex anymore.

He’s always loved money, too, and although he doesn’t want to take it from you, Ran feels the weight of your charity. Money was his sun, his whole world, but it was not enough. You provide more, warmth that lets him spread out in contentment, light that keeps him from withering.

Money doesn’t need his love; it’s indifferent.

You, on the other hand, you are fucking radiant, glowing and hot with his arm tucked beneath your shoulders to grab at your hairline. He makes you look at him. Your fingernails scratch at his back while your hips grind together.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles, nose almost touching yours. “Come on, sweetheart—“ Ran drops to lave kisses down your bared throat “—one more for me.”

This time, you have no words, only grunting uh and hng as he speeds up. Your noises get higher. Ran gets rougher, a brutal rhythm for a brutal realization.

He can’t hold back when he sees you like this; he’s gonna say it.

He gets close, so very close to breaking, but you fall first.

“Please—ah.”

You fucking writhe beneath him, your whole body spasming like your silky pussy ripples over the sensitive skin of his cock.

“That’s it,” he coos in your ear. “That’s right. Good girl.”

He has to chance meeting your eyes because he wants to see you unravel again. Ran always does whatever he wants.

He slows his hips to intermittent thrusts that sizzle your nerves over and over, pulling his arm out from under you to lift your chin. You’re open for him in every sense of the word, and he is fucked in every possible way.

He’s an amoeba of a man staring evolution in the face.

You’re his. It’s clear in the light that he owns you. He’s earned you, or at least, he’s trying to. That’s a big deal for Ransom Drysdale.

Quivering, your mouth hanging open, his thumb rolling over your swollen bottom lip, he gets one word.

“Daddy.”

Barely a whisper, partly a question, but mostly an invitation. He slides his thumb up into your mouth, only letting you suck on it for a moment before it drags out.

Ran never thought you’d ever say that. He never imagined you’d beg either. You’ve always known what you want and taken it. You have never needed anything from him.

“Please,” you say again, holding your mouth wider still.

Shit. He throbs at the prospect, and he’s too far gone to deny you this. He plants one small peck on your jaw before pulling out and clambering over your hips and chest.

“Ah fuck,” he moans when you suck on one of his balls, stroking him with a smooth and firm grip. “Love y—love your mouth…so much.”

Ran leans against his headboard, hand clamped over his trap in a desperate attempt not to blabber, but you continue. You’re in tune with when he’s ready, when you’ve taken the teasing far enough and he needs to come. His hips stutter to shove himself just a little farther down your throat. He collects his wits only enough not to choke you, muffling a cry.

You’re gentle with him as he loses his absolute shit trying to keep it together, thighs shaking, breath hindered, biting the fuck out of his hand.

“Sorry, I…” he tries.

“I…I—“ he tries again.

He just can’t fucking do it.

Ran digs his palms so hard into his eyes he sees stars. His chest is tight like it’ll explode any second. The relief of orgasm has evaporated instantly, and he just really fucking can’t.

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, shifting up onto your kneels behind him, “it’s okay.” Your warm arms encircle his chest, over one shoulder and under the other, and you pull his own pliable and ruined body toward you.

He collapses back on his heels, leaning against you.

“Hugh, it’s alright.” Your whisper makes his eyes sting. “I know.”

Ran raises his arms to hold your wrists. His head drops to kiss the back of your hand. He still stays silent.

“I know…”

Your bare legs stretch across his lap, and Ransom lets the hand warmed by his mug grasp your ankle gently. You’re off in your own mind, staring out the window of his living room, worrying your bottom lip. He watches while you don’t notice.

Ran never particularly liked the unknown, and after Harlan’s shit last night, he’s off surprises for a fucking lifetime. This, however, this with you, sitting in comfortable quiet, makes him feel perfectly at ease with an unsure future.

For someone so fascinating to him, you’re so normal.

Sure, you’re beauty trumps the view outside, you’re dedicated to your work, and you’re smart enough to run circles around anyone, but…

You’re just you, sitting with a hot drink on his couch in the morning, wearing one of his sweaters again. Could be a sixty-dollar sweater from a thrift shop—or six cents for all Ran knows about secondhand sales—or the six-hundred-dollar one that he stoopidly bought three weeks ago; it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing that matters to him now is who wears it. That garment means nothing without you in it.

You sip at your tea, and he follows, staring at you staring at the world.

You two spoke more about it last night in the dark about everything but that one little phrase that’s eating him alive, a tangled mess of yourselves and the sheets. Nothing has to change except where the money comes from. Ran gets what he’s wanted all along: control over your wardrobe and, essentially, your entire presentation to that world you’re staring out into. He is not, however, permitted to burn your favorite Little Black Dress, but for fuck’s sake he’ll get all of its seams checked and the damn thing refitted. He’s hoping if he makes enough fuss, you’ll choose to toss it just to shut him up.

Fucking rules. Ran hates rules. If you kept standards on par with your New Money maybe he’d follow your rules. He’ll get you in the good stuff: the good house with good furniture, the good clothing with good lingerie beneath, right down to the good wash and lotion.

You can keep your perfume. He likes your perfume.

Yes, he’ll get you into what he wants, when he wants, where he wants, and all that implies. Ransom always gets what he wants…because you let him.

It’s remarkable what you let him fucking do, too.

He slides his hand from your ankle to your knee, knocking you out of your reverie just in time for his phone to buzz.

He holds your legs to him while sneaking a glance at the screen. Linda. Fuck no, he’s not answering that. It’s not Sunday and he’s not ditching anything. Fucking wait. Fucking choke for all he cares.

Ran instead sets his nearly empty mug down beside your two phones on the coffee table and curls up in your corner of couch. You open your arms to tuck him into your chest, and sure, it’s cutesy and gross in a way that should make Ran want to gag, but who fucking cares when he’s this comfortable. He plants a kiss right on your nipple through the knit for fun, feeling you shiver, then listens to your heart.

His phone vibrates again, dancing closer to the stoneware he just put down.

His mother’s persistence is as admirable as it is annoying. Predictably, Ran’s bored by her usual shit and ignores it again.

Instead of pushing up his sweater to wrap an arm around your waist though, he shoves his now chilly fingers between your hot thighs and sighs. His ear rings with the airy sound of your laugh through flesh.

Then your phone dings, and he just fucking knows it’s her. His groaned protest goes unheeded as you swap your mug for the device and bring it to you.

Ran snorts, and you smooth your free hand over his hair.

“Hello—“ there are harsh but restrained mumbles but he can’t make out the words “—Linda, why on Earth would I be with a man the night he yelled at me like that?”

Because you love him, Ran thinks, but he hears garbled disappointment from the other end.

“And after how your brother and his wife acted—” more rushed excuses “—I don’t have time to go around looking for your adult baby. I have work to do and a plane to catch.” There’s obvious desperation in Linda’s tone, but you don’t care. “Goodbye.”

You let your phone drop to the rug, carding fingers through his hair before finishing with little scratches. Your nonchalance is still pure honesty. You wouldn’t waste time on him, not if you didn’t want him, and you did not let him speak to you that way for more than three sentences because you knew exactly how to shut him up.

“Vicious little bitch,” you mutter.

And…in all your perfect, honest, niceness, you called his mother a bitch—not to her face but you’ll get there, Ran’s sure.

He fucking loves you. He is really so fucking in love with you that it’s fucking gross. He’s disgusted and doesn’t fucking care.

After a big sigh, your hand finds his between your legs and moves it to cup your sex. “Where were we?”

Ransom shifts up over you at the same time as you slide beneath him on the buttery leather cushions. His wildly true and blue eyes meet yours with stern sincerity.

He’s looking at everything he ever wanted, and it’s not money. There are all sorts of things he can use to survive, loads of things he can replace, an infinite amount to take, but only one you, only one complete package. Not a thing. Not replaceable. Finite. Earned. New. Fascinating. Teasing. Messy. Sexy. A total hardass badass with a great ass.

Ran lays his hand heavier on that thin layer of silk, possession laced in the caress, and the words just flow right out.

“Marry me.”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

Oh my god, gang, I can't believe I fucking did it. Truly, this fic has been one of the craziest things I've ever attempted, and honestly, I'm so damn proud. I'm proud that I wrote it, I'm proud that it's over, and I'm proud of whatever reception it gets. I murdered my soul for this and am delighted. Thank you all so much for reading!

[Main Masterlist]

#ro reblogs the love #and it was the best love #thank you for reading and sharing

499 notes · View notes

rachaelswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Investigation

Part Two

Ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader

“Hey Mr. Benoit! There’s footprints here,”

Benoit quickly made his way over to you, crouching next to you. “Those are indeed prints. Good job Y/n. Stay off the path. We don’t want to mess them up,”

You stood up and jumped over the path to the other side. Before the other two detectives could look and the prints, the dogs ran through the open gate. They ran right through the path, ruining the prints for sure. They ran back through when your grandparent’s car pulled into the driveway.

“Elliot, Wagner, they have plans to read the will at ten,” Benoit said. Both detectives nodded and made their way towards the house. You and Benoit decided to look around some more.

You reached the back of the house near the trellis. One of the dogs ran up to Benoit with a piece of wood. The dog dropped it at his feet. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was a broken piece from the trellis. He looked up, “Y/n, where does that window lead to,” he asked, pointing to the trick window at the top of the trellis.

