#Knives Out Fanfic

[dbnightingale24]

The Dog House Isn’t The Best, But It Can Still Be Our Home

Final installment to 'Pavlov's Dog'

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Part 3

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I told you guys I'd post it at some point 🥴 I'm honestly so sorry this took so long to post, but last year got really dark for me and everything just kind of took a backseat. Thank you so much for your patience, and thank you to all of you who checked up on me. It means more than I'll ever be able to express. Thank you @fuckingbye for being an amazing friend, and for also making this amazing moodboard. You are a saint and I love to the ends of the earth. Without further ado, here's the final chapter!

Word Count: 71,942 (yes, you read that correctly)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY), Public Sex, Semi Public Sex, Drinking, Smoking, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Angst, Heartbreak, Mild Violence, FLUFF, Lying, Betrayal...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: Will You Take Me Back In The Morning If I Promise To Never Act This Way Again?

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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“You can’t keep going on like this, babe,” Daisy sighs sympathetically as she takes a seat next to the bathtub.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrug as you take a drag of your cigarette, “none of it fucking matters.”

“Babe, it’s been two weeks. You do the same thing every day. You get up, eat the smallest bit of food, you sit out on your back deck and smoke until you decide to start drinking, then you draw yourself a bath and drink and smoke in it until you decide it’s too cold, or I come and get you. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I don’t even have a reason to be mad at him, do I?” you scoff incredulously before taking a drag from your cigarette, “it’s not like he lied. He didn’t even know, so I have no reason to be this upset, do I?”

“He was a complete and total asshole,” she states firmly, “and you have every reason to be upset with his actions. Yeah, it was a shit show, but he definitely could’ve handled it better.”

“The shit he said right in front of that child, even if it isn’t his, were so fucking cruel! No child deserves to be spoken to like that, and he of all people should know that!”

“Babe-”

“After everything we talked about on that trip...it’s like it didn’t even matter to him. He didn’t even care.”

“I’m sure he was just shocked-”

“That’s not an excuse, Dais.”

“I never said it was, but c’mon: it’s Ransom. You really think he was thinking clearly? Linda and Marta were there and I’m more than sure he was afraid of losing you, then Marta drops a fucking bomb on him, and it sounds like she did it on purpose, if I’m honest. Just to fuck him over.”

“Daisy, I just-”

“BABY, PLEASE ANSWER THE DOOR AND TALK TO ME!” Ransom calls desperately as he bangs on your front door.

Like clockwork.

“Why can’t he understand that I need time? I don’t owe him shit,” you start to sniffle as your tears fall, and you grab the bottle of tequila that lives by the bathtub now, and take a long drink from it.

“I’ll get rid of him, just please...please get up and do something,” Daisy begs desperately.

“Ya know, you’re wrong,” you say as she reaches the doorway, finally looking at her, “I put on makeup today,” you smile weakly.

She lets out a humorless laugh before disappearing and you hear her footsteps quickly making their way downstairs.

Since everything that took place on his doorstep, you haven’t spoken to or seen him. You don’t know what to say or how to handle the situation. He’s been calling and texting non-stop since it all happened, and every two days he comes by to visit, and Daisy tells him to leave you alone every time.

But you can’t keep avoiding him.

No, you don’t know what the right thing to do is, but you know that avoiding him is the wrong thing, and you can’t keep letting Daisy handle these issues for you. You have to at least speak to him, but say what? Do what? It’s not like you have any real right to be mad at him. It’s not like he cheated on Marta with you, he didn’t cheat on you with her, he clearly didn’t know he had a child so he didn’t keep it from you, and he did defend you to Linda. However, that doesn’t change the things he said to that child.

Possibly his child.

“He’s not my son and this isn’t fucking funny!”

“We can take a test if you want, but he is your son!”

“Well, I don’t want him! You wait...however many years to tell me about him, and you sure as shit don’t need any money, so why now?!”

“He deserves to know who his Father is, Ransom! He’s a Drysdale and-”

“Watch it,” Ransom warns with a foreboding tone.”

God, how could he be so cruel to a child, after all of the talks you two have had? He’s always cruel though, isn’t he? To you, to Marta, his own son (the resemblance is too strong for that boy to not to be his child), and fuck it, even Jack. He can’t ever seem to control his temper and, if he can’t do that, what chance do you two have together?

Still, he owns your heart and you don’t know how to get it back at this point. You don’t know and you don’t wanna know.

“Ransom, you have to stop coming around!” you hear Daisy yell, and you sigh before taking another drink from the bottle.

“You can’t stop me from me seeing her, Daisy! She’s my girlfriend!” 

“Bullshit! You two never made it official-”

“Daisy, stay out of it! Let me see her!”

“No! She’s not ready to see you and you can’t force-”

“I’m not forcing anything-”

“What do you think this is?! Showing up because she won’t answer your calls or texts, and demanding to see her?! Leave her alone!”

“You can’t stop me-”

“Let him in!” you call, lighting a cigarette as you use your tip toes to turn the water back on, and heat up your water just a bit.

Who the hell knows how this is gonna go?

You hear the both of them speedily stomping up the steps, but Daisy get there first and says, “are you sure? You don’t have to-”

“I can’t keep letting you fight my battles,” you smile weakly at her as you turn the water off.

“Babe-”

“I have to deal with this at some point. I can do this,” you all but mumble not believing yourself as you take a drag of your cigarette.

“I’ll be in the room over,” she sighs softly before turning, “fuck you Drysdale!”

“Fuck you!”

You hear her slap him and shake your head. Nothing can ever be simple, can it?

“Sweet Thing, please-” he starts as soon as he makes his way into your bathroom.

“Ransom...don’t,” you quickly interrupt. “This isn’t just some small disagreement.”

“I didn’t even know I had a child!”

“I could’ve dealt with that, Ransom! It would’ve taken some time, but I honestly could’ve dealt with that! It’s the way you spoke about him in front of him!”

“I don’t want him!”

“You didn’t have to say it in front of him! Jesus, it’s not his fault that you’re a selfish bastard! He didn’t ask to be born, and Marta-”

“She did this out of spite! Not because she wants me to be apart the child’s-”

“Be that as it may, he didn’t do anything! Basically telling her that she has no right calling him a Drysdale, when he is in fact a Drysdale! Ransom, I know you’re rough around the edges, but for fucks sake! All the talks we’ve had about our own fucked up childhoods and you do this?! You just...I don't fucking get it with you, Ransom!”

“What is there to get?! We fucking talked about this, Y/N! I’m not-”

“That’s no excuse for this! You took it too far and I...Ransom, I can’t-”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” he warns as his eyes start welling up with tears. “Don’t you fucking say that to me!”

“Ransom...I love you, but I can’t be the only good thing in your life. The only person you like,” you sob, sitting up and ashing your cigarette in the ash tray resting on the little table near by.

“WHY NOT?!”

“It’s too much fucking pressure! It’s too much pressure, and I can’t keep watching you be terrible to people because you had a rough childhood! You having a rough go of it doesn’t mean you get to walk all over people for the rest of your life!”

“Listen, give it a few days and you’ll see-”

“No, Ransom. This is done. I can’t do this with you anymore. You have to grow up at some point, and I refuse to mother you.”

“Y/N...you’ll see...you don’t mean it. You always say you’re done and you come back-”

“I can’t anymore. All of this just hurts too much. You keep finding new ways to hurt me, even when you don’t mean to, and I just...you’re cruel, Ransom. You’re cruel, you’re a bully, and you will hurt anyone by doing anything. I know there’s good in you, because you’ve let me see it time and time again, but you refuse to let others in, even in the slightest and I just...please don’t call me anymore,” you sob pathetically. “Don’t call, don’t text, don’t come by...we’re done.”

“You don’t mean this-”

“Don’t make it harder than it has to be, please. Just let me go,” you beg softly as you wipe your eyes.

“You’ll see. In a week or so, you’ll see and I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait and everything will be as it should, again,” he smiles weakly, wiping his own eyes.

“Ransom-”

“I’ll call you in a few weeks, okay, Sweet Thing,” he promises, making his way over to the bathtub. “I love you and I’ll talk to you.”

He cups your face and kisses you passionately and you’re so tempted to pull him into the tub with you, but you know you’ve got to stop. You left one toxic relationship just to jump into a different type of toxic relationship.

“Ransom,” you breathe once you two break apart, “please-”

“I’ll talk to you in a few weeks,” he promises with a sniffle before standing up and walking out.

“Ransom-”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” he repeats, his voice cracking as he continues on his way out.

Daisy is back inside and by your side instantly, climbing into the tub and holding you close as you cry uncontrollably, as you try to come to terms with the choice you’ve just made. Yeah, he’s right in saying that you always come back, but that’s not the case this time.

You need to stay away from him for good.

The fact that he has it in his head that all of this will be sorted out in a few weeks, lets you know that this is only the calm before the storm. As both you and Daisy lean back into the tub, and she holds you close while you cry into her shoulder, there’s only one question going through your head:

How the hell are you supposed to quit the love of your life?

**

4 Years Later...

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You can read the rest of the story here

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taglist: @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @companionjones, @autumnrose40, @fuckingbye, @pono-pura-vida, @nomadstucky, @mazda098, @chemtrails-club, @bree-lyrie, @mjey12, @charlottiedawson, @fenixstar , @thickania

[bits-and-babs]

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭 || 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

IMPORTANT! This fic was written with ONLY Knives Out as it’s source material, I haven’t yet seen Glass Onion. I have since been made aware 1000+ words into this fic that Benoit is gay as of the second film. I didn’t want what I had to go to waste. This is the only time I will write for him in a m x f relationship.

Summary: You introduce Private Investigator Benoit to Cluedo

Word Count: 3.1K

CW: FEMALE READER. Please see explanation above. sassy Benoit. Vague references to a mild age gap relationship, easter egg references to Knives Out film 🤭 Nylon Kink. A bit of knife play. Oral, f receiving.

Tease: “On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”

“You’ve never played Cluedo?!”

Shock permeates each syllable of your parroted sentence, your jaw slack as you stare at your partner with complete incredulity. Benoit, in turn, peers vacantly at you like you’ve said something ridiculously dense.

“Ain’t that what I just said?” He asks you, his monotonous voice lacking any true irritation as he taps the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table between you.

“Nah, we’ve gotta fix that,” you insist, slapping your palms on your knees before raising from your armchair. Benoit peers over the rim of his tortoiseshell glasses, and his icy-blue eyes follow your body across the room.

“Now— Dear, you’ve worked a long shift; you can’t be runnin’ around playin’ detective with me,” he tries to reason with you, attempts to talk you down from the inevitable shitshow that was no doubt about to unfold in the shape of solution cards and miniature murder weapon props. It’s all fruitless, though, because you’re sweeping aside Benoit’s beloved ashtray and ignoring his protestations as you drop the board game’s box onto the coffee table.

Yes, you’d slogged a nine-hour shift and hadn’t had time to change into less formal attire. Your pencil skirt bunches up your thighs, and the button-down blouse collar lies taut against your throat. Hell, your nude tights are beginning to itch too, but you’re far too invested in this ridiculous adventure and refuse to turn back at the sound of Benoit’s listless objections.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself, sliding the lid off the cardboard box and electing to ignore the heavy sigh that Benoit hopelessly attempts to conceal. He leans forward to put out his cigar in the ashtray you had unceremoniously discarded on the wooden floor, eyeing you as you set out the board game items and distribute each piece evenly.

“Who would you like to play as?” You ask, offering out the coloured tokens in your outstretched palm.

Benoit peers at each of the six shades of plastic pawn figurines, his expression betraying his evident discontent. “You know I do this for a livin’, don’t you, Dear?”

Your scowl in retaliation to his query has Benoit snatching up the green token from your hand and setting it on his end of the table. Again you smile as though he’d never spoken and choose red for yourself. Reverend Green and Miss Scarlett.

Carefully, you shuffle the weapon, suspect, and room card decks. Then, as discreetly as possible, take the top card from each pile and put them into the murder envelope without peeking at the details on the other side.

