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thistrulydumb · 8 months ago

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Mercy 4

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Steve Rogers; Curtis Everett; Jake Jensen; Lloyd Hansen; Robert "Mr. Freezy" Pronge Word Count: 3,922 Summary: Next up? Curtis. Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Mercenary!babes. Voyeurism. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex (f receiving). Overstimulation. Unprotected sex. Praise kink. Slight anal play. Cream pie.

A/N: At long last, here’s the next part of Mercy! Writing hasn’t come easy lately, so I would truly appreciate your thoughts and encouragement once you finish reading. Thank you ❤️

SERIES MASTERLIST

You stifled a yawn as you padded downstairs, still partially sleep mussed but enjoying the cozy warmth of your favorite pair of pajamas. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as stray flashes of the night before–with Steve–flickered through your mind.

It had been perfect, and you felt like you were still floating on a cloud of bliss in the aftermath.

Once you hit the first floor of the safe house, you tried to stifle your dopey smile as you followed the scent of bacon and coffee to the dining room, hearing the low murmur of the team before you stepped into the room and joined them.

Their conversation paused abruptly at your appearance, and you felt your face warm to be on the receiving end of so many knowing gazes, but luckily Curtis spoke up, breaking the awkward tension after just a quick beat.

“Steve’s finishing up breakfast,” he nodded to the kitchen doorway. “Go get yourself a plate before it’s all gone.”

Despite the way you couldn’t see Steve at the moment, you could hear him, or rather the faint sound of him whistling a jaunty tune as he cooked.

“You have him in there whistling while he works, cupcake,” Lloyd’s smile was wolfish. “You must have a magical pussy to have disappeared the stick from up his ass after just one night.”

Your gaze fell away shyly as Jensen choked on his eggs and Curtis glared at Lloyd from across the table.

“Oh please,” Lloyd rolled his eyes at Curtis’ death glare. “You’re all fucking thinking it, too.”

“That’s not the only thing I’m thinking about,” Robert’s gravelly voice purred.

When you glanced over at him, he touched his tongue to his teeth and gave you the kind of blatant onceover that had all of your hair standing on end.

Suppressing an eep of overwhelm, you still mustered a genuine smile for all of them, meeting Curtis’ warm gaze and feeling your cheeks reignite as he winked at you, before you darted past the table and scurried into the kitchen.

Steve looked over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival, his smile warm–and his eyes more so–as he drew you close with his free hand and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made you up a plate,” he told you, pulling your plate of food from the oven and handing it off to you. “Don’t be shy to ask for more, okay?”

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, in awe of the way just being in Steve’s presence could make you feel so good.

So happy.

So safe.

Realizing you were staring and grinning at him like a weirdo, you quickly dropped your eyes to your plate, cradling it between your hands.

You only had a moment to dwell in embarrassment before Steve stepped close again, kissing your cheek before murmuring his encouragement for you to go eat your breakfast with the team, promising he’d join you all in just a minute.

You tried not to squirm too much as you stood near the foot of Curtis’ bed.

The seemingly quiet one of the group was looming close, taking his time as he slowly circled you. Something about the way he was taking inventory of you was both predatory and savoring, and it had your body thrumming in anticipation as Curtis finally stopped to stand before you once more.

You nervously peeked up at him from beneath your lashes, finding his gaze dark and avid as he eyed you up some more, and shamelessly so as you stood before him in your nightgown.

It was long and much more cutesy than sexy, and the longer you stood there with Curtis silently observing you, the more embarrassed you grew about your outfit of choice, and the way it had a dumb ruffle along the top of your chest and little flowers littering the soft fabric.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, twisting your fingers together in front of you as you dropped your gaze to the floor.

“Why?”

You plucked at your nightgown. “It’s all I had, I just…know it’s probably not what you’re used to.”

Without your permission, your eyes strayed to Curtis once more, and now you were the one taking inventory.

He was tall and lean, his shoulders broad, the muscles beneath his black henley and cargo pants obvious. His skin was pale, his beard and shorn hair nearly black, and his eyes - they were the lightest blue you had ever seen, and despite their icy color, they kindled with the opposite of coldness as he watched you.

Somehow, you just knew, that someone who looked like Curtis, who had such an air of danger and intimidation about him–of confidence, too–didn’t often find himself locked away in a bedroom with a near virgin who couldn’t stop fucking squirming.

“You probably prefer your women sexy,” you babbled suddenly, your eyes widening at your own verbal diarrhea that you couldn’t seem to stop. “Like, sex pots or something. Confident, like you. I dunno. You just…seem experienced?” Curtis' mouth twitched, and you couldn’t tell if it was in an almost smile or an almost scowl, and it only made you more nervous–and regretful–as you hurried to assure him, “But not in a bad way. I just…”

You swallowed hard, your frantic gaze darting from him and flickering around the room before landing on the trunk against the far wall and how it was piled high with medical supplies.

Oh god, you thought as your breath hitched and you once again found yourself word vomiting the panicked thoughts racing through your mind.