“It’s a trick window. It leads to the hallway to Harlan’s room and office,”

Benoit took off quickly and you followed. He went in through the back door. He passed Wagner and Elliot the two followed him up the stairs, “Y/n, show me where it leads. Take off your shoes and stay off the carpet,”

You did as you were told and set your shoes by Benoit. You walked on the wooden floor next to the carpet. When you reached the door, you pulled it open, revealing the window from outside. “Well I’ll be,” Benoit breathed. He followed your path and looked at the carpet. “Look here Y/n. You see that?”

You crouched down and looked at the carpet, “Yeah. Doesn’t that just mean the carpet hasn’t been cleaned in a while?” You asked.

“Yes but, I bet this mud here,” he pointed to the carpet, “will match the mud from there,” he pointed at the window still, “And the trellis,”

You got up and looked at the window, “so someone climbed up here to get to Harlan?”

“Exactly. Someone did not want to be seen so they climbed the trellis to get to Harlan. Let’s go in his office really quick,”

You stepped in his office and watched Benoit look around. You stayed by the window to let him do his work. He picked up the go-board and set it on the table, “Didn't Marta say her and Harlan knocked it over?” You asked. Benoit had filled you in on the rest of the family’s statements.

“Yes she did,” he knocked the board to the floor, the way Marta said. The board didn’t make a sound loud enough to wake up Joni. Before you could say anything, a car pulled up in the driveway and a door slammed shut. You heard the dogs barking and looked out the window. It was your dad. He was putting his scarf on while trying to stop the dogs from jumping.

“That’s my dad,” you said pointing out the window, “I know you guys have been trying to talk to him,”

Benoit headed downstairs and you followed. You met Elliot and Wagner downstairs. They seem pissed and frustrated. Probably because of Ransom.

Ransom appeared out of the kitchen, eating a pack of cookies.

“Mr. Drysdale?” Benoit asked.

“CSI, KFC?” He said jokingly. He walked past the detectives. When he saw you he put his hand on your shoulder and started to walk with you to the family room.

“Hey dad,” you said.

“Hey sweetheart. Surprised you aren’t flashing a badge by now,”

You rolled your eyes at him. You reached the family room and Ransom sat down on one of the chairs. You stood behind him,resting your arms on the back of it.

“Hey Frannie, how about a cold glass of milk?” Ransom said.

“Uh asshole. Not her name, not her job,” Meg responded, entering the room.

“Oh hey Meg. How’s the SJW degree coming?”

She rolled her eyes and sat down. Your dad turned to you and held up the pack of cookies for you to take. You shook your head.

“So you don’t show up for the funeral but you show up early for the will reading,” Walt said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Richard asked.

Walt went on a long rant about how Jacob overheard the fight with Harlan and your dad. There was a bit of arguing before Jacob finally managed to explain what he heard. “I was in the bathroom,”

“Joylessly masturbating to pictures of dead deer,” you mumbled under your breath. You thought only your dad could hear you but Richard, who was standing next to you heard and laughed. Walt must’ve heard as well.

“You wanna go skippy?” He stood up and went after Richard. Apparently he was more upset at Richard’s reaction than your joke.

The two brother-in-laws had to be pried off of each other.

Ransom laughed, “We gotta do this more often,”

There was an awkwards silence while everybody composed themselves. You zoned out while Walt went on another long rant. He did this quite often and it was never of any interest to you. The thing that peeked your interest again was your grandmother’s voice, “Ransom. Did Harlan tell you he was cutting you and Y/n out of the will?”

Your dad looked around at the family. His eyes landed on you last, “Yup,” he said popping the P.

You looked at him in disbelief. Why would Harlan leave you out? Harlan wanted to make sure you got out of the family and did your own thing. You were also shocked Ransom didn’t tell you. How could he keep something like that a secret from you. You stormed out of the room, brushing past Benoit.

Benoit knew how close you were and he felt bad, so he followed you, making sure you were ok.

Ransom mentally kicked himself. He should’ve told you sooner. He would have to talk to you later. There’s no way you were going to talk to him anytime soon. Right now, he’d have to deal with the verbal abuse from the rest of the family.

You sat down on one of the benches on the back porch. You put your head in your hands and tried to hold in your tears. You felt betrayed by the only two people in this family you could trust. Benoit sat down on the chair across from you.

“I’m guessing your father didn’t tell you about the will?”

“Of course he didn’t,” you looked up from your hands, “Why would I have expected him to. He says I should trust him but he does stuff like this. I don’t get it,” you stood up and started pacing, your anger was now boiling over, “I mean, he tells me all the time he doesn’t want me to be like him but he lies to me! How am I not supposed to be like him? If I’m surrounded by deception my whole life I’m statistically more prone to that type of behavior. There’s so many studies on environmental and social impacts on development,”

Benoit listened intently to your rant. His heart broke for you. He didn’t want to see you sucked into the lifestyle of the rest of the family. Before he could console you, Elliot motioned for you two to come back in for the will reading.

“Well I’m sure he had his reasons but we should head in for the readin’,”

You nodded and followed him back into the house.

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale daughter #ransom drysdale x teen!reader #ransom drysdale x daughter!reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out #knives out fanfic #investigation

123 notes · View notes

longitudinalwaveme · 3 years ago

Text

Longitudinalwaveme Reviews Some More Old Comics (and One New One), Part 3

Batman #353, “Last Laugh”

The Joker walks into his hideout at the abandoned Tatch Hotel, where his goons are gambling. He promptly kills one of them by snakebite for disrespecting him.

Batman scares a corrupt city council member into revealing that the doctored photos that “revealed” Batman as a crime boss came from real crime boss Rupert Thorne. Apparently, Thorne ensured that Reeves would lose the election...meaning that he wanted Hamilton Hill to be mayor for some reason.

Also, Gordon is currently not the Commissioner---someone named Commissioner Pauling is, and Batman suspects both he and the new mayor are corrupt.

The next day, as Bruce Wayne, he accompanies Vicki Vale to the destruction of Gotham Central Station. Apparently, Vicki was witness to an interaction between Rupert Thorne and Morton Monroe that culminated in the latter’s suicide.

The computer being used to manage the explosions that will preserve the landmark while still clearing space for new development malfunctions has been stolen...by the Joker!

Because Batman and the new police commissioner are on the outs, Batman hadn’t known about the Joker’s escape from Arkham, and he’s not happy about that. He does, however, quickly work out that the Joker has bought some land in the Palisades under the pseudonym of Mr. Harlan Quinn. (No...seriously!)

Batman heads to the location in question...only to be caught off-guard by the Joker, who shoots a drugged arrow at him. When he wakes up, he’s tied to some rocks and surrounded by dynamite.

Joker is upset that Gotham is constructing a statue for a Broadway star and not for him, so he’s going to use the dynamite and the computer he stole to create a monument of himself (and kill Batman).

Batman manages to break free and jams the computer signal by way of a device he brought with him for that purpose.

The story is then interrupted for a weird He-Man comic! Hi there, He-Man, Teela, Man-at-Arms, Battle Cat, Sorceress, Mer-man, Beast Man, and Skeletor! And, uh, Superman, too, I guess! Why not?

I can honestly say I did not expect this Batman comic to contain a Superman/Masters of the Universe crossover where Superman fought Skeletor.

And now back to Batman, who’s fighting Joker’s goons. While this is going on, the Joker shoots at Batman while his back is turned-only for the explosions to go off. It temporarily creates Joker’s memorial of himself, but it lasts for only a few seconds before collapsing. The issue ends with Joker frowning and Batman smiling in a really unsettling manner.

The issue also has a backup story, starring Robin and Batman, the latter of whom is undercover as Matches Malone. They work together to defeat some con-men, and Dick uses an inflatable suit to dress up as Batman. It’s pretty amusing.

Batman #355, “Never Scratch a Cat”

Why does Catwoman own what appears to be a pet panther?

Apparently, she’s not happy abut the fact that Vicky Vale is also romantically interested in Bruce Wayne. We then cut to the latter two on a date.

Their date is suddenly interrupted when Catwoman uses her car to send their car off a cliff and into a river. She immediately regrets it and dives into the water after them to save them.

Bruce fights her off and makes it to the surface with Vicki himself. Two days later, she wakes up in the hospital.

The police have been staking out Selina’s house, but so far, there hasn’t been any sign of her.

That night, Batman leaves to track down Catwoman, telling Dick not to come with him as Robin. They have a fairly heartwarming conversation, and then Batman zooms off, leaving Dick and Alfred worried about how angry he seems.

Batman breaks into Selina’s house...and is promptly attacked by her pet panther. They fight, and he defeats the panther. He then discovers that Selina hasn’t been home for at least 2 days.

Batman looks through her bills and discovers that she’s rented an apartment somewhere.

Ex-Commissioner Gordon talks politics with Mayor Hamilton Hill. There’s a petition to remove the latter from his position, since he’s connected to Thorne and Thorne was arrested for murdering his own appointee for police commissioner. Also, Hill makes him commissioner again.

Batman tracks Catwoman to her new apartment and the two fight, verbally and physically. Eventually, though, they make up and hug each other. It’s kind of weird, but I guess it works.

Flash #324, “The Slayer and the Slain”

The Reverse-Flash is dead! But the real horror of this issue isn’t that he’s dead or that he died attempting to murder Fiona Webb...it’s the fact that this issue will kick off the Trial of the Flash arc; otherwise known as the Arc That Never Ends!

Some really weird nurse tells a baby the story of her favorite soap opera...only to lose her grip on the carriage, which goes hurtling towards a pane of glass! Kid Flash manages to save the baby, but not the glass.

Kid Flash then rushes to what he believes will be the wedding of his uncle to Fiona Webb, changing into a tuxedo along the way.