Finally, ignoring the obnoxious sighs rattling in Benoit’s chest, you hand out the Clue cards. Five cards each for you and Benoit, four apiece for the pair of ghost hands; purple and blue. You pinch the dice between your forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your lover's face. “Odd for purple, even for blue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he responds, clearly finding the process tedious already but suffering through for you. Your eyes are alight with excitement, a grin permanently fixed on your lips. How was he to say no? In fact, he found himself amused by your enthusiasm to understand his line of work— even if it was through juvenile means.

“Alright!” You giggle, rolling the dice to move your scarlet pawn token forward. “Let’s begin!”

-✩-

Chimes sound from the mahogany grandfather clock situated in the corner of Benoit’s living room. They’re almost deafening in the silence that has befallen the coffee table. Although it feels like moments, you realise the minute hand has completed a revolution of the face of the timepiece — You’ve been playing for an hour. You’re no closer to identifying the killer than you were sixty minutes ago.

Benoit appears bored to tears, chain-smoking cigars and even leaves his seat at one point to obtain a glass of whiskey. To the amusement of both of you, you hadn’t noticed his absence, too wrapped up in the game to realise he’d gone AWOL.

“Now, Darlin’,” he begins, cutting both the stillness of the room and your acute concentration with his southern drawl. “Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night? It’s gettin’ awfully late—“

“Benoit,” you whine petulantly, noting the wince it earns you from the older man. He certainly looks like he’d acquired a few more silver hairs since you began this wretched game. “I want to finish it.”

“Mhmm…” Benoit pushes his spectacles up his nose, glancing over the board with mirth, “I knew a man who wouldn’t admit defeat in a board game. Know what happened?”

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised in question.

“He died.”

“Benoit!”

Exasperated, Benoit turns his black cards over, revealing his weapon, room and character. He raises his hands in defeat, settling back in his seat and officially ruling himself out of the game. “There, you only gotta look at two suspects… You're not much of a detective, are you?”

“You‘ve solved it already, haven’t you?!” You gasp, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes and dismay. He answers with a firm nod of his head. Perhaps it was foolish of you, but you really thought you’d established egalitarianism with a board game. “Well, go on, how did you know?”

Benoit inhales, opening his mouth to speak and finally put an end to this ridiculousness. “Well, now, I—“

“Wait!” you shout out, holding a hand up as though it would physically restrain the syllables of his deduction from leaving his lips. “I’ll figure it out myself!”

Sullenly, Benoit sinks back into his armchair, admitting defeat and allowing you to play out your inspector fantasy. He pouts for a few moments, watching you furiously exert your mind with the evidence before dragging his gaze over your uniform.

A quiet man, reticent in nature, Benoit rarely discussed his appreciation for your work apparel. Yes, the pencil skirt was lovely and hugged your body well, and the blouse accentuated your bodily aesthetics, but it was the tights that really captured his imagination.

In truth, Benoit was fascinated with your nylon wardrobe and could go so far as to say it was somewhat of a sexual preference. A kink. He enjoyed the sleek look they gave your legs, their shine underneath lights. Once, the feel of your stockings in his hand as he held your foot up to aid in fastening one of your heels had set him alight.

Gazing at your legs, folded over one another as you attempted to piece each clue together resentfully, Benoit felt heat rise under his collar. The nude tights you were wearing are perfect, sheen delicate beneath the faux-candelabra light fixtures. There’s not a tear, ladder or hole in sight.

He planned to amend that.

Benoit lifts himself from his seat, skirting the coffee table easily and approaching you with long strides. You momentarily glance up from the clue card in your hand, scowling to yourself as he advances. “So embarrassed with my detective work that you’re retreating to bed, Mr Blanc?”

“On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”

Momentarily, your mind works like an old television with a crooked aerial antenna. Static fizzles between your synapses, and you cannot come up with a retort to Benoit’s cheeky inference.

“Best keep your mind on the case, detective,” he murmurs, palms settling on your ankles and tracing up the sides of your calves, “We wouldn’t want the killer gettin’ away now, would we?”

You swallow thickly, holding the cards with shaking hands as you feel Benoit place a lingering kiss on the inside of your knee. He skirts the tip of his nose up the inside of your thigh, humming softly as he squeezes the meat of your calves in his hands.

Focus. Focus. It couldn’t have been Benoit; he’s rescinded his cards. So, it was one of the Ghost Hands. Blue was suspicious, and you’d already discovered she was carrying a wrench. However, she had a decent alibi… Meanwhile, you had barely anything on Purple.

You roll the dice again, the face showing a two rather than the hand glass you had been hoping for. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to rake over the evidence, only to be interrupted by your vision swimming suddenly.

Benoit’s nose notches against your clit through your tights, his head practically buried beneath the fabric of your skirt. He groans softly, inhaling the scent of your sex. You whimper, the edges of his glasses pressing against the junction of your thigh as he presses a delicate kiss to your slit through your panties.

“Do me a favour, Dear,” he breathes against your thigh, pressing kisses to the nylon fabric. He doesn’t have to state what he wants from you explicitly. Fumbling with clumsy hands, you set the cards down quickly on the armrest and pull the hem of your skirt over your hips to give Benoit better access.

“Much obliged,” he whispers to you, and you can hear the gratuitous smirk playing on his lips. Attempting to ignore him and focus on the cards, you endeavour to read the clue, which is written in plain English. You haven’t yet fully deciphered it, thanks to Benoit’s tinkering.

He has other plans, though, nipping at your skin through the fabric of your tights. You jolt slightly with each bite he gives you, and you can hear him chuckle beneath you.

“Anythin’?” Benoit teases you with a combination of kisses and nibbles trailing up your thigh. It takes a moment for your answer to form on your tongue, toes curling in your heels.

“Mhm- N-Not yet,” you stumble over your words despite your attempt to conceal your evident appreciation for his affections.

“Hmm,” he hums, the rumble in his chest setting your hair on end as he, once again, presses lingering kisses over your panties. “I feel a noose tightenin’.”

Everything inside you freezes, and you’re quick to glance at the miniature weapon icons. The rope lays dead centre of the pile, and you’re forced to reconsider everything. Was Benoit giving you a hint?

Admittedly, you don’t have time to contemplate. As you open your mouth to question him, Benoit sucks on your clit through your panties. Your line of questioning dies in your throat, instead coming out as a strangled ‘Ahhh~’.

As quickly as he offers you the blissful sensation, he’s stealing it away. He pulls back, sitting on his haunches, and you’re blinking back your arousal to see him clearly. “W-Why did you…?”

Benoit hushes you gently with a wicked smile. “I think you should focus on the case.”

Smug bastard.

Filled with the desire for retribution, you cast your eyes back to the clue cards in your hand. They’re slightly creased now due to the tight grip you’re holding them with. You manage to make out the words ‘Name One…’ before a clicking sound pulls your attention away yet again.

The glint of light reflecting off the blade in his hand had your heart seizing. Not in fear, no, but exhilaration. See, Benoit carried the flip knife on his person always. It was less of a weapon for self-defence than a family heirloom, and Benoit never took it out without good reason. Simply asking to see it would not gain you access to the elusive dagger.

Your breath hitches, adrenaline buzzing down your spine.

“Now, hold still,” Benoit insists, impossibly blue eyes gazing up at your face through the lenses of his glasses. You nod quickly, both showing him you are listening and urging him forward with his plan.

You watch as he leans forward, slipping the knife's point into the nylon at your crotch. Utterly motionless, you whimper as your lover pulls the handle upwards and slices through the fragile material with ease.

“Been wantin’ you to keep these fine stockin’s on …” Benoit whispers against your thigh, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh there as he closes the knife with a click and slips it back into his pocket.

“H-Huh?” You tremble beneath his affections, his lips travelling further up the inside of your legs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Case, Detective,” he replies flatly, sliding the pad of his index finger against your slit through the cotton of your panties, “You’re deducin’ a murder weapon— it’s in plain sight.”

“Right,” you nod dumbly, swallowing back your arousal and glancing at the board. The box said the game was suitable for ages eight and up; surely it shouldn’t be this difficult. There had to be evidence you had overlooked. Your notes are settled on the coffee table, and you venture to decipher the evidence as you take up the booklet with trembling hands.

But then Benoit is hooking his finger inside the crotch of your panties, pulling the fabric to the side and exposing your sex. You almost drop the notepad on his head. “How ‘bout you take me through your notes, Dear Detective?”

You would, God, you absolutely would if you could. However, Benoit’s tongue drags against your slit, and your mind goes numb, buzzing as though it has a pins-and-needles sensation. He hums, amusement lilting his voice as he watches you struggle.

Overwhelmed, you completely forget about the game of Cluedo, tilting your head over the back of the chair and sliding your fingers through the greying man’s hair. The notebook falls from your hand, clattering against the wooden floor but you’re already too far gone to care.

Eager to please you further, Benoit is gripping your thighs, lifting them so they settle on his shoulders. The nylon tights rub against his neck this way, and you’re sure it spurs him on because he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit. It jolts your body forward, and that maddening chuckle sounds between your legs again.

“Now, Darlin’,” he croons, and you’re whining due to the lack of friction already, “You be careful. The killer’ll be gettin’ away.”

You choke on an apology, Benoit burying his face into your cunt and sucking at your clit keenly. He’s swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue, one, two, three times, and then dragging over the seam of your sex to lap up your slick.

Not only was the man eloquent, but he was also persuasive with his tongue. Trembling in your seat, you sob out as your muscles tense against it. Your legs twitch against the shoulders of his suit, and you arch your hips up to grind against his face.

“Detective,” he prompts you, and you suck in a breath like you’re coming up for air after being suspended in water. Your eyes roll back, and you try to focus hard on what it is he’s requesting of you.

“Hngg- B-Blue has a go-good alibi—” you let out an obscene whine, the wet noises of his tongue dragging against your soaked pussy diverting you from the task at hand.

“Mhmm?” He hums, and the vibration has you bucking against his face again, sobbing out his name in a broken whimper.

“A-And I’m not sure about Purple!” You squeak out. God, it’s so messy. You’re soaking his face, and you’re sure you can see your slick glossing up his nose and chin. If you stained the seat, you’re not even sure he’d mind; the blues of his eyes engulfed by the black of his pupils.

It’s a wave of pleasure building, teasing at your abdomen and throbbing through you with each pulse of your heart. You inhale deeply, feeling it tease at the edges of your skin. You’re devastated, overpowered by the ecstasy clawing at the base of your spine— you don’t even notice what it is you’re saying.

"I-I-It was the- ohhhh fuck, Benny~" you sob out, tears rolling down your cheeks, “It’s you— Hgnn fuck!-!”

"Hm? Use your words, dear. You're makin' an accusation, you know. Don't want to slip your words now." He’s entertained by your bewilderment, “Especially when the person you’re accusin’ has given you a damn good alibi.”

You’re so far gone that you’re not even embarrassed that you’d just implicated the one person you could be sure wasn’t the killer. Swallowing sobs, you watch as Benoit circles your clit repeatedly with his tongue, eyes staring straight up at you and watching you come apart.

It all happens so fast. Your toes are curling in your shoes as the cramping sensation of your oncoming orgasm takes hold. One of your shoes falls off and clatters to the floor, and Benoit places the flat of his palm against your pubic bone.

“Oh God-!” You choke out, whining as he continues with the devastating pattern he’s drawing. “I’m gonna— Shit, Benny, it’s—“

He’s nodding without removing his mouth from you as though he’s telling you ’I know’. It’s shoving you right off the edge, those beautiful blue eyes blinking slowly and taking in every inch of the image of ecstasy on your face.

It pulses right between your legs, throbbing against his tongue like a pulse. You scream out his name, all of the muscles in your body tensing so hard that you’re cramping. Your vision goes white, and you’re gripping Benoit’s hair so tightly that you’re surprised you don’t rip any out.

You’re suspended for a moment, and then everything melts away, every inch of your body melting against the plush of the seat. Distantly, you recognise the smile against his lips, pressed to your skin.

“… Who was it?” You slur like you’re drunk on the dopamine he’s just overdosed you on. He laughs heartily, and you can’t help but smile with him.

“Blue.”