“Are you…into like, rough stuff? Sex wise?” your face flamed as your stomach fluttered with fear at the thought. “Like the kind of stuff that will hurt?”

Frowning in confusion, Curtis followed your gaze, and his eyes twinkled as realization hit. “I’m a corpsman, well, was.”

You blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“Like a medic, in the marines,” Curtis elaborated.

“Oh,” you squeaked, mortified that you had been so wildly off base. “I guess that makes more sense, the team needs someone to patch them up, right?”

“Right,” Curtis hummed, stepping closer and purposefully moving into your line of vision. His hand reached for you, and he touched one solitary finger beneath your chin and tilted your face up until your gaze met his. “And you’re right about something else too - I haven’t really been with many women who are as…innocent as you.”

An embarrassed kind of shame washed over you at that, but when you tried to glance away, Curtis’ grip on your chin grew firm, holding your head in place, keeping your gaze on him.

“Which is why I can’t fucking wait to eat you alive, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widened as your pussy clenched hard at the husky purr to Curtis’ words. His eyes seemed to dance at you despite the way the rest of his features remained stoic. He watched you for a moment longer before his knuckles caressed along your cheek–a touch so surprisingly soft it had your breath catching–and then he released his grip on you and stepped back.

“As cute as this is,” he said, tugging on the collar of your nightgown. “I want you to take it off.”

“Okay,” you whispered shakily, your eyes wide as you moved to do as Curtis instructed.

He took your nightgown from your grip once you pulled it over your head, draping it over a nearby chair before he caught your wrist just as you raised your arm to cover your bare breasts.

“No hiding, not from me,” he rumbled. “Lose the panties, too.”

Your pussy fluttered wildly at his directive, and you could only nod in agreement–a silent promise to obey him–before shimmying out of your underwear and kicking them away.

Curtis resumed his loose grip on your wrist, turning toward the small loveseat across from the foot of the bed and leading you over to it. He sat down, his legs naturally spreading as he tugged you close. “C’mere.”

He seemed pleased as you immediately, and carefully, straddled his lap, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts now as you found yourself perched on Curtis’ thighs completely naked while he was still fully dressed.

Vulnerability rose up within you, and you had to once again stop yourself from your natural instinct to cover yourself and hide. But along with that vulnerability, you felt something else stir within you - excitement.

Because right now, Curtis really did look like he wanted to eat you, if his much darker than before gaze that wouldn’t leave your bare body was anything to go by. And you had a feeling that you’d really, really like it if he did.

Despite the sinful promise in Curtis’ gaze, he surprised you when he let his hands fall down to his sides and away from your body altogether.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he murmured, that twinkle back in his eyes when he watched your own gaze grow big.

“Uh,” you squirmed in his lap. “When you say ‘touch yourself’--”

“I want to watch you play with your pussy. So put those little fingers of yours to good use and get your cunt all wet and sloppy for me, so I can clean you up with my mouth before filling you with my cock and making you messy all over again.”

“Oh boy,” you breathed, feeling your nipples tighten into hard peaks as your pussy throbbed its delighted anticipation. “This is escalating very quickly.”

“Go on.”

Touching a hand to your chest, you took a deep breath before slowly dropping it lower. You froze as it hovered between your legs.

Once again, you found yourself shyly peeking up at Curtis from beneath your lashes as your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“I’ve never…done anything like this,” you whispered.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Curtis teased. “Go on, put on a pretty show for me, like a good girl.”

You shivered, something about being called a “good girl” melting away the resistance in your brain, and before you knew it, your fingers were shyly trailing along your slit before they found your little nub and gave it a few rubs.

When you gasped and rocked your hips, Curtis hummed another, “Good girl,” his hands finally lifting to frame your hips and keep you safe in his lap as you began to move with more enthusiasm. “Keep going, I want you soaked for me.”

Between Curtis watching you so hungrily, and your own bold actions–and intimate touch–you were well on your way to soaked for him. The very thought had a quiet moan bubbling up your throat and spilling past your lips.

Curtis grunted in response, and having such an effect on him, being here with him like this, it bolstered your confidence in a way you’d never felt before. The last of your reservations faded away entirely as your head dropped back and your eyes closed as you sank two fingers into your cunt and felt yourself clench around them.

You rutted into your own touch, nearly bouncing in Curtis’ lap and distantly aware of the way his grip on your hips tightened–more groping than holding now–as your body writhed atop him.

You had touched yourself before, of course, but it had never felt this good, this exciting. You knew it was because Curtis was there to bear witness to your sinful endeavor, demanded it of you, really, but still…your own fingers weren’t quite doing it for you.

When your eyes fluttered open, they met Curtis’ knowing gaze, and you couldn’t help but pout at him. Just as you went to drop your free hand between your legs to find your clit and work yourself closer to orgasm, Curtis shook his head, growling a quiet, “No. No cumming yet.”

You froze, and he leaned closer, his next words a warm wash against your parted lips.