Unfortunately, when Wally arrives at the church, there’s no sign of Barry. Dexter Miles, Barry’s friend Mack Nathan, Mack’s son Troy, and Ralph Dibney, the Elongated Man, are at the church, though, as are Barry’s parents and Fiona herself.

Before Barry’s first name was Bartholomew, it was Barrence. No, seriously.

Fiona is naturally very upset, believing Barry stood her up at the alter. Henry Allen is less than sympathetic. “Nora and I aren’t ready to give up on our boy just yet, Fiona. And if you really love him...you’re not about to either!” Way to guilt-trip her, Henry. No wonder Barry got along better with Roscoe-pretending-to-be-you than he did with you.

Barry and the Reverse-Flash have a fight/race around the world, Eobard yelling about how mad he is about Barry trapping him at the end of time for four years.

Officer Frye and Frank Curtis are also at the wedding.

Apparently the Guardians of the Universe stopped Wally from helping Barry fight Eobard for some reason. Okay...

Eobard, being Eobard, makes a giant ice sculpture of Iris in the Himalayas just so he can troll Barry. Then they fight some more as all the wedding guests wonder where the bridegroom is.

While the two are fighting/racing, Eobard creates a big wave at Miami Beach, which Barry has to stop to rescue some swimmers from.

Captain Frye is starting to believe that Barry’s been murdered.

Eobard and Barry end up in Cape Carneval and take a rocket into outer space. After they return to Earth, Eobard taunts Barry by writing “Guess who’s going to kill your wife again” in the sand. This naturally makes Barry very, very unhappy.

Equally unhappy is Fiona, who is now completely convinced she’s been stood up and is leaving the church.

The wedding photographer pops up over thirty-five minutes after the wedding is supposed to start; conveniently already filming with his camera.

Eobard runs towards Fiona, murder on his mind...only for Barry to grab him from behind by the neck as he shouts “NO! Not again!”

Barry tries to comfort Fiona to no avail as Frye discovers that Eobard is dead.

And on that grim note, the issue ends.

Batman #362, “When Riddled By the Riddler...”

Why was Riddler working at a winery? Is it just because one of the processes involved in making wine is called riddling it? Whatever the reason, the appearance of a film crew at the winery apparently gives Riddler an idea for his next crime spree.

Batman is summoned to police headquarters, where Harvey Bullock is arguing with Commissoner Gordon. Apparently, Bullock’s working with Mayor Hill, and the Riddler has been sending Gordon puzzle boxes.

This puzzle box prompts Bullock to ask about the Riddler, which in turn prompts Gordon to tell Bullock and the reader about the Riddler’s M.O. and backstory.

When he finishes the story, Batman finally arrives and kicks Bullock out. He and Gordon proceed to try to solve Riddler’s latest riddle as Bullock eavesdrops on them both from outside the door. The riddle seems to point in the direction of the Mother Goose Amusement Park, but Batman tells Gordon to keep thinking of other possible meanings just in case.

Bullock plans to outwit Gordon, Batman, and the Riddler, showing an impressive degree of self-confidence (or self-delusion).

Batman goes to the park and is promptly ambushed by a machine-gun wielding Riddler.

Then they fight, Riddler escapes, and Batman learns that the amusement park has been closed all season, so it would have no money around to steal.

Gordon, Bullock, and Batman reconvene to do some Bat Deducting in order to figure out the Riddler’s real plan. Because Batman’s true superpower is his ability to understand the insane ways in which the Riddler uses riddles to plot his crimes.

Apparently, Riddler is going to steal the loot of a game show being filmed in Paradise Theater. The show in question is called “Enigma”, which is a terrible name for a show filmed in Gotham. It’s beggining the Riddler to show up.

The Riddler actually wears a suit in this issue! That’s unusual for Riddler at this point, and it looks really good. Of course, he immediately takes it off a few panels later, but still.

Apparently, the game show consists of getting contestants to answer riddles and...seriously, who decided it was a good idea to film this in Gotham?

Then the Riddler pops himself out of the riddle drum used in the game show. It’s hilarious. He steals the money and walks out the door, gloating.

Batman then appears and starts chasing Riddler, who hijacks a bus. Batman follows him and uses gas to force the bus to stop.

Then Batman literally kicks him off the bus and captures him.

The issue ends with Bullock deciding to drop the charges he’s managed to get raised against Gordon (after Gordon uses a riddle to threaten him). Hill is not happy about this.

Batman #373, “The Frequency of Fear”

The issue opens with Jason Todd having a freaky nightmare about his parents’ deaths (since this is pre-Crisis, the deaths happened at the hands of Killer Croc).

A really stupid psychologist wants to meet Jonathan Crane so that he can analyze the effects of fear on the human mind. Unfortunately for him, Crane has been released from Arkham, because everyone in Gotham is stupid. Even the stupid psychologist thinks so!

Meanwhile, a couple of people at Gotham University wonder if they really did see the Scarecrow heading for the old Marston House where Crane once lived.

Julia Pennyworth, Alfred’s daughter, asks Vicki Vale for a position at Picture News (is this different than the Picture News where Iris West-Allen works?) Vicki is opposed to the idea until Julia insists she’s not interested in Bruce Wayne.

Apparently, in an earlier issue a number of Batman’s Rogues dragged Scarecrow around while he was mostly incapacitated by fear. He’s not happy about the fact that they did this and is plotting revenge against all of them.

A guard at the courthouse demands to know why he’s there. In response, Scarecrow uses a skull to emit his fear frequency, and the guard predictably starts hallucinating. He then continues to use the frequency to get the location of the lock-up. He’s then lead the the solitary cell of the Joker.....and then Batman shows up.

Scarecrow proceeds to use the fear frequency on both him and on Robin, when the latter shows up. Batman manages to fight off the worst of it, but when Jason chases the Scarecrow out of the building and onto the rope Scarecrow was using to escape, the frequency overcomes him, he loses his balance, and he starts falling.

Batman manages to rescue him, though.

On an unrelated note, Child Services are worried about the fact that Jason keeps falling asleep in class.

Gordon and Bullock go out for dinner and have a little chat; Mayor Hill hires a hit out on Bullock.

Meanwhile, Batman tells Crane’s backstory to Robin, who suggests that Crane might be hanging out at his old house. Batman dismisses this, which is unfortunate, since Crane is, in fact, hanging out there.

Crane is reading his psychology textbook to his little skull head. The man is really weird. I’ll also note that his textbook does actually contain a few words I’m not familiar with, which is impressive.

Crane then determines that he’ll have to get rid of Batman first if he wants to kill off all the other villains, and goes out to do just that.

Commissioner Gordon calls in Batman and Robin and tells them that the Scarecrow is attacking a zoo. Batman tells Robin to go home; he thinks the case is too dangerous for Jason.

Batman goes to the zoo, and is increasingly affected by fear. When he reaches the crocodile pit, the fear is so overwhelming that he loses his balance and starts to fall in.

Meanwhile, Jason has disobeyed orders and gone to Crane’s old house. The Scarecrow promptly attacks him as Batman falls into the crocodile exhibit....and the issue ends on a cliffhanger. Ooof.

Flash 2021 Annual

SPOILERS!

Man, Wally West makes the weirdest faces in this confessional.

Barry, Ollie, and Mr. Terrific talk technobabble.

Good news! It turns out Wally’s not a murderer anymore! HURRAH!

Roy is alive again! YAY!

Barry and Ollie are also making weird faces.

Ollie really wants to save Roy from the speed force explosion that will kill everybody at Sanctuary, but Barry says there’s nothing they can do. Ollie doesn’t like this explanation.

Also, Barry’s powers suddenly start fading.

Wally makes another weird face as he and Roy talk.

Hey, Savitar’s back! And looking a lot more attractive than the last time I saw him.

Turns out that he’s been causing all the weird problems with the Speed Force in this arc. It’s appropriate for him, I think.

Roy and Wally team up to fight Savitar, who goes on a villainous monologue about how he’s going to eat the speed force so he can become it.

There’s some more technobabble about the Speed Force. Apparently, if they don’t cause the explosion that kills everyone at Sanctuary, Savitar’s plan to eat the Speed Force will destroy the Omniverse.

Roy ends up setting up the necessary explosion to save the Omniverse. Good work, Roy!

Aww, Roy and all the heroes are dead again....:(

Oh, well. At least Wally still isn’t a murderer now.

Wally and Savitar arrive in the present, Wally decides to continue being the Flash, he and Savitar have a fight/race, Wally wins, and Savitar disappears.

After Wally takes a nap, he and Barry have a cute talk, and Barry gives poor Ollie, who’s been through a lot, a hug.

Wally goes home and reunites with his family. HURRAH!!!!

Heat Wave’s going to be in the next arc. It’ll be interesting to see how that goes.

#flash comics #batman comics #dc comics

12 notes · View notes

biggirllifestyle · 4 years ago

Text

Ducks in the pond.

Summary: Being friends from the beginning does get its perks, but it's also such a heartbreaking scene when you’re a background character or so you think.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x OFC(Original Female Character)

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Small cursing, this got away from me so sorry.

A/N: I found my next victim Chris Evan characters, I’ll do better I swear.

Being surrounded by the elite is not something many can say they have experienced especially if it’s something you have been doing since a very young age when you were not even part of that social group. My mother did not come from a wealthy background, she didn’t come to the country with any knowledge of the language and without a penny in her pocket but thanks to a faithful day where she had met Harlan, he had offered a helping hand for my mother and from there on she became his lived in housekeeper.