“Fuck!” You gasp out, palms covering your face and digging your nails into your hairline. As if! “When on earth did you figure that out, Benny?”

He sits back on his knees, pulling the handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping his chin and nose to remove the slick you had rubbed onto him. “Mhmm… Why, I figured it out the moment you laid out the cards.”

You scoff now, disjointedly sitting up in your chair. The muscles of your arms are like jelly, and you struggle to raise yourself. “Are you that good that you could tell at first glance?”

Again, a smug smile plays at the edge of Benoit’s lips, his eyes flicking up to your face.

“No… I simply saw the cards you drew.”

END

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[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 9

Summary:  Ransom falls in love

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, mentions of sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  5.8K

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*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

Harlan wakes from his hospital bed to see you lean over on Ransom fast asleep.  While Ransom had been asleep as well, now he was making shapes on the back of your hand that was in his using his thumb.  Soft motions to keep you as cozy and comfortable as possible.  Ransom’s blue eyes move all around your face as he takes you in.  You two were supposed to be watching Harlan, but he was now watching you.

You seem at peace, and ease, even as you lean over on Ransom.  But his grandson was absorbing something he hadn’t felt much of in his life, love.  Ransom was content, but more than that, so much more.  He was falling head over heels in love with a woman.  One who didn’t pursue him, one who hadn’t slept with him after the first meeting, one he hadn’t grown tired of.  

He was treating you like some precious stone.  His hand holding yours gently, while his arm around your shoulders were keeping you warm, and simultaneously bringing you even closer to him and his heart.  The both of you were fools for trying to deny this.  This, that was much more than just physical attraction.  Ransom valued you, and your opinions.  He cherished you, and randomly brought you up in conversation.

Harlan had doubted that Ransom even knew what he was feeling.  Love was a foreign feeling to his grandson.  He assumed he would be confused or repulsed by the emotion, but Ransom was surprisingly embracing it, craving it, and continuing to nurture it.  Ransom didn’t want to wake you, because he didn’t want this moment to end.  

Ransom didn’t even know he had the power to make these moments happen all the time.  He just knew that you were becoming a delicate flower he wanted to protect, and he wanted to bask in your presence.  “Ransom?”

“Shh, please, don’t wake her,” he says, barely audible.

“You two need to go on home.”

“If I wake her,” Ransom’s words get lost in his throat as you snuggle more into his warmth.  You hadn’t had a sleep this good in so long, and your body is refusing to let you wake.

“Son, you don’t have to lose these moments.”

“She deserves so much more than me,” he chokes out.  Looking up at his grandfather he sighs.  He didn’t want to lose you, and also didn’t believe he was worthy enough.

“And you deserve so much more than you allow yourself.  Don’t let them win.”

“Them?”

“Your parents.  Not all marriages are like that.  I wanted more for my daughter, still do.  Her bitterness from her loveless marriage has spilled out onto you, and you don’t deserve that.  I had a beautiful marriage.  One where I adored your grandmother, and would have done anything for her.  Ransom, don’t push her away because you’re scared,” Ransom shakes his head slightly, unsure of how to respond.

“You are scared, because you feel something real.  It’s right there in front of you, and isn’t a fairytale.  She enjoys time with you, and not your money.  She talks with you, and doesn’t ignore you.  She’s stood up against your parents for you, refusing to see your flaws that they are too quick to bring up.  That woman adores you.  Don’t push her away.  Now, go fetch my hospital nurse.  I’m ready to go home, and I’m sure Bunny is more than capable, considering Nurse Pricks-A-Lot burst a vein.”

“Yes, sir,” he takes a final look at you, before sliding you off his shoulder.  Smiling down at you when your eyes stir, and you begin to yawn, sitting up, and immediately look at Ransom with a soft smile.  “The boss is demanding that it’s time to go home.”

“Well, we better get him home then,” home.  Taking Harlan home.  The two of you.  It sounded good, and even better coming off your lips.  “Go on, I’ll see that no one comes in stabbing at his arm again,” you weren’t upset that you had been on Ransom’s arm asleep.  Didn’t even give it a second thought.  Ransom wasn’t sure if it was because you were comfortable enough or because you wanted to be there.  He also didn’t care as long as you were comfortable.

“Get me out of this bed, and help me get dressed.  Grab my shoes, please.”

“Harlan, you have to be discharged first,” Harlan could be one of the most stubborn people.  When he made up his mind to do something, it would be done.

“No, I want out of here.  I can’t fathom having another nurse besides you.  They were horrible.”

“They were fine,” he shows you the deep bruising on his arm, and sure you are lying, but you wouldn’t admit to it while you were in the hospital.  You were too attached to Harlan, and watching them not treat him with the same care you would hurt your heart.  “Fine, they left a lot to be desired, but you still have to be discharged.”

“I want you to stay at the estate.”

“Nope, I have an apartment that is perfectly fine.  It helps me separate work and home,” this has always been your philosophy.  You wanted your home to be your safe space.  

“I want you to move closer to the estate then.  There’s apartments a few miles from me.”

“And those apartments are significantly above my price range.”

“Let me pay the difference,” you shake your head no.  Harlan was persistent and normally got what he was wanting, but you were not going to be some kept woman.  You agreed to a wage, and that was that.  “Then I’m giving you a raise.  I want you closer.”

“No.”

“Fine, I have a small house at the edge of my property.  No one has lived there in years.  It needs work.  It’s quite small.  But it’ll have everything that you need, and even bring you closer.  It’s about the size of your apartment.”

“The small house that sits beside Ransom’s?”

“Now that you mention it.”

“Why do you need me closer?  And is it closer to you or closer to Ransom?”

“I want you closer because I’m scared I’ll collapse again.”

“I’ll make sure that you get enough water.  Dehydration is going to kill you someday.”

“Bunny, I want you closer because you’re alone in this city.  You leave me and sit in a shitty apartment alone, and eat your microwave food that is too high in sodium, and it’s nasty.  Please say yes.  Let me give you more of a social life,” Harlan’s family isn’t what you would call the best of friends.  But Harlan, himself, was such an interesting man.  “How do you know where Ransom lives?”

“When I took you to the Museum of Fine Arts you made a decision to point over to a house, and said, that’s where Ransom lives.  And then pointed at that little house, and said, ‘I own that.  It needs work, but it would be better than a dusty apartment’,” Harlan gives you a little chuckle.  He wasn’t subtle.  “How much work are we talking about?”

“A good clean out.  Really good.  It’s terrible. Was a bit of storage.  But everything works.  I believe.  Come to think of it, you could just live…”

“No.  Fine.  I clean out this house, then what?”

“You don’t have dinner alone.  You enjoy conversation, and you become more than just, Bunny, my nurse.  You become someone that my granddaughter can look up to.  Or someone that my grandson would pay attention to.”

“Quit bringing up Ransom,” it wasn’t that Ransom was bad.  Ransom was good.  Too good, but you didn’t need a man, and you weren’t looking.

“I was referring to the other grandson, Jacob.  He’s the little shit that can’t keep his eyes off his phone.  He lacks social skills of any kind.”

“Wow, he sounds amazing.  I’m glad you told me about him.”

“Plus, I think it’s time for my family to meet the woman that has been taking care of me.  The woman that both me and my grandson enjoy spending time with,” you dramatically roll your eyes at him, grabbing up his clothes for the departure he was determined was right now, “You better stop that.  Deny it all you want, but you and Ransom enjoy time together.”

“Me and Ransom enjoy you.”

“Uh huh,” Harlan gives you a grin, slinging his feet over his bed, “That’s why you two had continued a conversation outside, while I had walked in, and you didn’t even notice.”

“You…you were…you snuck away.”

“Yes, I snuck.  And you and he were giggling.  Ransom Drysdale giggled, and you made that happen.  I was a burden and wasn’t adding to the conversation, I saw myself out for you.”

“Get dressed, before I call you an old man.”

“You better watch your mouth, Bunny.”

“What did she say to you, Harlan,” he wasn’t gone long, but you did miss his face.  No.  You can not get involved.  You are working.  He is the grandson of your employer, and you have sworn off men.  You can not miss him.  He was hardly even gone.  

“That she was going to call me an old man.”

“Well, you are.  I did give her permission to call you that when I wasn’t around.  It is my name for you after all.”

“I didn’t ask for permission though, Drysdale.”

“No, you didn’t,” his eyes roam up and down your body, and you have to turn away.  If he was closer to you, Ransom would feel the heat radiating off your cheeks, and even your chest.  This could not happen.  You can not be openly flirting with Ransom, and not in front of Harlan.  But it flowed, and was natural.  And you liked it.  You liked it too much.

“What does that even mean?” Linda asks, taking a drink of her wine as her eyes stare down the table at you.  You wish you hadn't agreed to dinner with the family.  Even if it was only Linda, Richard, Ransom, and Harlan.  Instead of the many annoying conversations there could be, there was only the one, and Linda had caught what you and Harlan had said.  

“What does that mean?  You’re going back to Montana?”

“It means I’m going home to Montana?”

“We don’t pay you to fly back home.”

“I’m not taking a check, but you don’t pay me anyways,” Linda’s tongue clicks in her mouth, and Harlan gives you a sly smile, while Ransom obviously, accidentally kicks at your foot.  Obviously it was on accident.  “It’s not permanent.  It’s Thanksgiving.”

“My father’s health doesn’t change for the holidays.”

“And Harlan said that I could go.  Again, Linda, with all due respect, you don’t sign my check, Harlan does.  I work for him.  I ask him for time off.  If he needed me, I would stay.  I’m going home to Montana for a week, and I’ll be back by the following Monday.  It’s not that complicated.”

“What’s in Montana anyways, Bunny,” Richard enunciates his words carefully, and you’re not sure what to make of it.  You didn’t even like either of them, and didn’t understand where Ransom could have even come from.  He was nothing like his creepy father or bitchy mother.

“My family.”

“If you enjoyed your family so much why would you move all the way to Boston and land in a relationship with a very wealthy family.  I know you’re the reason that Harlan’s will was changed, you vicious little…” Harlan’s fist slams on the table, and you lift your napkin to lay it down.  You could tell when you weren’t wanted.

“Now that is enough.  She is my guest, and you will treat her with respect,” Linda begins opening her mouth as you stand, “No, you will not utter another word.  She asked for that week off to visit, and I am the one who told her that it was an excellent idea.  That is enough.  Bunny.  Bunny?”

“I’m sorry.  If you’ll excuse me,” you can’t even look at any of them.  You just want to get out of there.  You needed air, and to be away from them.  Walking into one of the sitting rooms, you slump down on a couch.

“Ransom,” lifting your head up, you see Greatnana Wanetta looking at you, pointing.  “Ransom is happy.”

“Wanetta, I thought you had gone to bed.  Do you need help?”

“Ransom.”

“He’s having dinner.  Would you like me to push you in there?” Shaking her head, and motioning you with an arthritic finger to come towards her, you stand, going to her side.  “What is it, Wanetta?”

“Ransom is happy,” she gives you a smile, tapping at your leg.  “I like you.”

“Crazy old woman,” your body stiffens, hearing that slimy voice.  You hated him.  “Wanetta, let the help wheel you to your room.  That’s all she’s good for.  Well,” he snickers, eyeing you up and down.  “Has he actually gotten to taste you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Play coy.  All his girls do.  And trust me, there’s many.  It’s best you not give into him, he’ll only disappoint you.  It’s all he’s good at.”

“It’s you that’s the disappointment.  Wanetta, let's get you to bed,” wheeling her out, and away from Richard, you force yourself not to cry.  It wasn’t Richard’s words.  It was the fact that Richard and Linda hated you.  You had never done anything, and they despised the ground you walked on.  

“Ransom is happy,” Wanetta looks up at you as you open the door to her room, “Because of you.”

“No, he’s not,” she still gives you that sweet smile.  A look that was telling you that she knew something you didn’t know.  “I know he isn’t what Richard and Linda believe him to be.  He’s a good man.  He’s smart, kind to people who deserve it, he’s talented with writing, and yes, he is handsome.  He just…”

“Because of you,” her old body crawls into her bed, reaching out her hand to tap you on your nose.  “There aren’t many.  There’s you.”