“Let me have a taste.”

Your chest hitched at his request, but your body was obeying it before your mind could even think to resist. You pulled your hand from between your legs, getting a glimpse of your own shiny fingers before Curtis caught your wrist and pulled your hand close.

His eyes smoldered at you as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, groaning as the taste of your arousal coated his tongue.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you felt Curtis’ tongue brush against your messy fingers, lapping up all of your sticky juices before he was pulling back with a quiet pop.

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you breathed, squirming closer to Curtis.

He watched you for a moment, and then he moved so quickly–so unexpectedly–that you squealed and clung to him as he rose from the loveseat, relocating you both over to the bed in the blink of an eye.

Your head was still spinning–and your pussy pulsing in need–as he quickly undressed. Once Curtis was as naked as you, he pushed you up the bed, shoved your legs open as wide as they could go, and dove in.

A ragged keen spilled from your lips as Curtis tongued up the cut of you before sucking on your clit hard. He kept one hand on your inner thigh, holding your legs open as his other arm settled over your hips to keep you in place.

He was much more feral than Steve as he ate you out, groaning into your folds and shoving his tongue into your drippy hole. He fucked you that way for a long moment before his tongue was retreating and swirling it’s way up to your clit.

Whining Curtis’ name, you writhed against him, your hands gripping his head now as your hips rocked against his face and every logical thought in your brain melted away one by one.

You rode out your first orgasm against Curtis’ face, bucking against him and feeling his beard prickle all along your sensitive flesh, adding to the myriad of sensations lighting up your body from head to toe.

He barely let you catch your breath before he was focusing on your clit now, tugging back the hood of your mound and alternating between broad, lapping licks and the kind of relentless flicks of his tongue that had your eyes rolling back in your head as he tore another orgasm–then another–from your trembling body.

By the time you came for the fourth time–with Curtis’ tongue inside of you and his thumb circling your swollen, oversensitive clit–you were trembling so hard you felt like you could no longer control your own body. Gasping for breath, you became aware of the tears streaming from your eyes down to your temples, and whined pathetically once Curtis pulled his tongue from your channel and lapped his way up your wet, sticky folds.

“Please, wait,” you begged as his tongue touched your clit once more and you tried to twist away from him. “Please, I’m sorry.”

At the wrecked wobble of your voice, Curtis finally relented, easing his hold on you and gently petting up your sides as he kissed his way up your belly before hovering over you, face to face. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your lashes fluttered as Curtis kissed the tip of your nose, and you suddenly found yourself desperate for that kind of touch.

Something just a little bit softer, and a little less wicked.

“It’s just, a lot,” you whispered, clinging to Curtis’ sides as he continued to rain soft kisses all over your face.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

You shook your head so quickly that when your eyes fluttered open once more and found his, Curtis’ own gaze was twinkling with warmth and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Can you please kiss me, for real?” you asked.

Curtis’ face softened and he drifted closer, his eyes flickering to your lips as he hummed, “Yeah, I can do that.”

Your belly swooped as Curtis’ big, rough hand slid against your cheek, gently cradling your face as he dipped even closer. His thumb caressed along your skin, his nose knocking yours, and then he was tilting his face and pressing his lips to yours.

Curtis kissed you slowly, thoroughly, taking his time as his lips got acquainted with yours. You sighed as you kissed him back eagerly, your arms curling around his neck and pulling him even closer as he deepened the kiss and you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He didn’t stop tasting you until you were a pliant puddle beneath him, and chasing his retreat despite the way you could barely catch your breath. You clung to him, your gaze glossy, and Curtis’ nostrils flared as he pressed flush against you, groaning as his hard cock jutted against your soft belly.

“God, you’re so fucking sweet. I need to be inside you,” he rumbled, and you could only nod silently, your own desire just as desperate as his, and the only thing you could focus on now.

Pulling away, Curtis urged you over onto your belly. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at him, probably looking as unsure as you felt because he was quick to reassure you.

“Just relax, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make us both feel good.”

The press of his lips to your bare shoulder had you shivering and sinking against the mattress. Much like Steve, there was something about Curtis that had you trusting him on instinct. As he shifted behind you, straddling the back of your thighs, his big hands gave your ass a grope before smoothing up your spine and giving your shoulders a firm rub, encouraging the release of more and more tension from your body.

Once you were pliant beneath him, you felt him moving again. He urged your left leg up, until your knee was bent and your wet pussy was on display. You gasped as you felt the hot, hard press of Curtis’ cock against you, moaning quietly as he just rubbed along your center, coating himself in your arousal.

And then you felt the crown of his cock at your entrance. He groaned as he teased your hole, dipping in slightly–earning a sharp gasp from you for his efforts–before he was pulling away and then doing the same thing all over again.

Just as you were starting to squirm beneath him, breathing his name in a needy plea, he pressed into you for real this time, going slow and steady as he patiently fed you each and every hard, thick inch of his cock.