The first time I ever met Ransom I couldn’t say that I wasn't tempted to punch him in the face, we were children when we met and everything that came out of his mouth was rude and condescending. Ransom was older than I and I knew he was Harlan's favorite and least favorite grandson, he was a rude snotty kid who used to pull on Megs and I’s pigtails every time he could get away with it.

I didn't know when it started but at some point, Ransom began to follow me around never leaving my side, I think it began the day that I finally gave in to my urges and punched his perfectly handsome face. My mom was mortified when she found out what I had done, Ransom's mother Linda was pissed and had demanded her father to fire my mother as a repercussion for what I had done but instead, he laughed and I had to apologize begrudgingly to him and from then on I had my shadow. That was how it was for the next few years, him following me around until we became inseparable, we were still coming from polar opposite sides of the societal spectrum even if he never treated me any differently from his rich friends.

While he was out partying with his private school friends I was working part-time jobs and doing homework to pay off my tuition, Harlan had offered many times to pay off school as a thank you to my mother's service through the years but I never accepted feeling guilt at his kind offer. There were times when my friendship with Ransom was tested as his rich dick persona would come out and he would sometimes disrespect my lack of social standings when he would hang out with his friends, I always hated that side of ransom because I knew that the words that he said were partially true, we were from different backgrounds his way of living was different from mine where I was dressed from thrift stores and low-grade shopping centers he was dressed to Gucci and Balenciaga but that didn’t seem to matter to him.

The only times that any of those comments bothered me was when it came from Ransom's weekly conquest, they were all beautiful women who seemed to have walked out of a photoshoot they were all thin and beautiful women who just oozed money from their pores if they even had pores since all of them seemed to be flawless. I always wondered what it was that I did for Ransom to be so faithful to our friendship never once did I have to compete with others because, in the end, he would always choose me this was also another reason why his conquest didn’t last long since their cruel remarks on my appearance and social standing was an ending point on the relationship, maybe it was the fact that I was always the one who saved him from doing something stupid like getting kicked out of his family or him ending up killing his grandfather.

Things changed when Ransom left for college he had gotten accepted to Princeton and off he went, our communication was limited since he was always so busy with school and me with my part-time jobs. I had forgone going to college to stay close to my mother and in the process, Harlan had offered me a small position in his publishing company which his son Walt was not too happy about. Everything was going well for me. I was living an adequate life. I had finally moved out and gotten my apartment, my work was going great and I had finally made some great friends. Ransom seemed to be doing well as he was passing all of his classes, he even became friends with his dorm mate, which he was forced to have if he wanted Linda and Richard to keep paying his tuition.

Everything was going well for both of us. Our friendship was thriving through the long-distance even if I was hiding a deep dark secret from him, the fact that I have been in love with him for a long time now. This has been a raging issue that I had been hiding for such a long time but I never thought of doing anything about it since most of the time I was fine with being his best friend, I relied this to Claire my friend from work after I hanged up on Ransom on our call of the week.

“That is the saddest and dumbest thing that I have ever heard,” Claire said as she sipped on her wine, “and I am saying this with a lot of love but if you don’t feel like it would work between you two maybe you should try to give yourself a chance with someone else.” I turned back towards her as I took out the popcorn from the microwave, she made a shrugging gesture before turning on the tv.

“I am just saying Eric from accounting seems to be interested in going out with you, and hey I haven’t heard anything shifty about him from anybody else.” She browsed through a few movies before finally choosing one. I sat next to her setting down the bowl of popcorn in front of us as we settled down, “I’m just saying we big girls deserve some love so if that means you having to go on a date with a guy just so you could be able to get over your childhood friend, then so be it.”

I couldn’t help but think over what Claire said and I knew she wasn't wrong but a small part of me still wished that maybe Ransom felt just a little of that love that I felt for him but I knew it was probably a far cry, so I gave Claire a nod agreeing for her to set me up with Eric she squealed before reaching for her phone as she started texting someone after a few moments she put her phone down and mine began to go with off, it was Eric I gave a panicked look to Claire who just shrugged I sighed before answering.

“Hi, Eric how can I help you?” I said acting dumb, Claire swatted at my arm but I hit her back focusing on Eric who seemed to be having a conversation of his own.

“Yeah I heard from someone that you wanted to go out, and well I just wanted to know if the upcoming Friday was good for you I know this great Italian place that just opened up we could go after work if that works for you,” I was about to respond but I felt my phone going off again I pulled it away seeing Ransoms name on the screen, I debated on answering before ignoring it and returning with Eric.

“Friday sounds great”

After hanging up with Eric, Claire and I continued our movie before she had to start heading home as soon as she was gone I began to tidy up, after ignoring Ransom's call I thought about my friendship with a man who looked for the very best for his life. At some point, I had silenced my phone in the chance that if Eric were to send me a text I could just use the excuse of not answering, and that is how I had left it as I went to sleep since tomorrow started our winter break so there was nothing I had to worry about so with that thought I went to bed.

When morning came I finally had the chance to finally take a break and just lay in bed, everything was silent no noise whatsoever just the random drive of cars on the street and that was it after a while I finally got myself ready to get out of bed reaching for my phone I noticed that Ransom had called me nine more times leaving enough text messages that I worried that something might have happened. Dialing his phone as I began to get ready just in the chance if I had to rush out at any moment to meet him after the second ring he finally answered.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all night do you know how worried I was,” Ransom said as he began to chastise me, I couldn’t believe he was doing this after we had talked before he started calling me liked a maniac I was about to tell him off and let him know that I didn’t think very highly of his little outburst before he stopped, “Now ducky this is what’s going to happen do you hear me your gonna finish getting ready, put your shoes on and come outside so we can go eat some breakfast do you hear me.”

I huffed out at him but did as he said as I finished getting ready, Ransom always did this ordered me around expecting me to follow his every whim without any form of repercussion from my part but I knew I would never really fight Ransom since all in all I was his only true friend. After finishing getting ready I rushed out of my apartment locking behind me before taking the stairs two at a time I soon as I got to the lobby I couldn’t help but take a small breath the small exertion from my actions after composing myself I walked out seeing Ransom's car, I couldn’t help the giddiness that came over me this would be the first time I would be seeing him after his no show for Thanksgiving so I was very excited to see him again as I got closer to his car ready to greet him excitedly I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t alone.

“Ducky it’s so good to see you I missed your pretty face,” Ransom said as he stepped forward to hug me but a hand stopped him from moving forward as I was left standing awkwardly from where I stepped forward to meet him, his companion stepped forward putting out a slender and manicured hand so I could shake.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Caroline, Ransom's girlfriend, you must be the friend.” The way she said the word friend made me flush entirely it sounded so mocking when it came from her but I ignored it as I gave her a small smile. Ransom was watching our interaction before clapping his hands together, “Right so let's be on our way then.”

He walked over to the driver's side as he got in Caroline opened the passenger door and motioned me to get in first, I couldn’t help but look at her with a questioning look, Ransom seemed to have caught on to what she was trying to do as he motioned towards Caroline, “Caroline maybe you should ride in the back that way I can also have time to catch up with Ducky.”

Caroline huffed and crossed her arms like a child, the words that came out of her mouth made me feel so shameful I wanted the floor to swallow me whole, “I think she can fit in the back if we push the seats all the way forward I mean I wouldn’t mind moving it since I don't take up much space.” Ransom was about to protest against her but I moved forward pushing the seat forward as much as I could so I could squeeze myself through.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it, this might be the only opportunity I might have to feel as if I’m being abducted or something,” I joked as I positioned myself into the tight space of the back, Caroline seemed smug by her win as she got into the passenger seat Ransom turned to look at me as I avoided his gaze as I looked down at my phone he turned back around as he started the car, the drive to the restaurant was quite from Ransom and I’s point Caroline was going off about some friends of her who were currently on a break or something of that sorts.

When we arrived at the dinner I couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm, this was Ransom’s and I’s regular place we used to go to back when we were in high school, I used to work part-time here and sometimes he visited me as I sneaked him fries when I could. Ransom looked back at me with a soft smile I couldn’t help but to return until I heard a scoff Caroline seemed to not like our choice of location and she seemed to want to protest but Ransom ignored it and got out coming to her side as she opened the door for her, that seemed to placate her as she took his hand to get out. I huffed out a little breath as I began the agonizing task of getting out of the car without making too much ruckus where I would be noticed, when I finally got out I noticed that Ransom and Caroline were waiting for me I flushed hard realizing that they saw my struggle but I gave them a small smile before walking in front of them into the dinner.

Louise was at the counter and the moment she saw me she couldn’t help but let out a shout of excitement she called to Adam who was at the grill in the back as they both came forward to greet me, they saw Ransom and the excitement grew they’ve known us for a very long time so of course, they were glad to see him as well. Louise gave us a small shove as we went to our usual seat which was a booth at the back, when I was young I was scared to go anywhere near the booths but the good thing was that the seats here were spacious so there was nothing to worry about, Ransom scooted in but Coraline seemed to hesitate to look disgusted before sitting down at the corner.

“So how’s school? Are you having any problems with your classes, any subject you might be struggling with?” I asked as I moved around the salt and pepper shake, Ransom laughed as he beat an with a tirade of his Lit professor who loved to throw existential questions into the lesson as if that would help them finish their assignments on time, I couldn’t help but laugh at his whining as our server finally came to our table. There seemed to be a small tension coming from Ransom and Caroline but I chose to ignore it as I moved my attention to our server, he seemed to be about our age, and from what I could see he was new since I could sense his small hesitancy as he took our orders, I gave him a small smile as I tried to give him some reassurance of what he was doing.