“Go to sleep.  I’ll see you sometime tomorrow,” that was of little comfort.  But a tiny bit.  There weren't many girls like Richard liked to often assume.  “Goodnight,” you whisper, closing the door.  Walking towards the side exit of the house, and through the kitchen, but instead find Ransom leaning up against a counter.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

“It didn’t seem like I was wanted.”

“After dad came back, he and mom left,” a silence settles between you and Ransom, and you try not to smile.  There was a warmth that radiated off him, and you want to move closer to him to feel it.  You were positive other people did not feel it, but you certainly did.  “I don’t…I don’t want you to leave for the week, but I’m also worried that you’re going to leave and not want to come back.”

“Why would you say that?”

“My family has been less than welcoming to you.”

“You and Harlan haven’t.  I’ll be back in a week.”

“What if I asked you not to go?”

His hand is twitching at his side, and you’re unsure why.  It was a long evening of trying to play nice with people that were the biggest assholes you had ever met.  “Why would you ask me not to visit my family?  Ran, it’s Thanksgiving.  I need to be with my family.”

“You’re the only one that gets to call me that.  I’m sorry about my family.”

“Don’t be.  I know you’re not like them.”

“Please, don’t go.”

“Why?  You haven’t given me a reason why.  I want to go.  I miss them.  I came here to get away, but I left behind so many good things, and most of it was my family.  I needed to come out here for me to learn about me, and to…I ran.  I ran a\way from my current situation.  It was shitty, and I don’t regret coming in here.  But why do I need to stay?”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” you gulp, and he steps closer to you.  Close enough for you to smell his warm, sweet, and still smoky scent that had weaved itself into his cable knit sweater.  A scent that you had been craving since it had lingered on your clothes from the hospital, and it was dizzying.  What was he saying?  “Please, don’t go.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.  You can stay with me, and Harlan.”

“I don’t want to stay here during Thanksgiving,” oh, that pouty face was back.  Why did that face make you want to drop to your knees and beg him for forgiveness?  “And what I mean by that is it’s a family holiday.  I should be with my family and not a job.”

“But,” one more step, and he’s right in front of you, reaching out a hand to touch your forearm, and you go weak in the knees.  “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“What do you mean by saying that?”

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head, stepping back away from you, and holds out his hand to the door.  “I mean nothing.  You should be with your family.”

“Ran?”

“No, you don’t want to be here with my family.  The others are just as bad as my parents, and if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here either.”

“You could always — always come to Montana with me?”

“Yeah?” There was that genuine smile.  The one that makes his dimple appear, and his eyes light up.

“Yeah.  Just think about it, okay?” He responds with an okay, and you start to walk towards the door.  Looking back at him one last time.  You weren’t falling.  He was just a friend, and was a good man.  That was it.

“Bunny!” You stop immediately, turning to look at him.  “Would you want to have dinner with me sometime?”

“We just had dinner.”

“No, I mean, just you and me.  Like out.  Together.  For dinner.”

“Like a date?” A smile creeps up on your face, and it was completely against your will.  Your body was overtaking your emotions that you were supposed to be in control of.  But what you do feel is lighter than air.  You hope he doesn’t dance around the question and that he answers you sincerely, because if he doesn’t you’re not sure how you can respond with a yes.  

“Yes,” thank goodness he was honest.  “A date.  Me pick you up.”

“I could walk over there.”

“No.  I can pick you up, and we can go to this really great place called…”

“Longhorn,” Ransom’s mouth turns up in a confused snarl.  “Trust me.  I know you were going to say some Michelin star restaurant.  But I want you to be in my element.  I’m always in yours.  Not everything has to be extravagant and fancy.  It can just be fun.”

“What’s at Longhorn?”

“Steak, chicken, shrimp, a little bit of everything.  And it can be my treat.”

“But I asked you.”

“Fine.  It can be your treat.  Goodnight, Ran.”

“Goodnight, Bunny,” he watches you retreat from the house, walking in the direction of your new home with the biggest grin on his face.  You had said yes.  He had built it up in his head that he didn’t deserve you, and that you would never agree to this.  But you did, and you were happy about it.  Your eyes were gleaming, and you even turn back around for a final gaze at him, and the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

“Ransom, I know you’re new to this son, but it’s cold, and dark,” Harlan peeks his curious little head into the kitchen.  His grandson was beaming from ear to ear.  “Offer to drive her home.”

“Oh, right.  Yes.  Drive her home.”

“And don’t linger.  You go home as well.”

“Yes, okay.  Right.  Don’t overwhelm her.  Don’t make her feel she has to entertain me.  Take her home, and…”

“Go,” Harlan giggles at his grandson.  Pointing out the door to see you use your phone as a flashlight.  “She’s waiting.  Or at least walk with her.  Bid her farewell and let her know you’ll pick her up tomorrow at six.”

“Yes.  Okay,” Harlan loves seeing Ransom at this moment.  He was acting like a child.  Ransom had convinced himself that you would never agree to go out with him, and now you did, and he felt like a little boy.  It was absolutely adorable.  Ransom was falling in love.

You are beautiful.  Ransom had never seen anyone as stunning as you.  He can’t even take his eyes off you.  Hated the drive to the restaurant because he had to keep his eyes on the road instead of you.  But you had turned your body towards him.  You kept your eyes on him, and a nervous hand close to him.  You smiled the whole way to the restaurant, and you are still smiling now.

Watching his every move as he glanced over the menu.  You smiled the entire time.  While he is enjoying sitting across from you, he hates that the table was keeping you too far away from him.  It was overwhelming for him to constantly hear of your life with a good family.  A family that encouraged you, and praised you and your sisters.  But they did a fantastic job of raising you.  They made it near impossible for Ransom not to fall for you.

“How’s the steak?” The giggles.  The way your hand constantly moves from the table to the side of your face, and back to your plate.  It was noisy in the restaurant, but at the same time Ransom felt like there was this bubble keeping the two of you separate from everyone else.

“It’s not bad,” he has the prettiest smile.  You had never seen him smile at anyone like this.  Hadn’t noticed his dimples before you and him had stayed with Harlan the entire time he was in hospital.  He was handsome the moment he walked into your life, but there was this beauty that you feared nobody saw but you.

“How often do you come here?”

“Here, here?” You give him a shrug, and he probes you again.  “I haven’t actually been to this one.  There’s one, not in my hometown, but close enough.  I’d go all the time with friends.”

“Dates?”

“No.  This is my first date to a Longhorn.”

“Why…how — I mean, what brought you to Boston?”

“Well,” you lay down your fork, and take a deep drink.  You aren’t sure how much information you want to divulge to Ransom.  The first date is not the best time to talk about an ex, much less an ex fiancé.  “I ran.”

“From what?” His hand reaches across the table, taking yours in his own, “I won’t judge.  I’ve made mistakes in my past, too.”

“Have you ever been engaged?”

“I’ve never even been in love.”

“I don’t think I have either,” it was shameful.  Yours and Frank’s relationship was volatile, and you aren’t exactly sure how to explain it.  It was like a tornado.  Rushing into your life, and rearranging everything.  And by the time the storm settled you were left with pieces of yourself.  You had finally felt whole and put back together being in Boston, but also so lonely.

“I don’t know if I understand.”

“The proposal was comical, and pretty sure he was doing it as a distraction.  I was in the relationship, and he was in love with something else.”

“Was she a brunette?  Or a redhead?  Maybe blonde.”

“I said something.  I was never going to come first, and I let him get away with so much.  Lost myself in the process.  Lost what it was that I wanted because he wanted to make those decisions for me.  I was always the bad guy, and he was always this great good guy.  Yeah, well, he left to go to his first and only true love, and I told him if he did, that I was gone.  He went anyway, so here I am.”

“How long ago?” Licking his lips, he tries to avoid that pouting face that you were growing so fond of.  

“Well, I’ve been in Boston nearly a year.  I left that day.  Packed up what I had, and was gone.”

“You love Montana,” it wasn’t a question, but you respond with a head nod.  “I’m not going to ask you to stay for Thanksgiving.  But it’s going to be miserable without you here.  It always is.  They’re…I don’t know.”

“They hate me.”

“No, they fear you.  They see the care you give Harlan, not wanting anything in return.  You stayed at the hospital, and didn’t get a paycheck because you weren’t working.  But you didn’t care.  You wanted to make sure Harlan was okay.  They care about his money, his properties, and what he can give them.  They fear you because you have a relationship,” you know where this was going.  Right to that pesky will that Richard and Linda always brought up.

“That will was in the process of being changed before you got here.  But it was revised since you’ve been his nurse as well.  Harlan is getting tired of people waiting for him to die.”

“He’s healthy for his age, and honestly doesn’t need me there everyday.”

“You think he wants a nurse to make sure his health is okay?  No, he wants a companion.  Sometimes I leave and do research for him.  And he’s left with his toxic children.  Nobody comes to visit him on the regular.”

“That’s sad.  They don’t even know what they’re missing.  With you either.  Ransom, you’re a good man,” snorting, he shakes his head.  His hand tries to slip out of yours, but you cling to it without thinking.  Your body is tired of you not leaning into Ransom’s obvious need for touch, you wanted him, and he was starving for you.  “You are.  Harlan thinks so, too.  Harlan’s job is studying human behavior, and he sees this great potential in you.  He adores you.  He’s not the only one.”

“Bunny, I…I don’t know how to date.  I don’t know what love is, and…”

“Neither do I.  But who said that dating equals love?  You start off as casual, and find your way to love or…well, let’s start from the first date.  I enjoy spending time with you.  Not just in Harlan’s study.  I enjoy this, and I would like to do it again.  Go on, look at the bill,” you point at the book that woman had casually dropped off, reading the table and knowing you needed to continue this moment.

“This is a joke right?” You giggle again, and Ransom wants to make you giggle all the time.  Every day.  “We should get dessert.  This isn’t right.”

“It is.  What did you think it was going to be?”

“Normally, this is the price of appetizers and drinks.  No, half an appetizer and one drink.  You’re a cheap date.  I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I enjoyed the food, so I didn’t take offense.  I also don’t really want tonight to end.  But I’m not inviting you to my place to have sex either.  I’m drawing my boundaries.  I don’t want sex right now,” heaven knows that your heart was in your pussy.  You can admit where you went wrong in the relationship with Frank as well.  You were all in the moment he was inside of you.  

“I love that idea.”

Ransom loves it a lot.  A woman that can be upfront and honest.  And if he was being honest, sex too soon made him get bored.  That’s all he wanted after the first time, and he never learns anything about his partners.  Soon they become nothing more than a late night booty call before he doesn't call at all.  You wanted him to wait, but continue on with the conversation.  He liked that a lot.

“Uh,” gasping, you sit up in the bed quickly when an arm goes around your waist.

“What?” Ransom sits up just as fast, looking around the room, already getting in protective mode.  Thinking that something had tried to hurt you.  “What’s wrong?”

“You’re…I thought someone was trying to grab me.  Did we fall asleep talking?”

“Something like that,” he groans looking over to the clock.  “It’s four in the morning.  It had to have been around two when we fell asleep.  I remember looking at the clock at 1:30.  I haven’t slept this good in ages.”

“Me neither.”

“Well, honey Bunny, why don’t you lay back down, and know that it is my arm that’s around your waist.  Only if you want to.  If you don’t, I can head home.”

“We should put something more comfortable on though, right?  Like…would you be offended if I wore…”

“Is this where you ask to wear my sweater, and I sleep in my underwear?” The giggles return, and you nod your head.  Ransom was sure that this was for the movies because it had never happened before.  “Here,” he says, taking his sweater off, and you have to look away. You weren’t expecting all that under the sweaters.  Thick veiny arms, and tits that made you envious.  “I had laser hair removal.”

“I don’t care,” you giggle, twirling your finger, motioning him to turn around.  “Don’t look,” this time a pillow gets tossed to his face, and you quickly pull your own sweater off, trading it for his.  His scent was glorious.  Mysterious and rich, and still had the sweet warmth to it.  You thought it smelled good on him, but you weren’t prepared for the smell to wrap around you like a blanket.  