By the time he filled you to the hilt, you were panting, fisting the blankets at either side of you as you squeezed your eyes shut tight and whined at the stretch of him so deep inside of you.

Guiding your leg back down so you were laying flat on your belly–prone for him–Curtis moaned as he stretched out over your back, his bare body flush to yours as his lips found your ear and he husked, “You’ve got the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt, pretty girl.” He gave a shallow rut that had you keening for him. “Fucccck, you feel incredible.”

A light nip of your earlobe was all the warning you got, and then Curtis’ hips were retreating, his thick cock dragging against your tight, velvety walls, before he surged forward again, filling you up with a deep stroke that had you crying out and fisting the blankets even tighter.

Maybe it was the position you were in, but every single thrust of Curtis’ cock was hitting a sensitive spot inside of you that was driving you absolutely wild. You panted against the sheets as your pussy fluttered and clenched. The feel of his big, heavy body atop yours just added to all of the sensations driving you closer and closer to your next release.

Curtis’ throaty grunts were filling your ears when he dug a hand beneath you, his fingers resting along your overworked clit as the heel of his hand pressed against your lower belly and his cock shoved into you over and over and over again.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum for me,” Curtis groaned as he felt your cunt start to flutter.

Softly crying his name, you did just that, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth hanging open as you trembled beneath Curtis’ weight and allowed your orgasm to sweep you away on a wave of bliss.

Moaning, Curtis began to rut into you without rhythm, his hands gripping your hips before they were palming both of your ass cheeks. You were too dazed to be embarrassed when he tugged your cheeks apart, watching the way your creamy hole swallowed his cock over and over again.

His thumb teased along your rosebud, and it was the sound of your sharp, scandalized squeal–and the way you clenched around him almost painfully hard–that finally had Curtis cumming with a quiet hiss of ecstasy.

He shoved into you as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing inside of you as the warmth of his spend filled you up. You moaned at the way he continued to rut into you, pumping you full of him, until your swollen, overworked pussy had milked him of every last drop of his warm, sticky cum.

Curtis was still for a moment, one of his hands straying from your ass to smooth up your spine. He pulled out of you slowly, lips twitching at your throaty moan. He waited a beat, humming as he watched his cum trickle from your pussy before catching it on his fingers and smearing it all over your swollen folds.

“Told you I’d make you messy all over again,” his voice was a husky tease as he pulled away.

“Hnnnngh,” you groaned into the rumpled blankets beneath you, your eyes already growing heavy as your body continued to shudder with stray shocks.

You didn’t resist when Curtis eased you over onto your back, and you watched shyly–remaining still for him–as he cleaned you up before tossing the soiled towel aside and then climbing back into bed with you.

He stretched out beside you on his back, looking as relaxed as you had ever seen as he raised his arm in invitation. You shimmied close with a grateful smile, tugging the blanket up as you sank against him.

“Fuck, you were incredible,” he sighed, fingers dragging along your bare arm.

You tried to hide your pleased smile, your belly swooping at his praise and gentle caresses. “You did all the work really, I just laid there and reaped the benefits.”

Curtis laughed, and your head snapped up, your eyes big and soft as you met his warm gaze and drank in the very first smile you had ever seen adorn his handsome face.

You just watched each other for a long beat, and then you were returning Curtis’ soft smile with one of your own.

“Thank you for being good to me,” you whispered.

Something in Curtis’ features softened even more. He was quiet for a moment, his knuckles touching your warm cheek before he leaned in and kissed you gently. When he pulled away, he murmured, “Sleep now, sweet girl. You definitely earned the rest.”

Giggling, you snuggled even closer to him, sighing happily as you allowed your eyes to drift shut and stay that way, hyper aware of the way Curtis kept up the soft, soothing caresses along your arm until you were fast asleep.

I know it’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, but it’s something. I hope you enjoyed it, and I’d be so grateful if you took a moment to share your thoughts and reactions via a reblog or comment. Thank you ❤️

—

I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @‌sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

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thistrulydumb · 1 year ago

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Wild & Free: Chapter 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4,343 Summary: You reunite with your only friend. Warnings: Explicit language. Reference to: drinking, drug use, self-destructive behavior, rehab, shitty family, captivity and abuse, and bad parenting/grandparenting. Angst. Innocent, kind of raised in the wild vibes!Reader. Cranky, self-loathing!Ransom.

A/N: These two live rent free in my hoe brain tbh. If you’re new to this story, be sure to check out the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this installment, and I encourage you to please take a moment to leave a reblog or comment once you finish reading! Thank you so much! ❤️

Your eyes were as wide as dinner plates as you stepped into the kitchen, your mouth dropping open as you glanced around.

It was so big! So nice and so warm and so clean.

And it hit you quite suddenly, how filthy you were.

You frowned as you glanced down at yourself. Your old, worn dress was still wet and caked in dirt, and your bare, muddy feet were leaving dirty footprints all over the otherwise pristine floor.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your eyes welling with tears of shame as you hugged yourself tightly, your shoulders hunching as you curled in on yourself.