“Don’t worry about it you’re doing a great job let me tell you when I used to work here back in the day it was hard, to say the least so no pressure and just take it one step at a time,” Tom as his name tag said relaxed as he gave me a cute and flirty smile that made me blush as I sent him a small shy smile as he walked into the kitchen to put our orders in when I turned back to Ransom he seemed to have a frown on his face at our interaction I made a funny face at him as he rolled his eyes before returning to his tirade. Caroline seemed too quiet so I ignored Ransom as I tried to make conversation with her,

“Are you also at Princeton Caroline?” She gave me a look before turning her nose at me.

“Yes I am in school at the moment but it's not like it matters I’m just doing it to pass the time while I inherit the family business,” she said as she moved around the straw in her drink, I gave her a confused look at her words because I couldn’t understand what she meant by “passing the time,” she must have seen my confusion before she gave a huff before continuing, “Daddy is paying for my tuition so I can go but I don't do anything besides hanging out with my friends or taking trips, there’s no point for me to be going to classes if there is no point to it since I’m just going to inherit my family’s estate and wealth.”

I looked at her with a mildly disturbing face at her words, how I wished I had the opportunity she had to go to college but that option was never one to be considered since it was much too expensive to pay off and I didn’t want to accumulate debt when I was trying to help out my mother with her immigration situation so I said nothing, Caroline seemed to have caught on to my reaction because she gave me a scathing look for even looking at her in that way.

Before anything further could be said Ransom butted in to alleviate the tension that had just arisen between Coraline and me, “So Ducky how’s work Uncle Walt said that he was giving you your team to manage Grandad’s new book, how's that going for you?” I gave him a small smile as I began to tell him about the work that we have been doing and how I’ve been getting along well with everyone except an older editor who keeps trying to override my directions every time I make them to the team. Ransom nodded along at that moment Tom came back with our orders setting them up on the table before turning to me with a small smile, “Do you need anything else, anything I could do for you?” I smiled at him as I was about to respond Ransom butted in,

“No, we’re good.” I looked at Ransom with a pissed look at the rude tone he had used on Tom, he didn’t seem to care as he glared him down until he walked away. I was confused by Ransom's attitude I’ve never seen him act this rudely to people without a motive so his change of character made me wonder what was going on with him and if it had to do with the woman who was sitting right across from me poking at her food uninterested to us.

“So you remember Claire?” I asked him as I ignored his previous way of being with our server, Ransom seemed to be focused on his food so he hummed as confirmation, “Well we were talking last night and she set me up with one of our colleagues, and well now I have a date next Friday!” I said excitedly, Ransom began to choke on his food and I panicked as I started pushing his drink closer to him, Caroline had left just a while ago to the restroom and still hadn’t been back, after he had calmed down Ransom looked at me very differently almost as if he was mad at me for what I had said.

“Are you serious do you even know this guy, how could you put yourself in that situation you haven’t dated anyone ever and you think that going out with this guy is your best option,” he stopped himself his hands balled up into a fist on the table, I couldn't help the tears that welled up this was new to me Ransom had never spoken to me like this before never in such a way as if to shame me not when I decided to go to not go to college and not when I told him about my accident from high school.

“Are you that desperate? if you were you could have just told me and I would have shown you a pretty good time.” The shame and mortification that came over me at his words were so great I let a tear slip from my face, Ransom seemed to realize that his words were far too harsh because he reached out to grab my hand I flinched away from him not wanting him to touch me at all, “I want you to take me home, right now Ransom.” He seemed to hesitate before he clenched his jaw before scooting out of the booth he set a few bills on the table and began to walk out I sat there for a few minutes before finally walking after him Louise gave me a wave and I saw Tom give me a smile and a wave until I was out the door.

Ransom was sitting inside the car already waiting for me to go in, I didn’t see Caroline anywhere and I almost went back inside to go get her before Ransom spoke up again, “She already left her friends came and picked her up half an hour ago.” I nodded before getting into the passenger seat, on the drive back to my apartment everything was quiet, only the hum of the car providing sound. After a while we were finally there Ransom parked but didn’t turn off the engine we sat there quietly for a bit before I finally turned to him, “I’ll see you at the Lagoon okay, I think you and I need some time apart to think about what happened,” I paused as I looked away.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you and I want you to give me the chance to grow from those feelings so I feel like this is the best option for me,” I stepped out stopping before looking down at Ransom who was still so stock still, I knew that my words were probably still processing to him but there was no turning back I finally said what I needed to say and I was ready for everything that was coming, “Patito, I need you to understand that no matter what I would choose you over everybody else.” And with that, I shut the door.

My date with Eric had occurred and it was the worst thing I have ever been on, believing that maybe this could be my chance to grow out of my love for Ransom I looked at the bright side but Eric was the worst he was rude and snobby and made comments about my appearance making it seem like I had to give him a thank you for even looking my way and I hated it. Ransom and I hadn’t spoken to each other since the day we went out and I hadn’t been able to think about it, so that night after my date I cried letting out the pent up emotions I had thought about the fact that maybe me falling in love or being loved would be a notion that could never happen.

During my little outburst, I heard my phone going off and without looking I answered it, the other person on the line was quiet before I heard an outburst, “What the hell happen where are you?” I was confused for a second before realizing that it was Ransom on the line, “Did that son of a bitch do something to you tell me where you are before I go kill him.”

I gave a few hiccuped breaths before Ransom calmed down with the softest tone I have ever heard from him, “Look Ducky I just want to make sure if you’re okay? Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you there in a heartbeat.” With that tone I was able to calm myself down as I told him I was at home, he gave a confirmation telling me he would be here soon as he ordered me to drink a glass of water before he hanged up.

Fifteen minutes later and an empty glass I heard knocking at my door when I opened it Ransom dressed in some plain sweats and the sweater I had given him for Christmas last year no matter what he wore he always looked handsome and this time I couldn’t help the tears that dropped. Ransom crowded me as he began to wipe the tears from my face. Here I stood my hair and makeup a mess dressed in the nicest dress that I had as the person I loved wiped my tears off my face.

“Did he do anything to you Ducky? Tell me and I swear that I will find him and kill him with my bare hands if I have to.” I laughed at his words nut I gave him a shake of my head telling him that nothing had happened. Ransom seemed to let out a breath before he moved us to the couch, we sat there in complete silence as Ransom held me close after what seemed like hours even though it was probably minutes I finally calmed down enough that I had stopped crying altogether.

“I called you today because I knew you had your date with that guy, I was mad, at you, at me, at that prick, and at fucking Claire for setting you up,” he took a deep breath before sitting up and pulling me away from him so we could be facing each other, “I thought of your confession and I am sorry for not calling you sooner but there was so much on my mind I have to tell you.”

I looked up at Ransom seeing that he was being completely serious and I couldn’t help the pull in my chest at the way he looked in that moment how much he has grown from when we were young and how much more he could do in the future, “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time now but I haven’t been honest with you at all, I don’t want to be your friend anymore and I haven’t wanted us to be friends since high school after we went to different schools,” I pulled away completely when he said that the tears were coming back and I felt as I couldn't breathe anymore Ransom could probably see my upcoming panic attack, so he did something I never thought would happen. He kissed me.

He kissed me.

That was the only thought that was going through my mind as my brain short-circuited, I stared up at him surprised not believing he did that Ransom stood before he started pacing rubbing at his neck before turning towards me, “This is not how I wanted to do it so I feel like I am already messing up but,” he paused as he took a deep breath before he came before me and kneeled so we were at eye level, “I have been in love with you since we were kids I think from the moment you punched me in the face and Grandad forced us to hang out, but I think the moment I knew was when I saw you at the dinner you were talking to some customers and I remember how you reached towards their little girl as you wiped something off her face and made her laugh.”

He leaned towards me just a little until our faces were just inches apart, his eyes darted down to my lips as I wet them, “I knew that if I could I would do whatever it took to keep you at my side even if that meant us only being friends, but I am done being your friend.” With that, he surged forward kissing me much softer than I thought my lips tingled at the contact after a few seconds he darted his tongue to swipe onto my bottom lip as I parted them for him before he began to kiss me a little bit deeper. When he pulled away I couldn’t help but let out a whine he chuckled at I flushed hotly at his laugh giving him a soft smile,

“Ducky you’d don't know how long I’ve been waiting to do that, I love you so much.”

“I love you too Ransom I always have and no matter how annoying you are with your little designer clothes and your dumb car,” he gave an offended scoff which I giggled at, “but I will always love you no matter what.”

Tags: @rmtndew

#plus size ofc #pluss size #plus size oc #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombrey #original work #knives out

52 notes · View notes

shotsbyshae · 5 years ago

Text

In the Dark

Warnings: Language

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: You only thought Ransom was an asshole, wait until you meet his family. Sequel to My Oh My & Trouble

Song: In the Dark by Camila Cabello

Thank you @hysteria87 and @sagechanoafterdark for supporting me with this annoyingly lovable asshole.

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

I can see you’re scared of your emotions, I can see you’re hoping, you’re not hopeless.

“No.”

Your answer is quick, and Ransom flicks his eyes up at you over the top of his laptop screen, watching as you shake your head adamantly.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?” he questions, obviously annoyed by your quick response.

For the last two weeks your free time has been filled with his smug, arrogant ass. You’ve been fielding question after question on Steve’s life and maybe it’s selfish, but you just want a weekend to yourself.