Standing up, you let your skirt hit the floor, and you pull down the covers, “Underneath them, Ran.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, getting up, and taking off his own jeans.  Sweet lord.  Eyes on his beautiful face.  Eyes up.  Don’t look.  His boxer briefs were begging you to look, and you did a few times.  “I can put the pants back on,” he smirks as his knee hits the mattress.  There was the Drysdale cockiness that he was known for.

“Nope.  No, that would not be comfortable.  I have a pair of sweatpants, but they were his.”

“Do you think I’m too good to wear another man’s pants?”

“It’s just…”

“I’m the one that’s going to get to cuddle you all night long.  I’m not too worried about some ex you had to fly across the country to get away from.  And seeing how I am very tempting for you like this, it might be best for me to wear them, lest we break your rule.  Bunny, you broke up for a reason.”

“Right,” you did break up for a reason.  But Ransom being confident enough to not care that those sweatpants once belonged to Frank was attractive.  It was fucking hot is what it was.  Ransom was the one that was in your bed, and he knew it.  He wasn’t threatened by Frank or your past.  “Let me get them.”

“We can snuggle right?”

“I’d prefer that.”

“Good.  It really has been a long time since I slept that soundly.”

“Me, too.”

“Ransom,” Wanetta lifts a hand up, cupping her favorite grandson’s cheek, smiling at him.  He was so handsome, and reminded her of her husband.  He was a good boy.  “You’re in love.”

“Yeah,” months of dating had taught Ransom not to be shy about his feelings with people that wouldn’t use it against him.  “I’m so in love with her.”

“She loves you.”

“I want to marry her,” his eyes glisten as he watches Greatnana.  He wanted to find someone that he would spend the rest of his life with.  And he did.  “No, I’m gonna marry her.  I can’t keep her here though.”

“Nope.  She loves her home.”

“And she is my home.”

“The mountain air will be good for Harlan,” Wanetta coughs, pointing a tired and withered hand over to her bedside table, “I’ve not got long.  But that is for you.”

“How come you only talk to me and Bunny?”

“It’s for you,” she points again, and he slowly opens the drawer, pulling out a ring box.  He slowly lifts the lid, gawking at the antique engagement ring that once belonged to the woman laying in the bed before him.  “Take her away from here.  Take my son.  Give her the world.”

“We can’t leave you.”

“I don’t have much time left.  This place isn’t good for her, or your relationship.  Make a home in Montana.  You both deserve that.  It’ll be a new adventure for my son.”

“I’m not planning on asking her anytime soon.”

“No, but you will ask eventually.  You’ll know when the time is right.  Just keep that ring safe until then.  It’ll look beautiful on her finger.  Tell Harlan he has my blessing to leave when I’m gone.  Give her the world.  Give her you.”

“You think way too highly of me.  Thank you.  She’ll love this,” Wanetta cups Ransom’s cheek again.  She would never see her favorite person married, but she knew in her heart that you made him so happy.  You made perfect sense.  You had changed him.  Even if his parents wanted to argue that fact.  Ransom allowed himself to become the man he was always meant to be.

“You are her world, Ransom.”

Ransom fights back the tears.  He still didn’t feel he deserved you, but he didn’t want to give you a chance to realize it.  He didn’t want to leave you.  He wanted you forever.  It might not have been love at first sight, but it was an attraction that grew to respect.  

“Build a big house in Montana and have a ranch.  Out there you won’t have them ready to criticize you.”

“I don’t know how to run a ranch.”

“But he does.  That Bucky.  The only one she talks to back home who isn’t family.  Hire Bucky to set it up for you.  A home where you and she can raise your children.  They’ll have a charmed life living in the middle of nowhere.  You’ll hear their giggles as they run through the pasture,” it sounded like heaven.  He knew if he wanted to keep you he had to take you away from here.  

You described Montana as heaven.  But his heaven was being close to you.  If Montana was what you needed, it was what he would give you.  If a cowboy was what you desired, well, he would try to be that cowboy to take you away from here and closer to heaven.  

He had to get in touch with Bucky.  He had to get land bought, a house built, talk to Harlan, and right now, he wanted to find his girlfriend, and remind you how much he loved you.  Love.  Ransom had found it, and he wasn’t going to let anything take that away from him.  He would do whatever you needed from him, and being away from his family sounded like a heaven all of its own.  

“Ransom, remember,” Wanetta taps on her own nose, watching her grandson try and figure out his plan.  “You are her world.”

“And she’s my heaven.”

Next

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[wolverton]

VIRGIN MARGARITA

by tenderising & wolverton

T | Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter + Benoit Blanc/Phillip | WIP

SUMMARY:

Somewhere in Cuba at the height of summer, a man is missing and with him, a special cocktail recipe that divided the populace. The world-renowned detective Benoit Blanc is on the case with his part-time sidekick and full-time husband Phillip. On the other side of town, Hannibal Lecter—who does not yet know he is about to become a murder suspect, but would not find it all that surprising if he did—is beginning to experience the consequences of his actions in unprecedented ways. The love of his life, Will Graham, claims that karma waits for no one.

Summer domestics in the heart of Cuba, a murder mystery, and crack that is only occasionally treated seriously, brought to you lovingly in collaboration with @tenderising <3

READ ON AO3

[missuhmisery]

meg thrombey headcannons

bcs her closet is glass and she’s so gorgeous!! fem!reader but it’s rlly ambiguous sooo??

her love language is gift giving!! she mostly gives you jewellery and you two match rings<3

you get on with joni very well (bcs if she wasn’t supportive she’d get cancelled but COUGH COUGH) and she’s SOOO FUNNY but unintentionally

meg is a very good cook and makes you dinner every time you come over. her favourite thing is to bake your favourite kind of baked good.

you met her in college and you get into friendly debates all the time

she’s protective as fuck and defends you against her family when they get mouthy at you (especially jacob)

she reads a lot but is ashamed of it. you buy her books for every occasion and she writes a lot in margins.

she can go on long rants when you are alone together and it’s so endearing

she likes to wear your clothes and steals your jumpers especially all the time!!

she can play guitar and taught herself through youtube videos when she was 13. she is embarrassed of it though and won’t play it for you unless you beg her (then she will because she has a massive soft spot for you)

she says i love you first and spent a long time deciding when was the right moment.

she’s a strong advocate for midi rings. you never wore them until she told you how good they look over and over and forced you to wear hers.

she also makes you swap rings frequently. it’s how joni found out there was something going on.

can you tell i like her rings yet!?

she procrastinates her school work but gets it done so quickly it impresses you.

her perfume is burberry her because linda gifted it for christmas and she hasn’t looked back since.

okay that’s it for now but i’ll probably write more and with more clear fem!reader and also masc!reader probs

love u <3

[lettalady]

A Turn of the Knife: 18 - I'll only hurt you if you let me

[ alternatively titled: frustration ]

With your obligation to the gallery finally fulfilled, you tap out a message to Ransom, smiling to yourself as you step from the curb.

          Heading back to the hotel.

Granted, he’d told you to call when you were ready for a distraction. The offer to take your mind off the unexpected encounter with your family was – well, it was likely rooted in his boredom with his surrounding environment. He’d already claimed to have worked his way through the staff, after all.

You note the – read – receipt on your early warning message before switching your focus to getting from point A to point B in one piece. T-minus 10 minutes till you’re on your back with his voice in your ear, pushing you towards the edge.

[ read more on AO3 ]

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 1

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

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback Starts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir!” you replied quickly.

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

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

You had made your decision to leave everything behind.

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

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

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

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

Then everything changed after Harlan died.

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

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

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

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

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

Even a wolf would accept a dog into its pack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback End

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, there was a knock on the door.

'Knock. Knock.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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

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

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[krirebr]

More Than This 7

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

Word Count: ~3.9k

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

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and em dashes, non-stop continuous action (not the car chase kind, but like, the no section breaks kind), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: There's no going back now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

I cannot wait to talk to you all about this one, so please leave me a comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think! And if you need to come scream at me, that's even better!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows. You rolled over and checked the time. It was after nine. You’d slept hard—the exhaustion of everything catching up with you. And yet you still hadn’t woken up feeling rested. You couldn’t remember the last time you did.

You grabbed your phone and groaned when you saw all the notifications. Texts, missed calls, two voicemails. All from Steve. He was freaking out. 

Are you ok?

Did something happen?

Please call me

And a few more just like them. You were too tired to answer. You didn’t know how. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t ignored your messages before. You grimaced at your own pettiness. You would answer him when you knew what to say.

As soon as Lola noticed you were awake, she hopped off your makeshift bed and ran to the door, scratching at it to be let out. You sighed. Of course, the safety of your isolation couldn’t last forever. The good news was that it was late enough that Ransom must be gone. You could put that off at least until the evening.

When you opened the door, Lola at your heels, you heard someone moving around downstairs. You hadn’t thought it was a Carol day, but you must’ve lost track. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs that you saw Ransom puttering around in the kitchen, his back to you. Your stomach dropped. Shit shit shit. Why was he here? You contemplated running back into the gym, but as soon as she saw him, Lola darted out ahead of you and raced down the stairs so she could dance around at his feet. He crouched down to greet her. “Morning, Lola,” he rumbled, his voice still full of sleep. “D’you have a good night?” She hopped up and down, pawing at his leg.

You took a deep breath and gathered all of your courage. “She wants breakfast,” you said from your place on the stairs.

His head whipped up to you. He stood up awkwardly. “Oh, uh, where’s her food?”

You came down the rest of the stairs and passed in front of him into the kitchen. “I’ll do it,” you said as you went straight to the cabinet where you kept Lola’s meal supplies. 

Once you had her fed and briefly let her out the back door, you noticed multiple bags of take-out on the island. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, uh,” Ransom rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at you. “I thought we should probably have breakfast. Together. And I didn’t really know what you like, so…” he shrugged.

You quickly took stock of the food. There were diner waffles, pastries from a bakery, eggs benedict from a fancy brunch place. “Thank you,” you said. “That’s nice.” You grabbed a danish from the pastry bag and sat down at the island. “I, uh–” you started then stopped, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night. I, uh– I don’t know what happened. I– I was scared, I guess, by the–” you gestured to your stomach. “But um, I shouldn’t’ve– It won’t happen again, you know? I’m fine now. Everything’s fine.”

Ransom leaned against the counter, facing you, and closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then looked you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m so fucking tired of that word.”

You set down your pastry and looked at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re always so fucking fine, aren’t you? I ask how your day was, it was fine. I ask how you feel about something, it’s fine. I ask what’s wrong when you’re clearly upset, and you say, ‘Oh nothing, everything’s fine.’ It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s fine! I can’t hear it one more time.”

All you could do was sputter for a moment. “What– What are you talking about?! I’ve just been doing what you wanted!”

“How is this what I wanted?” he asked, his frustration shocking you..

But then, your mind started to catch up a bit and you were suddenly filled with indignation. “You told me to pack light! You– You– You made it clear! I know you don’t want me here so I’m just– I’m just trying to do what you want! I'm staying out of your way!”

He laughed and the hollow sound was so startling. “This is you staying out of my way? You’re just this presence that’s always here! That makes me feel unwelcome in my own home!”

That had you standing up so quickly that it sent the stool you’d been on tumbling to the floor behind you. A frightened Lola scampered up the stairs, her collar tinkling sharply, but neither of you noticed. 

“What?!” you shouted, “How could– I– This is your house! How could you ever feel unwelcome here? I’ve never felt welcome here for even a moment! I’m not even a guest here, I’m just this, this– I don’t know! I’m just this pest that you wish you could exterminate but you can’t. You don’t want me here and I feel it every single day.”

“Well, you’ve never told me that, have you?” He almost growled out. “I’m just supposed to know! I see you making this list in your head of everything I’m doing wrong, all the ways I’m disappointing you but you never say anything about any of it. But then when I don’t know how to fix any of it, because I don’t actually know what’s wrong, you resent me for it!” You started to open your mouth and he slammed a hand down on the island between you. “Don’t deny it. I can see it whenever you look at me. You’ve decided that I’m the villain here, right? I’m the bad guy in this story. And I don’t–” He moved his hands to his hips and looked away from you, shaking his head. “I have no idea who you are,” he said, quieter now but no less forceful. “You don’t want me to. You have me just grasping at straws and– But you’ve just decided, huh? That you know exactly who I am.”