"It's fine," Ransom said, watching you for a moment before he continued, "You can use one of the guest bathrooms to shower. Come on."

You peeked up at him as he gestured for you to follow him before he turned and led you through the large, dimly lit manor. Your eyes stayed big and curious as you tried to take in every detail of the space around you, marveling at how gigantic it was–overwhelmingly so–as well as all the different items, portraits, and decorations that filled the manor.

Soon you were following Ransom into a large guest bedroom on the second floor, careful to walk on the hardwood instead of the immaculate white throw rug taking up much of the space.

"Bathroom's through there," he waved a hand toward the door that was ajar and the dark room beyond. "There should be soap and towels and everything you need to get cleaned up."

You blinked at him, overwhelmed, not knowing what any of those things were, but the tense lines in Ransom's handsome face had you suppressing your questions, worried that you would make him mad. So you just nodded and scurried into the bathroom before just standing there in the dark.

After a long, awkward beat, you heard Ransom sigh behind you before he joined you in the small space, reaching for a switch on the wall and flipping on the lights.

You winced at the sudden brightness, blinking owlishly as you glanced around the room that was done up in all bright whites and grays and that looked just as sparkling and beautiful as the rest of the house that you had seen so far.

"Here's a spare toothbrush and toothpaste," Ransom said, rifling around in one of the drawers before setting said items out for you beside the sink.

Those things you were familiar with, as grammy had brought them to you every so often so you could keep your teeth strong and clean and they didn't need to hear you whine about any pain or issues over the years.

Next, Ransom pulled a fluffy, folded bundle from the cabinet beside the sink and set it on the edge of the counter for you.

He waved you toward the large glass encased shower, "It's all yours."

But when you just glanced between him and the shower, your brows furrowing in confusion as you swallowed nervously and didn't move an inch–clearly unsure of what to do next–Ransom huffed, hands dropping to his hips as he cocked his head and gave you an annoyed look.

“You’re acting like you’ve never showered before," he snapped in frustration.

You winced at his tone, blinking back tears as you admitted, “I haven’t.”

Ransom's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he just stared at you for a moment before his features softened as he asked, “They never let you out of the shed? Not once? In all those years?”

You shook your head. “Grammy would bring a bucket of water and a cloth so I could clean, but this is the first time I’ve been…" you struggled for the words before finally settling on, "Not there.”

“And you immediately came here?” Ransom gaped at you.

“Just like you told me to," your lips curled into a small, proud smile. "I remembered this whole time, what you said."

Ransom swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, glancing away for a long moment–like he needed a beat to comprehend what you were telling him–before his gaze returned to you. “How did you get out?”

“Poppy, he was so mad and he…” your voice quavered, your vision blurring with tears as you whispered, “He died. And grammy’s gone, too. Just me now.”

"Jesus," Ransom muttered, just watching you and observing how you were starting to fidget and curl in on yourself again. "Okay, let's just get you cleaned up, alright?"

When you nodded quickly–grateful to move on from that line of questioning–Ransom turned to the shower and showed you the different nozzles.

"This one's hot water, this one's cold, you can adjust them however you like." He turned the water on, glancing over at you as you jumped and squeaked in surprise as the showerhead burst to life and rained down clean water in a loud rush.

"Oh!" You scurried closer, peeking around him in wonder and hesitantly sticking your hand beneath the stream of water. "It's so hot!"

"Too hot?" he asked, noting how your hand quickly recoiled. He adjusted the temperature until it was slightly cooler, his gaze dipping to your dress. "You can just leave your dress on the floor. I'll have the housekeeper trash it tomorrow and we can get you some new clothes. In the meantime, I'll find you something to sleep in, okay?"

"Okay!" you answered quickly, not really paying attention to what he was saying as you hesitantly stuck your hand back into the stream of water, making a noise of wonder.

"Okay," Ransom chuckled, earning your attention then–and an abashed smile–as he moved past you.

You watched as he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Your smile faded as you realized you were all by yourself now–again–and in an unfamiliar space no less. Desperate to rejoin Ransom–to not be alone–you hurried to undress and stepped into the shower, gasping in delight at the warm spray of water and how good it felt on your cold, achy body.

You read the bottles of the products lining the in-shower shelves, using a few of them and in awe at how nice they smelled and how soft they made your skin feel.

After a while, you were fumbling with the shower nozzles, clean as a whistle as you turned off the water and just stood there dripping for a moment.

You stopped at the sink long enough to use the toothbrush and toothpaste, then once you figured out how to use the faucet and nozzles, you drank some cold water before returning to the bedroom.

It wasn't as big as some of the other rooms in the manor, but it was so nice! The bed was huge and piled high with soft, luxurious linens and pillows that you couldn't help but touch.

At the foot of the bed was a small pile of clothes, and you touched those too as you walked by before leaving the room and retracing the route Ransom had taken earlier so you could go and find him.