You keep your attention on the towels your folding. They’re still warm – fresh from the dryer. “I – I have a date.”

“Since when?” he’s not convinced.

Glancing over you narrow your eyes at him before spotting your phone on the coffee table between the two of you. His gaze follows yours as you reach for the device, and he moves quickly, grabbing it before you do.

“What?” Ransom exclaims. “You going to swipe right on some random guy. Risk wasting your weekend on some asshole you don’t even know.” A sly smile crosses his face. “At least you know me.”

You glare at him for a moment, you’ve learned to never take anything at face value with Ransom, “What’s going on? Why even ask me? Don’t you have a little black book?”

There’s a sigh, his lips forming a thin line before he places your phone back on the table, “Granddad is the only one who knows what I’m doing, and I want to keep it that way. My parents are – difficult – to say the least.” He leans back in the chair and you can see a hint of anxiety there. “Granddad wants to meet you – the muse behind my idea. That’s what he calls you.”

You raise a curious eyebrow at him, “But if no one else knows what you’re doing, then who would your parents think I am?” He gives a half-smile and you shake your head again. “No.”

“It’s cliché, but –”

“Fuck no,” you reiterate. The thought of meeting Harlan Thrombey is one thing but having to pose as Ransom’s girlfriend is an entirely different story.

“Okay then,” he responds defeatedly before closing his laptop. “How about three?”

“Three what?”

“Three thousand.” A small snort of laughter escapes you, and Ransom smirks. “Did you just – snort?”

“My God,” you remark, standing up. “You don’t like being told no, do you?”

He tilts his head, the unimpressed look on his face is one you’ve seen before. Steve used to give you the same look when you’d question his authority or irk him in anyway. It’s a bit of a weakness for you and you hate yourself for it.

“Look it’s just one day,” Ransom says, absent-mindedly rubbing his earlobe between his thumb and forefinger – his tell. He’s really not wanting to go alone for some reason, which makes you curious. His voice is barely audible when he says the word, which is obviously foreign to him. “Please.”

You gather the towels with a sigh. “Make it five thousand.” A mischievous smile crosses your face. “And I’ll be your Julia Roberts – to an extent.”

There’s a boyish grin on his face as he nods in agreement, “Deal.”

***

The house is enormous, and you can’t help but feel in awe of it as you step out of the car. Adjusting the black skirt which you’d paired with tights and a wine-colored sweater, you can’t help but feel a little anxious about what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Approach it like a mission.

That’s the thought you keep you pushing through your mind. Hopefully like all weekends, this one will fly by and be over before you know it.

Ransom makes his way around the front of his car, offering his arm, “Shall we?” You glance from his arm to his face and roll your eyes dramatically before walking towards the house, leaving him standing by the car alone. “Well, this should be fun.” He mutters to himself as he strides quickly to catch up with you.

He opens the front door, and you step inside, the heels of your boots clicking audibly in the foyer. The house is warm – cozy – exactly as you expected it to be from the outside with it’s gothic décor. You begin to shrug off your coat, your back to the staircase in the corner when you hear the squeak of the wood from someone descending them.

“Your parents just called,” an older man’s voice states. “They’re running late.”

“With any luck I’ll miss them,” Ransom says dryly, taking your coat. You turn around with a smile as Ransom introduces the two of you.

“Well, a muse indeed,” Harlan says with a warm smile.

“It’s an honor to meet you Mr. Thrombey,” you say as he accepts the hand you offer him, kissing the top of your knuckles in a gentleman like fashion. “I’m a big fan or your work.”

Ransom cocks his head at you like a confused puppy, “Really?”

“Please,” he remarks. “Call me Harlan. Which is your favorite?”

“It’s a toss-up between The Needle Game and Drop in the Bucket,” you reply.

“You never told me that,” Ransom comments in confusion at your statement.

“And you never asked,” the response comes out a bit harsher than you intended.

He looks taken back with your statement, “Well – you want a drink? I need a drink.” Without waiting for your answer, he heads off into the library.

There’s a mischievous glint in the older man’s eyes as you glance back at him, “What?”

“It’s starting to make sense now,” Harlan comments, unable to contain his grin. “With a muse like you, I can understand why he’s spending all his time in New York.”

You fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t know what he told you, but we’re not –”

“I can tell,” the older man smirks.

***

“Five thousand huh?” Harlan questions as the two of you stand upstairs in his library, overlooking the banister to the rest of the library downstairs. “You took the money up front, right?”

“Of course, but I would have done it for the three,” you remark before turning the high ball glass of bourbon in your hand up. “Why did he want me to come?”

“Distraction I suppose. I mean – I love my daughter,” Harlan says with a sigh. “But she and Richard can be –” He trails off unsure of how to say it.

“Difficult,” you use the word Ransom used and the older man smiles.

“Exactly,” Harlan looks over the rail to see his grandson pouring himself another drink at the serving cart below.

‘You always have to be so difficult.’ Steve’s words echo through your mind and you say quietly, “So am I.”

“No my dear, you challenge him,” Harlan corrects you. “There’s a difference.”

The sound of the front door opening makes Ransom twist the top off the bottle and proceed to double up on the drink he just poured.

“Dad,” a woman’s voice calls out from the foyer.

“Showtime,” Harlan says as he lets you take another sip from your glass before he takes it from you. “Go, save him.”

You give a smile and a nod before you walk off.

“See, I told you,” Richard states to his wife as they walk into the library, seeing Ransom standing alone. “If it’s not a girl, what have you been up to in New York? Partying.”

“Hi Dad – Mom,” the man remarks before turning his glass up.

“What’s the excuse this time?” his father questions.

“Richard,” Linda begins to stop him.

“Did she have work? Does she even have a real job?” he says dismissively. “Or is she one of those – influencers?”

“I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” you state boldly from the bottom of the spiral staircase behind the pair. Listening to the man in front of you bullying his son irritates you something fierce. “You might have heard of them.”

The look of surprise on Linda and Richard’s faces is priceless as they turn to see you stride casually across to where Ransom stands. You try not to smirk as you take his glass from him, sipping it slowly as you step into his side. Your other hand slips around his waist instinctively as he carefully rests his hand on your lower back before he introduces you to his parents.

“Dad said you weren’t staying for dinner,” Linda comments after the introductions and Ransom glances up at his grandfather, who is still standing at the railing above.

“No,” he comments, unaware Harlan had given him the out. “We aren’t.”

“I have a work thing,” you almost sneer in Richard’s direction – tension between you obvious.

“Did you ever work with Iron Man?” the older man questions, obviously uncertain you’re telling the truth and you nod your head. “You know, I met Tony Stark once.” There’s a hint a maliciousness in his voice. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but he was prick.”

Without missing a beat, you smile sweetly, “Well, Tony always said it takes one to know one.”

Ransom nearly chokes on the bourbon he’s just took a sip of as Harlan erupts into laughter from upstairs.

Later you watch through the window as Ransom sits on the patio, Richard is standing in front of him, obviously reprimanding him for something. You wait until his father storms back into the house before you slip out the door, feeling Linda’s eyes following you.

“There is not enough alcohol in this house,” you say quietly as you move towards him. “Is she still watching me?”

Ransom’s eyes drift over to the window then back to you, “Like a hawk.”

You move to sit in his lap, causing him to shift uncomfortably as you lean against him, “She’s asked me so many questions.” You say quietly as you stare into the backyard watching the two dogs playing. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask for a blood sample.”

“If Granddad’s nurse was here, she would have.”

“When you said difficult,” you lean back to look down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I had no idea.”

“Rethinking your price?” Ransom remarks dryly.

“No,” you say, the corners of mouth hinting at a smile. “I really don’t like bullies.” Leaning back into him, you press your forehead against the base of his neck as you say quietly. “I would have done it for free.”

He laughs a little as his hand moves to rest on your knee, the heat radiating through your tights and onto your skin, causes your breath to catch slightly as he says, “I would have paid seven.”

There’s a moment of silence before you move to stand up. The comfortableness of the situation becoming a little too much for you, “We should probably get going.” He nods in agreement, following your lead.

“I’m telling you,” Richards voice echoes from the library. “There’s something going on here. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – really? I’m not buying it. That asshole is up to something.”

The audacity of the man baffles you, and Ransom tries to catch up as you storm into the library and over to where his father stands. You grab the collar of your sweater jerking it down, exposing your shoulder and the bright pink scar there.

“Six months ago, I was shot in Paris by an arms dealer,” you say angrily. “Because that’s my job.” Harlan stands up from his chair, watching the scene unfold. You turn to Ransom grabbing his sleeve and tugging it.

“I don’t –” he looks down at you, but can see the rage in your eyes and he sighs before he pulls his arm from the sleeve, allowing you to move the sweater over his shoulder as you push the sleeve of his undershirt up, exposing the fresh scar there.

“Ransom what is that?” Linda questions her son, concern on her face.

“That’s from a bullet,” you answer for him. “You know what kind of person takes a bullet for someone else?” You ask rhetorically. “Someone with a good heart and how he got that, living in such a toxic environment, is beyond me.” Harlan can’t hide the smile on his face as Ransom eases his arm back into his sweater sleeve. “So – in my book – you’re the asshole.” Richard stands there, shell shocked as you glance past them to Harlan. “Sorry Harlan, it was great meeting you.”

“Pleasure was mine dear,” he nods as you turn to storm out of the library.