All you could do for a full fifteen seconds was just gape at him. He looked tired suddenly. Sad, as if that made any sense at all with anything that had happened. But then you remembered everything that had happened and your anger came flooding back. “Yes, I know who you are. Of course, I do! Because you showed me! It’s like you’ve completely forgotten how we met. Or our wedding!” A tear fell down your cheek and you knew more were about to follow, ready to tip over your lashes. You wanted to wipe them away, but you also just couldn’t take the time to stop right now. “You were awful! Really fucking awful. Right from the beginning you were so cruel and– and now– No! I– How can you expect me to come to you with anything when you all but told me not to during that first dinner?! When you told me you didn’t want me taking up any space here? Or that you would get rid of Lola?! Of course I don’t talk to you! What am I supposed to talk to you about when you terrify me? When everything I have comes from you and you don’t give me anything? When you hold all of the power?!” 

“What fucking power?” Ransom shouted, throwing his arms wide. “If I had any power at all, neither of us would be in this mess!”

“It’s still more than I have! I have nothing! You’re the heir. You matter to people. I’ve only ever been a bargaining chip. And now that they’ve made the deal, no one gives a shit what happens to me. You could do anything to me, and they wouldn’t care! Even my mom–” You cut yourself off, tears choking your voice.

There was a beat of silence, and then, “Even your mom what?” Ransom asked, his voice rough. He was staring at you like the next words out of your mouth would be the most important ever spoken.

And it was only because you felt it too, everything riding on this, that you managed to say, your voice so small and your eyes downcast, “She only ever asks if I’m making you happy.”

When he didn’t say anything to that, you looked back up to find him staring at you, his eyes incredibly serious. But not angry, something– something else. Finally, he sighed and, putting both elbows on the island, said, “I’m really fucking miserable. How ‘bout you?”

You would try to examine it later, the way your instinct in that moment was to apologize or try to downplay your own feelings, your mom’s voice in your head no matter how much you hated it, but instead you took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I’m– I’ve been so unhappy.”

He nodded then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think,” he said slowly. “I think we’ve both been acting like if we just ignore this hard enough we’ll wake up one day and this will be over and our lives will go back to normal. But now with the–,” he gestured to you. “We can’t keep doing that. We gotta– We have to figure out a way to live with this.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, wrapping one arm around your stomach. You couldn’t help but look at him a little warily. Was this real? Did he mean it? “How do we do that?” 

He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know.”

You just looked at him for a moment before you were interrupted by your stomach growling loudly. “Sorry,” you said, awkwardly. “I didn’t eat much last night.”

“Right,” he said with a decisive nod, “breakfast.”

You each served yourselves from all the food he’d ordered. He righted the stool you knocked over and you both sat down to eat. You didn’t say anything, neither of you did. You figured he had just as much to think about as you did. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d said he had no idea who you were. It’d been easy, maybe, to forget that this was something that had happened to both of you, when you were in his house, facing his family, working your way into his life. It’d never occurred to you, after that first meeting, that he might want to get to know you, might want to see past all the walls you’d put up to protect yourself. But you felt like they were fortified now. You weren’t sure how to take them down.

Even though you kept your focus on your food, you could tell he kept glancing at you. You felt his eyes on you every few minutes. Finally, as you both finished up your food, he cleared his throat. “I’m an asshole,” he said quietly. “I just am. I always have been. But uh, you didn’t– You didn’t deserve that at dinner. Or the wedding. Or when I yelled at you last night. It didn’t– I don’t think it occurred to me that you’d take me, what I said, seriously. I’m not used to people listening to me, not like that.”

You stared at your plate for a moment and tried to keep breathing. “I– Of course, I took you seriously. What else would I do? I didn’t know you and I was already so scared and– How was I supposed to know you didn’t mean it?” You could feel yourself starting to cry again and wiped furiously at your eyes.

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I– I didn’t do a good job of understanding how hard this was for you. And I– I’ll try not to do that again.”

All you could do with that was nod.

“But uh– I need you to talk to me, tell me when something’s wrong. I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I’ll, uh, I won’t be mad or– I feel like the few times you’ve let yourself be upset, those are the only times I felt like I could actually see you. I want to be able to see you.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m uh,” you started, trying to find your words. “I’m used to having to put on a mask. It’s really hard for me to not do that.”

He nodded slowly. “How ‘bout,” he said, “I’ll try to be less of an asshole if you try to let yourself be more of one?”

You laughed. You couldn’t help it, it just bubbled out of you, to your own surprise. “Sure,” you smiled, “yeah. Deal.” You met his eyes and he looked proud of himself. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you have to look away. You put all your attention into taking a last bite of your food.

“So,” he said, and he sounded serious again. “I think we should talk about last night.”

It took everything in you to not shrink down. You wanted to do anything else, but he was right. You needed to. So you nodded and waited for him to start.

“You said– Well. You said a lot of things. But let’s start with– You said I keep you trapped here.”

Your brow furrowed a little bit. “Well, yeah, you only have one car and you don’t have a driver. How am I supposed to go anywhere?”

The dawning realization on his face would have almost been comical if it had been about something that hadn’t caused you so much pain. “Oh my god,” he said. “I– Why didn’t you– No, right. Yeah.” He took out his phone and started typing. “I’ll figure something out. Do you drive?”

“Steve taught me, a little, when I was a teenager. But I’m not– I’m not super comfortable,” you shrugged.

“Ok,” he said typing a few more words, then put his phone down. He looked at you very seriously and said, “Now I need you to tell me exactly what you meant about siccing my mom on you.”

“Oh, well, just that she came over, you know, the next day after I told you I wanted to find a job.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Here? She came here?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, not entirely sure what was happening. “She let herself in and said you’d talked to her about how I wanted to work and that you wanted me to focus on giving you a family. That that was my job now.”

Ransom’s face darkened in a way you’d never seen before. “Fucking–” he growled. “Goddamnit.” You watched him warily and when he made eye contact, you saw the way he worked to soften his expression. He shook his head. “I never said that. I just, I brought it up to her because she has connections, you know, in surprising places. I should have known. I was stupid. And when you didn’t bring it up again, I just, I assumed it hadn’t worked out and you didn’t want to talk about it.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to make himself calm down. “Did she say anything else?”

You looked at him carefully. It was almost like he looked different today, something about him. It really did seem like he was trying. So you took a breath and decided to trust him. “She wasn’t very nice to me. She never is. She’s– She’s only ever been awful to me.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly, “that’s fucking Linda. Alright, she comes here again, I want you to tell me. Don’t even talk to her, just call me right away. She tries to call you, you tell me. She ever says anything to you, you tell me, ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, and you didn’t know how to guard yourself from the warmth that spread through you. “I’ll tell you.”

He nodded. “Good. And if you still want to get a job, I’ll help you, ok? I want to do that.”

“Yeah, I,” you sighed, “I don’t know. Everything’s really overwhelming right now.”

“I get that,” he said, “but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” you promised. Then, when he didn’t immediately bring up another topic from the night before, you raised one of your own. “Um, you never use your gym.” He looked at you, confused, and you shook your head at yourself. “Sorry, it’s just, you have all those rooms upstairs that you never use, and well, you and I,” you rested a hand on your belly, “we did what we needed to do, right? So, uh, I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here and if it’s alright, I’d like to, uh, turn that room into my room.” 

There was a long pause, long enough for you to get uncomfortable, start to worry that you’d messed up. His face was blank, you couldn’t find any clues there. Then, finally, he seemed to shake himself and said, “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll have it cleared out for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Great! Thank you! I’m sure you’ll be happy to have your own space back.”

“Right, yeah,” he said and nodded several times. “Yeah.”   

You both got quiet again after that, but it didn’t feel as oppressive as it often had before. Eventually, you began cleaning up breakfast together. As you moved around him in the kitchen to load the dishwasher, you paused. “Hey, uh, what’d you tell your parents? About last night, dinner?”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from the fridge. “Just that I was suddenly violently ill and we couldn’t make it.”

That stopped you completely. You’d been bent over as you loaded plates, but now you stood up, giving him all of your attention. “Really? You didn’t– didn’t blame me? Or uh, tell them about–”

He finished what he was doing and closed the fridge, then closed some of the space between you. “What? No, fuck that. Listen, any excuse to not have to deal with Richard and Linda is welcome. I’m serious. Fuck them.”

That was when everything really hit you, just how badly you'd misread so much of what had happened. Of all the pain you’d suffered over the past months, how much of it had been self-inflicted? Would everything have been so much easier, for both of you, if you’d just been willing to talk to him? For what felt like the thousandth time that morning, you felt your eyes beginning to well. You tried to turn your head away, but Ransom noticed before you could.

“Hey,” Ransom said quietly as he approached you cautiously, stopping right in front of you, his hands hovering in the air between you both. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said, your voice tight. “I don’t know. I just– Everything’s just been so hard.”

Ransom sighed, heavily. “Yeah. I know.”

“Um,” you let out a defeated, embarrassed little laugh as the tears began to fall down your face. “Do you think it’s too early to blame pregnancy hormones?” you asked, as you tried to make yourself stop crying.

Instead of dismissing it as a joke, Ransom looked at you very seriously. “I think that you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

There was something about that, the way it felt like acceptance, that made the tears come even harder.

It was then, of course, that your phone started vibrating on the counter, Steve’s ID flashing on the screen. “Oh,” you said, “um, shit.” You just stared at it, not quite able to pick it up. “I, uh, texted him last night. During everything. I’m sure he’s freaking out now.”

“Right,” Ransom nodded. “Well, I’ll give you some privacy.”

You were suddenly filled with the ridiculous need to not be alone right now. “Uh, yeah, thanks. But, uh, maybe, maybe don’t go far.” Your voice dropped out a little at the end of the sentence, embarrassed.

He looked at you carefully and you couldn’t imagine what he saw. A mess, probably. “Yeah,” he said, “of course. I’ll be just upstairs. Shout if you need me.”

Then he left and you took a deep breath. The call had gone to voicemail while you’d dithered, so you called Steve back, sure he’d try again anyway if you delayed any further.

He picked up immediately. “Oh thank god,” he breathed. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just–” you began, trying to keep your voice strong. But of course, you couldn’t hide from Steve.

“Are you crying?” he asked gruffly. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not, Steve,” you lied.

“Chipmunk,” he said, sadly, knowing how hard the childhood nickname would hit you. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You closed your eyes as tightly as you could. “Nothing. It’s just–” You knew you had to tell him something but you had no idea where to start. You could tell him, you supposed, about– about the baby, but it felt impossible to say out loud. And you had no idea how he’d react. Or, rather you had a very good idea, and it was very, very bad. You didn’t have the energy for that. Or the strength and courage. Not now. Maybe not ever. But you couldn’t talk about what happened the night before and this morning without mentioning that part, so really, you couldn’t talk about anything. And you knew your brother. You knew how that would go over. “I’m tired. And I miss you.”

He was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, all he said was, “I know something happened.”

“It didn’t Steve. Everything’s fine.”

“I know you’re lying to me. Why are you lying?” He was pleading now and you were too tired and hormonal for this.

“Steve,” you pleaded right back, your voice breaking just a little. “Can you please just believe me? Just this once?”

There was another long pause, and then, “Goddammit, I hate this. I can’t– I worry about you all the time. Every time I see a missed call or text from you, my stomach drops. But now you won’t talk to me. And I can’t help you. I don’t know what to do about any of it.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “I know you think you should always be able to fix everything, but there’s just nothing for you to fix this time, ok? Please?”

He just sighed and you both quietly sat on the phone together. You didn’t know what to say to him but couldn’t hang up. Finally, he broke the silence with “I really fucking miss you.”

You smiled just a little, even as you wiped the tears from your face. “I fucking miss you too. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said quietly. He sighed again. “Ok, I should go. But we’ll talk again soon. Take care of yourself.”