Ransom wiped up the last of your muddy footprints from the kitchen floor before throwing away the dirty paper towels, and then he just stared down at the closed silver trash can, unseeing as he tried to remember the last time he actually cleaned up anything himself.

He literally couldn't recall. His entire life, his family had employed help to clean up and cook and take care of them and their various homes.

Meanwhile you had been locked in that shed like an animal for your entire life.

Ransom planted his big hands on the edge of the marble countertop, sagging against it as he closed his eyes and tried not to drown in the guilt and shame that was eating him alive.

How could he forget about you?

How could he have done nothing and just left you to that awful fate?

It didn't matter that he had tried to tell his parents about you and they had done nothing, at the end of the day, he had failed in his measly attempt to help you.

And then he had been whisked away by his parents, back home to the city, leaving you behind and stuffing the memories of you–and the distress that came with them–down so deep he didn't even know they were there.

It was finally starting to make sense, why he endlessly sought escape through drugs and alcohol. He had always thought it was to escape his family–drown out their constant noise and disappointment–and some of it was because of that.

But Ransom was starting to think that maybe, on some level, he had been punishing himself.

He just didn't know why until now.

Ransom was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of quiet shuffling behind him, and when he straightened and turned around, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock.

Because you were standing in the kitchen doorway, shivering, dripping wet, and completely naked.

Ransom just gaped at you a moment, his mouth hanging open as his dark blue eyes trailed over the length of you from head to toe.

It was obvious that you were malnourished, but despite that–despite the life you had lived, if it could even be called that–you were beautiful, and your eyes were still so bright and kind as your lips tilted into a smile as you met his gaze.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, something in his chest clenching at the soft, happy way you were looking at him–a way he didn't deserve, not after what he did to you–but he quickly shook it off.

Before he could rein himself in, his discomfort got the best of him, and Ransom was snapping at you with a narrowed gaze. "Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?"

You cowered at his harsh tone, your smile falling away as you hugged yourself tightly and whispered, "Sorry?"

"Why aren't you wearing the clothes I left out for you?" Ransom huffed as he rounded the kitchen isle and moved toward you.

Your look was part puzzled, part surprised as you gaped at him. "For me?"

He blinked at your confusion, suddenly realizing that you probably weren't used to receiving things. Averting his wandering gaze from your body–and feeling pissed at himself for even looking–Ransom stormed past you and back upstairs to the guest bedroom.

He was confident that you would follow him, and you did, trotting after him as he swept into the room, then the bathroom, grabbing the towel from the counter before returning and holding it out to you. "Dry off."

You were like a deer in headlights, and Ransom could see it written all over your face, that you were perplexed by what he was asking of you. Still, you tentatively took the towel and just held it against your chest, unsure of what to do next but too afraid to ask as you stared at him.

And then suddenly, you were chirping softly, your eyes going big as you realized the towel was so soft and fluffy. You hugged it against you, rubbing your cheek along the material, and you looked so fucking sweet and amazed that Ransom felt all of his frustration instantly melt away.

How could he be annoyed with you?

It truly seemed an impossible feat, especially as he watched you bury your face in the towel and cling to it like it was some kind of cherished stuffed animal or pet or something.

Heaving another sigh, Ransom patiently explained how to dry off, his gaze pointedly focused elsewhere as you did what he instructed.

"Put these on," he said next, scooping up the spare clothes from the foot of the bed and handing them off to you. Again, he kept his eyes averted before you were breathing a quiet, awe-filled "Thank you." that had him finally looking back your way.

You were swimming in the sweatshirt and joggers he had lent you, and Ransom tried his best to squash the primal kind of awareness that was rising up in him at seeing you dressed in his clothes.

It helped that you beamed up at him, so sweet and innocent as you spoke another grateful little, "Thank you!" And how you kept smoothing your hands down the front of the sweatshirt, murmuring to yourself, "So soft and clean!"

When your stomach growled loud enough to startle you, making you squeak and jump as you shot him a wide-eyed look before dropping your gaze to the floor in embarrassment, Ransom chuckled, so fucking charmed by you.

"You hungry?" he asked, waiting until you peeked up at him and nodded shyly before moving past you. "Come on, I'm no chef–and she comes tomorrow–but I'm sure we can find something to tide you over."

And back down to the kitchen you both went.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen, unsure of what to do with yourself as Ransom rooted around in the cabinets before moving to a huge, silver box at the end of the counter, opening its doors, and doing the same.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn't help but ask, "What's that?" as you gazed at the silver box, trying to see around Ransom to its brightly lit contents.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, lips twitching at your inquisitive look as you stared at the fridge, explaining, "It's a refrigerator. It's a kitchen appliance that keeps food cold and fresh." He pulled a few things free, gently tapping the bottom drawer of the fridge with his foot since his hands were full as he told you, "And that's the freezer. Freezes things, makes them cold as ice so they last longer."

"Oh."

Closing the fridge, Ransom turned toward the isle and placed down a small haul of items, his eyes flickering to you as he frowned at the way you were just standing in the doorway, fidgeting nervously.