Ransom gives a cocky smile as he waves before he turns to follow after you, watching you grab your coat before you open the door and head outside. He has to jog to catch up with you, his hand reaching for the passenger door before you can.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he comments quietly, watching your nostrils flare slightly as you try to steady your breathing.

“Someone needed to,” you reply as he opens the door.

Once he climbs into the driver seat, he sits there for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

“Oh, I’ll also be taking the master tonight,” you remark with a smirk.

He laughs as he starts the car, “Of course you will.”

***

Once inside Ransom’s house you head straight for the kitchen, looking through the refrigerator first before nosily pulling open the drawer for the freezer.

“Well, well, well,” you comment to yourself, grabbing the pint of ice cream.

“If you’re hungry, we could order in,” Ransom says walking in behind. “Or go out.”

“This will work,” you say, producing the container. “I didn’t take you for a cookies and cream kind of guy.”

“You never asked,” he grins, watching you search for a spoon. “Left drawer.” You open the one he’s talking about and pull out two spoons. “Thank you again – for today.”

“You’re welcome,” you remove the top from the pint and hand Ransom a spoon.

“You really stepped up,” he remarks. “Played your part quiet well.”

Scooping up some ice cream casually, you say, “You realize undercover work is part of my job.” He watches you curiously as you slip the spoon from your mouth.

“What’s the most fun?” he looks intrigued. “Role that you’ve had to play?”

Thinking for a moment as he slips a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth you finally answer, “Housewife. For over a week.”

“Really? With who?”

“That’s classified,” you say with a smirk causing him to laugh. Looking down at the pint of ice cream a thought strikes you. “Got any vodka?” He moves to a cabinet producing the bottle you asked for and watches as you go to the refrigerator. “Glasses too, please.” Ransom grabs those as well and leans against the counter as you begin measuring out the liquor and scooping ice cream into each glass, followed by milk.

Ransom walks past you to open another drawer, pulling out two straws as you finish stirring up the drinks. He takes the glass you offer him, placing a straw in it and yours before taking a sip. His eyebrows shoot up as he tries the milkshake. “This is – good.”

“Of course it is,” you respond.

Three shakes later and you’re giggling at Ransom telling you the story of last Thanksgiving with his family. “It was nothing compared to today though.” He looks over at you, the fireplace in front illuminating both your faces. “You were great – thank you.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that,” you remark jokingly. “Is ‘thank you’ a new phrase for you?”

Watching him look at the fire almost reminiscently as you place your glass on the small table between you. His voice is barely audible when he responds, “What you did for me – that was new.”

“I can see that,” you reply quietly, knowing that growing up with his family couldn’t have been easy. “I should call it a night.”

“Straight up the stairs, end of the hall,” Ransom says nodding towards the staircase. You stand up slowly, feeling slightly lightheaded from the vodka as you head for the stairs. “Hey.” He calls and you stop, turning to look at him. “That mission – the classified one.” Glancing up at you with that sincerity that you’ve caught a glimpse of before, he continues. “It was Rogers, wasn’t it?”

You give him a small grin, “Night Ransom.”

He waits until you’re upstairs and the bedroom door closes before he pulls his phone from his pocket, opening the application with several saved recordings. The first one is listed:

Agent S. Wilson, Phone Interview

He slides the bar forward a few minutes with his finger before he presses play and Sam’s voice comes through the phone speaker.

‘She and Steve, that relationship was – complicated. They loved each other though, in their own way.’

‘How would you describe her?’ Ransom’s voice comes across the device.

‘She’s one of a kind. I’ve seen her defy direct orders to save a friend. She’s loyal – bossy – but she’ll do anything for those she cares about,’ Sam’s words sound thoughtful. ‘I’m proud to call her a friend.’

Ransom had gotten a glimpse today of what Wilson had been talking about. You were relentless in your defense of him, something no one has ever done. He was glad he had invited you along. He had originally wanted to show his parents he could date someone smart – driven – but you had proven so much more than that in the short time you’d spent with them. He had seen that fire in your eyes, which led to the nagging question in the back of his mind – why?

Was that confidence – passion – in your eyes when you spoke of him meant for him, or for the man he reminds you of?

#ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #knives out fanfic #marvel #mcu #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fanfic #ransom drysdale fan fiction

1K notes · View notes

quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

perfect fit {ransom drysdale x fem!reader}

status — completed

warnings — cursing, unprotected penetrative sex (pls be safe when havinf sex), mirror sex, semi-public sex, degradation (slight), oral sex (female receiving), mentions of blood and being poked (briefly and not detailed)

word count — 3,370 words

a/n — lmao i have no shame i got inspired to write this because of an something i listened to which had a similar premise. i had a sequel in mind but idk if im gonna write that since i have a lot of fics planned out. feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :>

masterlist

It was something no one expected Ransom to do; but he did it anyway.

He was just lounging in his home one day and he took one of the many notebooks he had lying around and suddenly found himself sketching different clothing articles. By the time he was able to tear his focus and hands away from the notebook, it was already 11:45 at night, “Huh, so in the past five hours I was able to design 11 clothes,” he quietly thought to himself as he closed the notebook that contained his ideas and headed to bed.

The following day consisted mostly of doing two things; more designing and making calls. He was looking for possible suppliers who could give him the materials he needed in order to bring his designs to life. He also ordered his assistant to look for tailors who were willing to sew and stitch them to life, as he did not have any intentions on making those himself. Searching for a place to lease to station where the clothes would be made and sold was also something he did.

All of that happened almost 19 months ago; Ransom just suddenly had the idea of creating his own clothing line and he was successful in that endeavor. His brand was known for its eloquent and classy designs, while still being comfortable and affordable. It was also a bonus that the materials they used were cruelty-free and vegan; though this wasn’t really his idea, something his assistant had suggested and something he mindlessly agreed with as he was burying himself in designing a dress.

When his family found out about his current endeavor, there were various reactions in response. Joni seemed to be legitimately excited to see if Ransom’s design would match her taste and even told him how she was willing to post about his line on her Instagram. Meg and Walt finally had something in common as they both teased him and questioned his sexuality since he suddenly became interested in fashion; even his own father silently had the same thoughts and concerns. His mother, however, was somewhat proud of her son following in her footsteps and making a name for himself. While Harlan was surprised on how he was persistent in pursuing fashion, for he always thought that his first grandson would be his successor in terms of writing and in handling the publishing company.

Ransom, having had enough of their judgmental comments and half-assed support, snapped at them once he broke the news as they were enjoying dessert, “Alright, all of you, eat shit! No offense, Mom, but you had a loan from Granddad and without his money you’d be nowhere! Joni, cut the shit! We all know you rely on those brand deals you have and of course, on our family’s money. And Walt? At least I’m gonna make something of my own! Unlike you who just relies heavily on the books Granddad gives you to publish. And what the fuck does fashion have to do with one’s sexuality? If clothes make people gay then why are you wearing that sorry excuse of an outfit? Scared people might find your dick too small?”

And with that, he left the house as a sea of screams and commotion followed him, but he chose to ignore it of course.

In the span of those 19 months, his clothing line took off. Critics spoke highly of it, consumers couldn't get enough of his designs, and he was being constantly praised for his creativity. So it made Ransom feel as if he was on top of the world.

After his designs being featured on various fashion shows and being worn by numerous celebrities, the pressure to put out equally great designs was taking a toll on Ransom. Hence why he often spends time on the main store and headquarters he had in Boston. The place was fairly spacious — it had an office for where he could have meetings or design some of his clothes, a spacious and luxurious space for the customers to try on the clothes, rows of sewing machine next to an array of cloth for the workers whom he fairly compensated for their hard work, and even a small circular platform placed in front of mirrors for alterations.

Ransom advised his staff to go home early to enjoy the start of the weekend and he would be the one to close the store and balance what they had already sold and what was left. As he was busy in the counter checking the log and counting the money, he heard the chimes of the bell that hung above the door make a sound, directing his attention to where a lovely woman stepped into the store and it felt as if all the oxygen in his body left his body with how breathtaking the woman was.

“We’re about to close in a few minutes,” was all he managed to let out as the woman stood on the opposite side of the counter; she just smiled as she placed the gown wrapped in plastic down on the counter, “Oh? I’m so sorry but I was just wondering if I can have this gown altered? I bought it hastily last week and only got to try it on two days ago since I was incredibly busy with work and realized how loose it was on me.”

He looked down on the gown as he spoke, “Yeah well we close earlier on Fridays so,” prolonging the word so, he noticed how she moved as if she was about to exit the establishment, but he wondered, “What is the work you do that kept you busy?”

The question surprised both of them; Ransom didn’t know as to why he was curious about it, but it probably had to do with how he just wanted an excuse to talk to her and listen to her soothing voice. While Y/N didn’t realize that those were one of the requirements in order to have a dress altered, she told him anyway what kept her busy.

Nodding his head, he made an impulsive decision, “My assistants just left, but I can take care of it. It shouldn’t be a big problem” Her eyes lit up excitedly and she smiled widely and thanked him for being able to accommodate her. “Just go to one of the dressing rooms and change to the gown, and head to where the platform is — just right across, okay?” She nodded and followed to where his hands pointed to where he’d be waiting for her.

As she scurried off to the change, he found himself questioning himself as he switched off the open sign, grabbed a notebook, pen, and measuring tape, and waited for her to come out. Why the hell am I making such an effort for her? And when she did step out of the dressing room and made her way to step on the circular elevated platform, he remembered just why he was going out of his way to serve her; because she looked fucking gorgeous, especially seeing her wear a gown he designed.