“Ok,” you said softly. “Bye.” You hung up and set your phone down then put your head in your hands and let yourself cry without trying to stop it. You didn’t notice anything happening around you until you felt a weight settle onto the couch beside you and suddenly your lap was full of Lola. Then a hand gingerly touched your back. When you didn’t move away, it started gently moving up and down. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

The strangest sensation came over you. You couldn’t explain it, but as you sat there on the couch, crying while Ransom rubbed your back, you somehow felt the best you had in months.

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[dbnightingale24]

First, I want to thank everyone who has read, reblogged, or supported my stories. It means more than I’ll ever be able to put into words, truly. Without you all, I wouldn’t feel confident in launching my Patreon page! I’ll still post fanfics, but I’ll also be taking requests, and posting original stories. I hope you all will follow along, and continue to enjoy my stories! Thank you so much; you’ve given me the confidence I needed to do this. I love you!

Here’s the link if you’d like to follow along:

https://www.patreon.com/user?u=113976020&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

(It’ll be more official soon!)

@fuckingbye @emerald-evans @autumnrose40 @thickania

[bigtreefest]

A What in Church?

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader (can be read as a continuation of Meet The Parents or alone)

Summary: Ransom comes with you and your family to church…and then comes with you at church 🥴 (I’m sorry, but I had to)

Word count: 2,728

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, SMUT, near-fingering, p in v unprotected sex (pls, for the love of all that is holy, wrap it up), sex in front of a mirror, sex in a church😬, creampie, established relationship, swears, Ran is a sneaky li’l gaslighter but not towards you, lying in Church?, kissing, pet name usage, choking on one’s own saliva, implied female reader, li’l belly bulge

A/N: I hope God forgives me for thinking this up during church…

This is for the Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza set up by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18 with the prompts of characters cum together at the same time and praise.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

It was early Sunday morning when you dragged Ransom out of bed.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, come on. You have to get up. We’re already running late and I’m not dealing with disapproving looks from my parents for punctuality. It’s already bad enough every time the church ladies give me a side eye when I show up.”

He sighed as he rolled over in his high thread count sheets, the sunlight now hitting his face causing him to squint. He looked at you through one open eye as he made a light scowl.

“Sweetheart, come back to bed. It’s too early. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” A sly smirk crept onto his face as he reached out and pulled your hips closer to the bed.

You put a hand on his forehead, trying your best and failing to push him away. “Ransom, no. The only reason I stayed over was to make sure we got there on time. My parents think you’re picking me up right now and neither of us are even showered. If you get up now, maybe I’ll let you join me. Then we can get going.”

His arms snaked from your hips and around to give your ass a squeeze. “Hm….deal.” He rasped out in his groggy voice before shifting to get up.

“Whose idea was it to join your family at the 8am service of church this week, anyway?” Ransom threw the covers off the side of the bed in a mini tantrum before rising on his knees on the mattress to be face-to-face with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly smoothing out the bed head before giving him a peck.

“Yours, baby. That’s what you get for trying to impress my mom.”

You fixed your makeup in the mirror of Ransom’s Beamer and smoothed down your baby blue linen dress after Ransom parked in the church parking lot. You turned to look at him as you straightened the collar of his shirt that peeked over his sweater.

“You look absolutely dapper. The church ladies are gonna love you. Probably enough for them to keep their judgy eyes off me. Now let’s just hope they don’t start asking my mom about a wedding date.” You grumbled the last part as you brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders before leaning back towards your own seat again and placing your hand on the door handle.

Ransom didn’t move a muscle as he sat there, leaning over the center console, with a look as deep at the ocean. That was weird. You’d expected him to have his cocky game face on, which he did, but his eyes showed something different.

“What? Is something wrong? Do I not look okay? Are you regretting agreeing to come along today?”

He sighed and shook his head before holding out his hand for yours. “No, you look heavenly. I am regretting sleeping in because if I wouldn’t have, maybe you would’ve actually let me touch you in the shower. I thought a shower with you meant with you, but you tricked me, you minx.”

You softly smiled at the beginning of his statement, placing your hand in his. As he kept going, you rolled your eyes before playfully shoving his shoulder. “Oh please. You and I both know you wouldn’t have gotten up for anything else. And if I would’ve let you touch me, we’d still be at your place.”

He shrugged before pulling you closer for a final kiss before heading in. It was the kind that left you breathless and speechless, and a little dizzy when he pulled away, but that could have been due to skipping breakfast, too. Your eyes were still closed when he spoke against your lips. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this that easily, though. Now stay here while I get your door. Gotta make sure the church ladies see me treating you well.”

Your jaw dropped as he gave you a smirk, fire rising in his gaze as he slipped out of the driver’s side and over to yours.

Ransom held your hand as he walked into the church, sliding into a pew near the back where your family had saved the two of you a seat. It was just in time for the service to begin. You were simultaneously filled with relief for not being late, but also anxiousness. You knew that when he held that look in his eye, Ransom was up to no good.

If someone had asked you what you’d gathered from the sermon so far, your answer would be ‘jack shit.’ You were too focused on Ransom, and the way his hand was creeping up your leg as he stared straight ahead. He looked enthralled by whatever the preacher was dragging on and on about, but you knew better from the way his lips curled just slightly at the corners and his ringed pinky finger was sliding under the hem of your dress. The cool metal gave you chills. Your breath hitched, just as you were salivating, imagining what Ransom could possibly have in store for you. Unfortunately, that didn’t make for a good combination, as you choked on your own saliva.

You tried your hardest to hold in your coughs, eyes watering, until you couldn’t take it anymore. They burst out of you and the sound of your coughs, one after another, echoed through the nearly silent room as you scrambled to get up and into the hallway. Ransom shot your parents a sympathetic look before wordlessly gesturing that he was going to check up on you. They nodded in response, glad you had found someone so caring and responsible.

You burst through the doors at the back of the room with Ransom hot on your heels. You fast walked into the family restroom and Ransom slipped in behind you. He locked the door and made his way to your hunched over form, your arms bracing you against the sink as you continued coughing and heaving, trying to catch your breath. Ransom rubbed your back in soothing circles until you took a final gasp for air and looked up at his reflection in the mirror with a scowl.

“You did this. This is your fault, Mr. Handsy.” It came out with the slightest rasp. Ransom’s face morphed from slight concern into suggestion. Now that he had made sure you were okay, he was more than happy to have you exactly where he wanted you all along: alone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not the one out there snorting my spit. I could probably successfully swallow, unlike you.” He knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to rile you up so you’d give in to him now since you didn’t earlier this morning. You’d never outwardly crumble that easily, though. Where was the fun in that?

“First off, you should be the one to know I’m great at swallowing. And secondly, if you believe you did nothing wrong, I think we should find you a neurologist for those wandering hands. Maybe the rings are causing nerve damage and cutting off the feeling in your fingertips.” Ransom couldn’t help but let out a small chortle at that. Good one, babe. But he knew what could push you a little farther. He knew how much you really did love the way his hands wandered, even if you’d say otherwise. He could tell right now even, as he shifted to stand behind you, soft fingertips tracing up the front of your thighs and under your flowy dress. His hand was in between your thighs, creeping dangerously close to your cotton panties. He used his grip to pull you back against him, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“Oh honey, I don’t have to be able to feel my fingers to know how good they make you feel.” He ran his fingers over the dampening fabric as your breath hitched. Finally.

His grin grew wide as he slipped his pinky finger under the gusset of your panties and pulled it to the side, exposing your glistening folds to the cool air.

You hissed at the sensation as Ransom began running a finger through your wetness. If you were anywhere else but a church bathroom, he would have worked to pull even louder sounds from you than the tiny breaths and moans you were already making, but that’s not something that could be afforded right now. As his one hand continued to tease your entrance, the other moved to cover your mouth.

“Quiet, Sweetheart. You make a noise and I stop. Don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.” You nodded in acknowledgment and Ransom was satisfied with that response, kissing your temple that was collecting a thin shimmer from sweat already. Just as he was about to dip a finger in, though, the two of you heard music start. That meant service was almost over. They would play a few songs, and then everyone would rush out the doors, making it impossible for the two of you to leave the bathroom undetected and unsuspected of what was going on right now.

Ransom didn’t waste a second, though, pulling his hands off you to unzip his slacks and pull them down just low enough. His eyes locked in on yours in the mirror again, deep blue irises thin around lust and mischief-blown pupils.

“Sorry, sweetie. Don’t have time to prepare you. But you can handle that, right?” You didn’t have a chance to reply this time, as his hand found it’s place over your mouth again at the same time he fully sheathed himself within you.

The little squeak you made into Ransom’s hand when you were trying to hold back was music to his ears. Oooo, he liked that. He was gonna make sure to do whatever he could in the future so you’d make it again, but he didn’t have the time for it right now.

His hand that wasn’t over your mouth snaked to your tummy from where it was gripping your hip. Ransom could just barely feel the bulge pushing against your softness with each thrust and it drove him wild, as he sped up his thrusts and babbled into your ear.

“Yeah you can. You can take it. Look at you. Taking this so well. Being so good for me. I’d say you were an angel if we weren’t fucking like two whores in church right now.”

His vulgar words always did something to you, causing your eyes to roll back and your pussy to clench. That was Ransom’s favorite, especially when he found it out that his sharp tongue was something you actually enjoyed and rewarded him for, instead of punished. Despite his hand on your mouth, you were still working hard to keep yourself quiet, only letting out a low moan in response.

“Fuck, so good. So, gah-tight. You’re so perfect. I’m gonna take my hand off, okay? You gotta keep it down and I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You gripped harder against the sink as Ransom removed his hand, using it to hike your leg up on the edge of the counter, his hand that was previously on your stomach moving to rub your clit.

You gasped for air, before moving your own hand to your mouth. If you were at home, moans and curses would’ve been profusely spilling out of your mouth with how near your were to the tipping point. Ransom’s grunts in your ear we’re pulling you even closer to the edge when he licked your neck, the sweet taste of your perfume mixed with salty sweat hitting his tongue, and the debauchery of the gesture tossing you over the edge of your orgasm. Your knee gave out as you came, Ransom’s strong arms holding you up against the sink as you felt him swell and release in you at the same time, still rubbing your clit and shallowly thrusting for both of you to come down from your highs.

“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.” His breath was hot against your neck, but you were both pulled out of the post-orgasmic bliss by the sound of the music changing. The last song of service was playing and within a few minutes, everyone would be emerging into the hall.

Ransom pulled out of you faster than he had before, both of you moaning with oversensitivity and the abruptness of the action. You gained composure on your jelly legs before pulling your panties back into place and doing your best to fix your makeup in the mirror. Luckily, the smudges could be attributed to your coughing fit earlier, but Ransom’s rogue hairs that had flown forward and stuck to his forehead couldn’t. You quickly pushed them back into a decent position and straightened his collar before rushing into the hallway and taking a seat at an old pew that was next to a table with water bottles and cookies on it, set out for the social hour that always happened after service. Ransom grabbed a bottle and quickly chugged it down halfway, handing it to you just as the last song was ending.

“Here, hunch forward like you’re still recovering. And take this.” He was too good at convincing people of the scenes they had walked into. But how could you complain when it had gotten you out of trouble with the cops more times than you could count? Including after the two of you had been parked somewhere a little too long having car sex, or when he had driven just a little too recklessly while fingering you in the passenger seat. He always knew exactly how to manipulate the scene in his favor, convincing others to not believe their own eyes, but the stories he presented them instead. But he didn’t do it to you, never to you. He learned that the hard way, it’s better to be honest and do it with you. You were his teammate, who better to use his skills for than the one he loved? Bring it up though, and he’d deny it.

So you and Ransom sat there, your elbows on your knees and him rubbing circles on your back with his large, warm palm. Sure, it was performative, but it was also extremely comforting and reassuring, especially with the way he just rocked your world in the bathroom.

The church-goers began to file out of the double doors and into the hall. You looked up through your eyelashes to be greeted by your parents. They looked at you with confusion and a hint of concern when your dad crouched in front of you and your mom sat next to Ransom.

“Everything alright?” Your dad looked up into your eyes and you managed a nod, taking a sip from the water bottle and clearing your throat.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Got into a coughing fit and couldn’t shake it. Much better now.”