"Have a seat," he gestured to one of the stools on the other side of the isle counter, waiting until you tentatively made your way closer before turning away to pull a plate from the cabinets and a knife from a drawer.

Your throat jumped on an apprehensive swallow as you stood beside the stool across from Ransom, your brows furrowed in trepidation as you asked, "I can sit here? On the nice chair?"

You smoothed your hand over the soft microfiber material of the seat, humming a little at how nice it felt as you glanced up at Ransom.

He blinked at you, processing your question–your hesitancy to use the furniture–before his features softened. "Yes, you can sit there."

"Thank you," you grinned, carefully climbing onto the stool and folding your hands in your lap as you sat still and watched him.

Ransom nodded, quickly making some sort of sandwich as you observed, and then he set the plate in front of you.

You perked up in your seat, your stomach growling non stop now and your mouth watering, because it had been days since you last ate anything, and you were starving.

But still, you waited for Ransom's permission to dig in, watching in amazement as he used a device on the front of the refrigerator to fill a tall glass with water before placing it in front of you.

He just watched expectantly as your gaze flickered between him and the sandwich, his brows furrowing in confusion before he realized what was going on.

"Go on, eat," he encouraged, his eyes sad as he watched you nod eagerly before picking up half of the sandwich.

Your gaze flickered to Ransom's before you took a bite, and you chewed slowly, humming your delight as the salty-sweet flavors burst all along your tastebuds. The flavor was so familiar, and it took you a moment to realize that Ransom had made you a PB&J sandwich, just like he had when you were children and he came to visit you all those years ago.

Something about that realization, and those memories, and the fact that you were now here–free and with him–hit you hard, and you burst into tears as so many mixed emotions rose within you at once.

Sadness and relief, gratitude and disbelief all warring within you–consuming you–as you set down your sandwich and covered your mouth with your hand as you sobbed.

There was a long, awkward moment where you just sat there, shaking as you cried, lost to the maelstrom of your feelings–beside yourself and so overwhelmed–and then Ransom's warm, musky scent filled your nose before he hesitantly touched your shoulder and began rubbing your arm to console you.

Another sob hitched in your chest, and it was instinctual, the way you turned and sank against his chest, seeking comfort from the one and only person who had ever been kind to you.

Ransom was rigid against you at first, but his stance softened the longer he held you, his chin knocking against the crown of your head as he murmured, "It's okay." His big hand pressed between your shoulder blades, a soothing weight, as he shushed you. "You're okay now, I promise."

Your unexpected watery giggle had him stilling, and he stayed close, holding you loosely as you pulled away, sniffling and wiping away your tears.

"Pinky promise?" you quavered, holding up your pinky.

The smile that broke out across Ransom's face at the familiar exchange from a lifetime ago was beautiful–and it instantly quelled the turmoil within you–his eyes warming as his cheeks glowed with a rosy flush and he nodded.

"Yeah, pinky promise," he chuckled, curling his pinky around yours and giving it a shake. After a long moment of watching you gather yourself, he stepped away, nudging your plate closer to you as he said, "Come on, finish eating, I'm sure you're starving."

You nodded, devouring your sandwich in record time, humming and wiggling in your seat, thoroughly enjoying the yummy taste the entire time as Ransom watched you in amusement.

Just as you finished your first sandwich, he placed another on your plate, smiling as you chirped your gratitude before scarfing down that one, too.

When you finished, you drank down half your glass of water in one go, feeling exhaustion start to lap at you as you blinked over at Ransom, who was watching you with warm, twinkling eyes.

"You're kind of a disaster, you know?" he teased, reaching for a nearby napkin and stepping up beside you to wipe stray jelly from your cheek.

Despite his words, his tone was fond, and you leaned into Ransom's soft touch. You were desperate for it, having gone so long without such a gentle kindness or physical contact that wasn't a violent punishment.

Once he set the napkin aside, Ransom remained close, watching as your small hands smoothed over the front of his sweater then up along his broad shoulders. Your touch was innocent–inquisitive–your eyes, although drooping with fatigue sparkling with wonder and appreciation as you pet along the soft material of his shirt.

Soon your admiration for his sweater shifted to admiration of him, your gaze lifting to Ransom's, unwavering as you said, “You got so big and strong!" Your lips twisted into a slight frown as you watched him, raising your hand to cradle the side of his face as you whispered, "Your eyes are the same though, so pretty, but so sad now, too."

A slight grimace flickered over Ransom's features, but then his lips were curling into a small smile as he looked you over in return. “You’ve grown up quite a bit yourself.”

You returned his smile with one of your own, blinking at him sleepily before you reached for him. Your fingers curled into the front of his sweater and you tugged him closer, whispering, "I missed you."

Ransom swayed near–against you–not resisting as you pressed your face against his chest and just took a moment to breathe him in. There was an unfamiliar feeling rising up within you the longer you remained in Ransom's loose embrace, and it was something so foreign to you that it took you a moment to place what exactly it was.