Standing on the platform, she shyly looked at him to which he found adorable, “Why don’t you spin around slowly for me?” She nodded and did so, “What seems to be the problem with the gown?”

With her back facing him, she craned her neck and replied, “I found the length to be too long, I’m afraid I might trip on it,” as she faced him he noticed how he was standing dangerously close, and his facial features were dead serious, “So you just want to trim it a bit?”

She nodded, “Would it be possible to create a slit?” And just as she made that suggestion, she bunched up a bit of the gown and showed him how she wanted the slit to look like; but all it did to Ransom was make him drool with how luscious and soft her legs looked like. “Okay, yeah that’s something we can do.”

Grabbing a small container full of sewing pins he took hold of the bunched up fabric she held in her hand and told her he got it. “You know when I designed these gowns, you were exactly the target buyers I had in mind,” she tilted her to the side, confused with what he meant so he further explained, “Gorgeous, elegant, and absolutely stunning; especially once they wear my clothes.”

Her cheeks suddenly became a dark shade of red as she tried to shrug off his compliment, “Well I don’t really wear these kinds of clothes, but when a wedding comes, you have to.” As he was placing the pins on the fabrics, he looked up from where he was sitting on the platform, him being eye level with her thigh was doing nothing to prevent him from nursing a hard on, “A wedding you say?”

Snatching a glance from where her hands rested on her hips to get out of his way, he took note of the lack of ring and voiced out his observation, “I’m not seeing any ring on both your hands, so I’m gonna assume that you’re not the bride?” She laughed softly and shook her head, “No, I'm not the bride-to-be, my best friend is.”

“Good to know,” Ransom said softly and she didn’t hear it well and was about to question what he just said as she felt the sewing pins poke her skin. “Ow, fuck!” She yelped, which made the designer realize that instead of piercing through the dress, he accidently lightly grazed her leg. “Fuck, I’m sorry!” He apologized as he pulled the pin and wiped her upper thigh that started to bleed a little.

Feeling his warm hand envelope her hand and the thumb swiping away the crimson liquid, made her feel tingly as she looked down on him. Inching his face closer to her thigh, he looked up at her as his lips touched the area that he unintentionally hurt her in, “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” Y/N was stunned as his lips were back on her thigh after apologizing.

Breathlessly, she just nodded and was surprised both his hands took a hold of her ankles and were softly caressing her just like how his lips were being gentle with her flesh. As his hands were sliding up towards her shins, she could feel the goosebumps on her skin rise, and by the time they reached her thighs, that was the only time Ransom detached his lips from her skin, “You taste divine, baby girl. But I’m not done with making it up to you.”

Having a sudden surge of confidence, Y/N spoke out, “Then keep kissing me if you want to make it up to me.” Ransom too, was surprised because this meek-looking beauty demanded him to do something, “I beg your pardon?” It was her turn to be brave and brazen as she smirked down on him, “Keep on kissing my thighs or else I’ll leave a bad review of your services.”

Quickly, Ransom placed his lips back on her thigh, kissing and smooching every inch he could find; he wasn’t sure if he was threatened with how his business could be negatively affected or was he just turned out at the prospect of being told by this beautiful woman to keep on admiring her figure.

Tangling her fingers on his hair, she tugged at him and guided her where she wanted his mouth as he gave verbal directions, “Higher, baby, kiss me higher.” Though his eyes were darkened with pleasure of having to know what her skin tastes like and aroused with how he met someone who was able to tell her what she wants and bosses him around; he’s never had someone do that to him, for it was always him calling the shots.

Poking his tongue out, he traced over the outline of her lace underwear which resulted in her letting out a moan and tightening her grip on his hair — urging him to keep going. Moving from her thigh, he kissed his way until he was face to face with the center of her pussy. Inhaling her scent, he closed his eyes as he groaned and took in her addictive scent and lunged forward to kiss and lick her clothed core. Even with the fabric in its way, he was nipping on her pussy lips and licking through it, getting a faint taste of her.

“Oh, more please,” she gasped out in pleasure; and with that plea Ransom moaned as he tore his mouth from where he was making out with her clit and smirked as she heard her sigh at the sudden loss of contact. Looking up at her, he gave her a grin as he asked, “Did you honestly think you would be the one who’ll call all the shots, baby?”

Somehow, her crimson red cheeks managed to turn into an even deeper shade of it at what he said. He then moved to pull her panties down her legs, he didn’t even wait for her to kick them out of her as he immediately licked from her clit down to her opening. Moaning out, she trembled a bit and Ransom’s hands latched themselves onto her thighs to help prevent her from falling.

“Careful now baby girl,” he warned her as he looked up to see her flushed face starting to drip with sweat, his lips never fully removing themselves from her clit so with every word he spoke the vibrations was felt throughout her core, “Wouldn’t want you to injure yourself. How are you gonna turn up to the wedding then?”

As he finished his question, his tongue pushed itself into her tight opening and swirled around inside. Feeling dainty fingers push his face further, he was able to get a better taste of her juices that began to drip down to his tongue and he hissed at how delectable they were. Pulling out his tongue from her pussy, he immediately licked his way up to her swollen clit, “You taste amazing, baby,” he moaned out as he focused his efforts into sucking her clit hard and fast, feeling her thighs began to shake — a sign that she was close to her orgasm.

But Ransom wouldn’t let her cum right away, his left hand left the warmth of her thigh and slapped her clit multiple times, she opened her eyes in shock and looked down on the designer, aroused and elated with what he did. Getting the hint that she enjoyed what he did he teased her by saying, “You like it when I slap that clit?” Seeing how she nodded and bit her lip, he went on and slapped her clit multiple times but with not a lot of force, and his tongue went on to caress her tight opening until she once again began to quiver.

“God you’re such a filthy slut,” he stated as he stopped the movements his tongue and hand were doing, and went on to bite lightly her thigh, “I’m gonna have so much fun with you. Have to make sure my customer leaves this place satisfied with my services.” As he mentioned the double entendre, his voice was laced with desire and hunger.

Giving her thigh one last kiss, he stood up from the platform and placed his hands on her hips and lifted her so she stood on the ground just like he was. Grabbing the back of her neck, he pushed her against him so their lips met and they began to hungrily make out. Her hands were at his cheeks, softly grazing his cheeks which contradicts how their tongues were roughly dancing with each other. While Ransom’s other hand was feeling for the zipper on her back, unzipping it and pushing the dress off of her.

Moving both his hands to touch her back, he noticed the lack of bra and felt how her nipples harden against the fabric of his shirt, he separated their lips from where they were entangled and looked down to see her breasts, “Such a nasty little girl you are, aren’t you? Wearing this gown with no bra underneath, like you wanted me to see just how good your boobs are.”

She shook her head, “The gown goes well best without a bra,” she defended. Amused with her reply Ransom decided that they’ve had enough foreplay; both his hands planted on her hips and pulled her back so it was flush against his front, “And you know what would go best with your divine body? My cock and cum,” one of his hands grabbed onto his cock and rubbed the tip of it against her folds, feeling her shudder at the sensation, “So come on and take it.”

“Shit baby girl, you’re so tight for a slut,” Ransom groaned as he threw his head back with how her walls squeezed his hard dick in one smooth motion. The hand that guided his cock in repositioned itself and held onto her hair, pulling her head back and arching her back away from his chest, which contrasted the way her ass was pushing back to accommodate Ransom’s cock.

Hand in her hair and the other on her hip, Ransom was pulling her into his cock with sharp, fast, and harsh thrusts; while her moans and whines did nothing but to fuel him to drive his thick meat deeper in her. “You like this don’t you, baby? You like how I’m just ramming into you like you’re nothing but a whore?” He taunted as he let go of her hip and began to rub, twist, and pull at her nipples.

Y/N could only nod, too blissed out to give out a verbal response for the way he was deliciously torturing her nipples disabled her from forming a coherent sentence, much less a thought. Unhappy with how she responded, he let go of her hair and slapped both her ass cheeks, “Answer me! Tell me you like it!”

She went still for a moment due to the sting of his slaps, she widened her eyes and peered over her shoulder to look at him, “I love it! I love how you’re treating me, sir.” The title she had given him made him even more feral as he ordered her, “Look in the mirror slut, look at how desperate you are for me.”

Feeling shy from seeing her blissed out state on the reflection, she instead diverted her gaze on the man behind her who was mercilessly pounding into her. She found it absolutely hot how his jaw was clenched so hard and his eyebrows were furrowed; it made her clench down on him hard which led to Ransom to slam deep inside her and grab onto her shoulders, “You’re close aren’t you, baby? You’re about to cum on my cock aren’t you?” She nodded and whined, “Yes, sir, I’m so close. Please let me cum,” he chuckled in appreciation, she begged him to cum without even telling her to do so.

Speeding up the pace of his thrusts, his one hand was now alternating with rubbing and pinching her clit, in order to get her right on the edge. His lips were resting against her ear, his pants were only turning her on even more and with a final pinch of his fingers, she was cumming hard and with a loud wail.

Feeling how her walls squeezed him too tight to the point he couldn’t move anymore, Ransom stilled inside her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, “Fuck, you feel good.” After a couple of breaths, Ransom collapsed to sit down on the platform, taking her with him. Sitting down, he took the time to steady his breaths and recover from the intensity of their intercourse and orgasm.

Snaking his hand to her cheek, he tilted her head enough for him to plant his lips on hers and let her give a faint taste of her own juices and he pulled apart from her not without planting a small kiss, “The gown will be ready in a week, baby. And it’s on me.”

140 notes · View notes