One Too Many's Not That Bad

R.D | That's Hers, The Three X Brand

Pairings: best friend!Ransom Drysdale X reader, sorta surprise!C.E & S.S characters

Plot: You and your best friend Ransom usually have a routine when you go to New York; 1. Stay with the girls, 2. Stay as safe as possible and don't fucking die, 3. Call him as soon as you're sober, and wherever hell hole you've fit yourself into, he'll get you. What happens when somebody brings you home to him for a change?

Warnings: sorta modern AU, a lot of fluff, a lot of LANGUAGE!, teasing, drunk!reader, jealous!Ransom 😗

Word Count: 1998 words (i did that on purpose)

Author's Note: so school started! if any of my 3AC readers are also here reading this one-shot book, i might be updating this a little more than 3AC. i dunno, i'll be giving updates. stay safe always!!! 💙💙

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This wasn't your usual scene. The messy hair, the pretty plaid skintight number, the dark brown leather boots that definitely gave off a country cottage girl look. Okay, maybe that was your usual scene; it was a girls' night getup, but you being surprisingly still drunk and willingly following strangers into their car and letting them drive you all the way to Massachusetts was not the usual scene you'd find yourself in.

Ransom was going to kill you.

Oooh, he was going to definitely kill you.

Butttttt~~ you couldn't wait to tell him all about it. Speaking of which, you may have stopped over for gas... or directions. Peeking through the half-rolled down window, you sleepily watched as the blond-haired man talked to... uh, well, another blond-haired man, squinting your eyes to make out what they were saying despite knowing the car you were in was too far from where there were standing to actually make out anything.

"Look, I don't know what you're talkin' about. I don't just give out my number to random women."

"Listen pal, your number and address were listed on the lady's phone as her emergency contact, so naturally, we'd come here first." the taller man explained, turning his head back to monitor you carefully. At the same time, Ransom scoffed loudly, his body slack from sleep and the cold morning atmosphere. Even though you were well off with the blond haired man's cliche-enough brunette boyfriend — who volunteered to stay back with you — you could never be too sure after the night you three just went through. "Now, there's only one Hugh Ransom Drysdale who lives in this area, and you've got a pretty unique name for us to actually miss it."

"Now, if you weren't with hobo trash what's-his-face, I'd think you were flirting with me, Captain Rogers," Ransom smirked sleepily, suppressing a yawn behind his fist as he leaned on the wooden doorframe of his house, not bothering to tie up the fluffy white robe he had thrown on upon hearing the doorbell ring throughout the house, a bitter scowl resting on his face as he thought it was Linda, his mother, coming to run her mouth on things he couldn't give two shits even if he tried. He never thought he'd stand face-to-face with the former Captain America in all his sexy glory, asking for him.

And here this fucker was, giving off a full view of his smooth chest, showing off the few minimal tattoos he had inked by his hip and pecs. "Couldn't have just taken her home like a normal pair of guys at a bar, could you?"

Steve cocks an eyebrow up confusingly. "Pardon?"

The younger blond rolls his eyes, rolling his neck and shoulders back to release some tension in his bones. "You could have just taken the girl home with you two; why'd you have to take her to me? And— and just because she has my contact info doesn't mean she's my girlfriend or anything. I don't even have a fucking girlfriend. For all we know, she could be a fuckin' stalker."