Safety.

Ransom made you feel safe.

You sank against him even more at the realization–trying to soak it all in, and desperately so–gripping his sweater tighter as you blinked back a fresh wave of tears, because you never thought you'd feel this way, not in your wildest dreams.

Ransom's amused voice and gentle touch as he rubbed your back snapped you back into the present moment as he asked, "Did you fall asleep on me?"

His amusement lingered as you gave him an abashed smile. Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as you whispered, "Sleepy."

"Yeah, it's been a long, crazy day, huh?"

You nodded.

"Okay, let's get you to bed then."

Ransom stepped back, waiting for you to slip from your seat. You followed him back upstairs, yawning as you padded behind him, trying to cover it with your hand as he stood at the doorway of the guest room and ushered you inside.

"My room's all the way at the other end of the hall, past the staircase, if you need me," He gestured behind him. "The staff should arrive first thing in the morning, so if you wake up before me and want some food or coffee or something, just ask the chef."

You were too tired to ask what coffee was, but you were suddenly more alert when Ransom took a step back to retreat. You darted toward him, your eyes going big and scared as you asked, "You're leaving?"

"Not leaving," he told you, "Just going to my bedroom to sleep."

You swallowed, looking distraught as you wrung your hands before you. "Not leaving? Like before?"

Ransom's features softened as he stepped into your room and closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your upper arms as he ducked his face close, his expression–and eyes–so earnest as he said, "I'm not leaving, I promise."

You automatically held up your pinky in expectation at his words, and Ransom huffed a laugh.

"Pinky promise," he told you as he curled his pinky around yours.

"Okay," you still looked worried as you stepped away, frowning a little before another yawn broke free and your tiredness won out over your apprehension.

You sank to the floor, your hand running over the soft texture of the rug beneath you before you went to curl up on your side, but Ransom's voice stopped you.

"What are you doing?"

You glanced up at him, lips pursing in confusion. "Sleeping."

"That's what the bed is for," he said, moving around you and pulling some of the decorative pillows from the bed and tossing them aside. He pulled back the thick comforter before stepping back and gesturing for you to climb in.

You felt another lump rising in your throat as you stared at the bed.

You'd never slept in a bed before. You'd spent your entire life sleeping on the floor of the shed, considering yourself lucky when you had a spare, worn blanket to help shield you from the cold elements during the winter months.

"For me?" you trembled, pulling your tearful gaze from the bed to glance at Ransom. "I can sleep there?"

"Of course you can, it's a guest bedroom and you're my guest."

"I am?"

"Yeah," Ransom laughed, "Now tuck in, it's late and we're both exhausted."

You scrambled into the bed, quietly squealing at how soft it was. You tugged the comforter up to your chin and sank back against the luxurious pillows, wriggling around, your eyes big and brimming with happy tears as you breathed, "It's so soft! And warm!"

"That's kind of the point," Ransom grinned.

“Thank you, thank you!” you told him, dipping your nose to the comforter and inhaling the soft clean scent. "Such a good friend!"

"Eh, these days, I'm not really the friend type," Ransom replied before he could think better of it.

Your face fell, your lower lip wobbling as you whispered, "Oh."

A look of panic flickered over Ransom's face, and then he was clearing his throat, glancing away as he replied, "But I suppose, I can make an exception for you."

Your dejected look instantly melted away as you perked up, giving him the sweetest look of hope ever as you asked, "So…friends?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "Friends."

You were launching yourself from the bed before you realized it, overcome with joy and hugging Ransom tight as you thanked him over and over again.

"Okay, you're welcome, Jesus, calm down, you little ball of gratitude," he muttered, giving you a squeeze before corralling you back into bed. "Sweet dreams or whatever."

He turned to leave but paused in the doorway when you called his name.

"Ransom?"

He glanced back at you. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for protecting me," you smiled.

He just watched you for a beat, looking strangely sad before he mustered a smile and murmured, "You're welcome. Good night."

"Good night!" you echoed back at him, watching as Ransom stepped from your room and switched off the light before pulling the door shut.

Still smiling, you settled back against the perfectly fluffy pillows, hugging the thick comforter around you and feeling like you were living an actual dream, one of the many fantasies you had conjured up over the years to help you escape your harsh reality.

When you finally fell asleep just a few moments later, safe and cozy in bed for the first time in your life, your dreams were so much better than your fantasies had ever been.

You dreamed of a new reality, of a life where you were free and happy and loved, and Ransom was there with you the entire time, his big hand holding yours tight as he kept you close–right beside him–where you belonged.

EEEEEEP!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, THESE SWEET, TRAUMATIZED BABIES 🥺😭 ALSO! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT - TWO CHAPTERS AND STILL NO FILTH?! HAHAHAHA. PLEASE OH PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO DROP A REBLOG OR COMMENT! I TRULY APPRECIATE IT! 🙏🏻❤️

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Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or my personal author website. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️

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