Ransom heard the clarity with which you spoke. If he really wanted to be convincing, he should’ve had you suck him off. There wasn’t really the time for that, though. As much as he loved watching your lips wrapped around him, he came way faster inside you, and how could he allow for the evidence of scuffs on your knees when you were wearing such a pretty dress? Maybe next time, when you were in jeans.

Ransom was pulled out of his thoughts when your mom and dad spoke, thanking him for checking up on you.

“Oh no problem, don’t worry, I took good care of your girl. I always will.”

They smiled, and must’ve believed the scene in front of them, as the topic swiftly changed to what they wanted for brunch plans. Ransom met your gaze, giving a quick wink for only you to see before kissing the top of your head and giving his input to the conversation.

That was the last you saw of him for half an hour, though, as the church ladies descended, squeezing themselves between the two of you, oohing and ahhhing over your sly boyfriend. Every now and then, as they’d ask him a tidal wave of questions, his eyes would seek you, full of fire, secrecy, and love, paired with that signature smirk on his face.

Bonus A/N: I think something that this extravaganza has taught me is that I have a thing for mirrors….and that scares me. It’s so hot in fics, and sure, every time I walk past a mirror in real life, I’ve been told I stop, but I wasn’t aware of what a dangerous combination that made until now. Lord save me, but he’s probably too angry at me now bc I wrote this.

[loverslodge]

his number one wife

summery: your marriage to Ransom was supposed to business

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

warning: slight angst, fluff, SMUT, swearing, arranged marriage au

A/N: finally got my grubby hands on Ransom. this baby better use his trust fund to feed me more in the future.

“But wasn't he married to someone else three years ago?”

You have been questioning your parents’ decision for over a week. Which means you questioned them immediately as they revealed their plan.

You are supposed to marry Hugh Ransom Drysdale next week. You both ran in the same circle, kind of. He was almost 10 years older than you. You had heard of his 3 failed marriages. One was his ex was just a plain bimbo while the other was an actual gold-digger. The third wife was just a cheater which they showed as an open relationship. The fourth divorce came as a surprise to you by your parents. They told you he is officially single since last month and you were wife number 5.

Harlan Thrombey was pissed at Ransom because he married these women just to piss Harlan off. Harlan wanted Ransom to do better so he could take over Blood like Wine under his supervision but with all these marriages and divorces, Ransom was losing his essence. Harlan had heard about his friend’s daughter, Y/N, who was an editor in a big publishing company, rival, sure, but an asset nonetheless.

Harlan had sorted his will, finally. He planned on giving everything to Marta right after Ransom’s last divorce but when he caught a waft your diligence, Harlan thought you were the answer to all the prayers. He had been closely observing you for a while before approaching your family with the preposition. He saw your reluctance and so he struck the deal up with something you cannot refuse and that is progress in life. Ransom had been wasting his life away and they were drifting apart. Harlan did not want that. He wanted Ransom to stay close to him. Unlike the rest of the family, Ransom did genuinely cared about Harlan. But Ransom needed a purpose in life and someone who could show him and support him. Harlan saw that in you. Harlan gave almost everything to you and Ransom leaving some things aside for Marta. But he needed to make sure that it didn't go over Ransom’s head. And that is why he added conditions to it.

Harlan had found out about the financial need your family had and to help out, he asked your hand in marriage for Ransom. He could only convince Ransom for this marriage by blackmailing him into it. He put a condition that he can only take over his legacy by marrying you for more than 3 years. He knew three years was a lot but that was the only way he could think of making Ransom stick to a sensible person.

Ransom had heard of you. Same circle and all. You were exactly the type Harlan was pushing for. Harlan was always on his back and he knew it was for his own good but damn living in a fucked up family and fucked up his brain. Ransom remembered seeing you in one of the fundraisers. You were dressed in a simple black long dress with a diamond brooch tucked on your bosom. Your makeup was light and your hair left in a loose bun. The only reason why Ransom remembers you is because you wore a red lipstick and he had jerked off to those lips that night. He wondered if you would wear that shade for the wedding.

……………….

It was officially your wedding day and you sat in your suite waiting to be called out. You didn't really have an option to say no. You had seen your family struggling financially and you got a call, directly from Harlan asking to meet.

When you met Harlan, he explained that Blood Like Wine needed a new owner and he wanted that to be you and Ransom. You had audibly scoffed at the idea but Harlan told you that if not, the publishing company would go to shit. You felt bad. You had read all about how Harlan started this company. You had ideas about starting your own but you had no capital. Harlan was giving you an open reign into doing whatever you wanted with the company and so you said yes. Not for Ransom but for the company. You were going to make it big.

You chose to wear a princess style wedding gown. You liked it. Fulfill your fantasy. Red roses adorned your hair and bouquet. Your hands were clammy. He was married to four different women before you. How were you supposed to compete with those? Especially as a virgin. Not that your virginity was an issue but Ransom was an experienced man with experienced ex wives. You definitely did not expect Ransom to go without sex for three years! You too would have wifely duties.

You heard your name called out and you shook your head. Maybe you'll get to talk to Ransom after the ceremony or after you reach his place, where you will live, with him. Your hands got clammy again and your breath started going short. Your walk down the aisle was a blur. For you, it took mere seconds to reach Ransom who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking just as much of an asshole as he was. Your breath still shaky, you stood beside him, clutching onto the flowers with your dear life.

As soon as the doors opened, Ransom turned to see the lovely woman he was being forced to marry. When he saw you, his heart thudded so loud, he could swear everyone heard it. You looked like a cupcake, sure, that made me snicker but the closer you got, the more he could see you. He saw you shaking, breathing heavy and he saw you having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the aisle. He wanted to rush to her, hold her and tell her ‘it's fine’ but he would never, it didn't fit the Ransom brand. Just as you stood beside him, he shuffled closer to you subtly and held out his hand.

“Here, hold my hand and breath with me. I can get you out of here as soon as we are done with the ceremony.”

You instinctively go for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You thought his breath hitched but you ignored and focused on the preacher. You merged your breath with his and by the time you zoned into the scene, the preacher asked to exchange the rings. You remember the rings because Harlan had shown them to you. You put the ring on Ransom’s finger and he does the same to you. He kept holding your hand during the rest of the ceremony. But as soon as the preacher announced that it was time to kiss, your brain started to struggle.

“I’ll put my thumb on your lips and kiss that. I know you don't want this but it's not like we have any options. Okay?” Ransom situated himself to get closer to you and cupped your face. He placed his thumb delicately on your lips.

You nodded with wide eyes. His thumb on your lips was sending tingles down your body. He shook his head and pulled you closer. “Words, baby, I need your words. Okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

Just as the words slipped out of your mouth, he placed his lips on his thumb. But his lips met with the corner of yours and you gasped. This was not good. Feeling tingles and lips on you. You could hear the crowd cheer but your wide eyes met his deep blue ones. They were unreadable. You put your hands on his chest and slowly pushed him and he let go.

You and Ransom were soon dragged to a private room where Harlan was waiting with a lawyer. Ransom was keeping his hand around your waist the entire time you were in the room. It felt, in a way, possessive, but you did not want to overthink it. You signed the papers and so did Ransom. Harlan had talked to Ransom and promised him the publishing company with a lot of his fortune the day he got married.

It took Ransom by surprise when he found out that he wasn't the only one who got the publishing company but it was you as well. They were going to partners, co-owners and well, a married couple to take the company forward. When he heard Harlan tell you that he is excited to see the changes you talked about bringing into the company, it boiled his blood. This was supposed to be his sole legacy and not a shared one. It pissed him off but he controlled it, for now.

The wedding reception went on in full swing. The Thrombeys were busy getting drunk and insulting people. Ransom sighed at the sight and sipped from his tumbler. You were dragged away a few minutes ago to the honeymoon suite. Apparently, you had told Harlan that you and Ransom won't be going for a honeymoon and whatever is to happen will happen in that hotel for the weekend. Ransom just wanted to go back to his place but conditions were binding him.

Ransom wanted to ask you about your apparent panic attack but he held off. So much was going on and he figured it out during the contract signing that you hadn't known about the wedding two weeks before. He, however, had known about it for over 2 months. He was given a choice between you or a socialite who was way too much into charity. He had picked you. He had seen you around often and had heard about you enough to know that you weren't going to dupe him or Harlan out of money.

You were pacing in your suite. You had managed to detangle your styled hair but getting out of the dress was proving impossible. You couldn't find the damned zipper. You were very close to tearing your dress when the door unlocked. Ransom sauntered in and threw his coat on the chair.

“What?” he asked as he manspread himself on the couch.

“Can you, uh, please help me? Nobody would help me out of the dress. I, uh, can't find the zipper.” You hesitated. You walked closer to him and he got up with a sigh.

“Why the fuck would you wear such elaborate dress anyway? It's not like you wanted to get married to me.” Ransom zips down the dress, leaving you almost startled when the dress started falling off your naked breasts.

“I might not have been keen on marrying you but I was bound by the contract. Harlan insisted. I couldn't say no.” You waddled into the bathroom with a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt.

“Why would you agree to a contract? You are an individual woman, as I have heard from your ungrateful friends.” Ransom raised his voice so you could hear him in the bathroom.

“They are not my friends. I know them due to social reasons. I, uh, I have no friends. I am, what my parents, very lovingly like to call, a social pariah. I talk to all but get close to none.”

“Is this why Harlan gave you the publishing company instead of me?” Ransom slipped on his sleep shorts and started unbuttoning his shirt. You yank open the door and walk with your wedding dress, carefully hanging it in the closet.

“He did give you the publishing company.” You settle in the bed and bring the comforter over your legs. You did not expect the room to be this cold.

“No, he gave me the company because of you. You are the reason why I have the company and I do not like that. I wanted to be the only owner, not a co-owner. You are just like others, trying to steal my legacy.” Ransom, in all his half-naked glory, sat on the other side of the bed.

“Hey! I did not steal anything. If anything, it was Harlan who told me that if I do not agree to marry you, he will close the company for good. He asked me to take over with you, not the other way around. Get off your high horse Hugh, nobody likes you like that.” You turn around and slip in, trying to get some sleep.

“It’s Ransom, and you know it. Do not call me Hugh. you are my wife and not some help.” He yanked the comforter off of you.

“Whatever. I don't care. I have this weekend to figure out how to announce it to the rest of the office and how to get your pervert uncle off my back.” You yank the comforter back and go to sleep.

You calling Walt a pervert hit Ransom on the nerve. He did know Walt did not see kindly to women but to have his new bride call out his uncle right off the bat clicked something in him. But he was also not going to let you take all the credits alone. He would be damned if you did all the work alone and became the office favorite. He will pester you into sharing your ideas and he will make sure that Walt stays away from all of this.

………………….

You were honestly shocked when you reached Ransom’s place on Sunday evening that nothing happened between the two of you. You had heard Ransom to be a lady’s man, always flirting, always so good to get women in bed. Hell, you had witnessed him get two sisters to stop fighting over him and took them both to bed! But he did nothing to you. Nothing! Zero! Nada! Zilch! You have no idea why it affected you so much.

You shook your head and took in the room that Ransom had so nicely provided for you. He was very understanding about the fact you don't want to share a room. But you both did share an office. In and out of the house. He made space for your desk in the home office.

As soon as you arrived at his place, he made a beeline to his room, leaving you to explore the house alone. You soon found the home office with your desk and started setting up. You weren't used to the weekends off and so you immediately started looking at the manuscripts that had piled up because of Walt’s lack of interest. It was going to take some time to sort through the genres and copies but you weren't a quitter.

Ransom heard you type away in the home office. Your typing was aggressive. He got annoyed. He marched into the home office to see you deep into the piles of manuscripts that you had asked your assistant to bring. It irked Ransom. He was supposed to do this. He is supposed to be the big boss. So he walks to your desk and takes a pile.

“No! Not that one. I had just sorted through that! This one,” you point at the pile on your left. “Take this pile. This one needs to go through extensive work. I am busy reading this one and if you want to help, pick that.”

Ransom was taken aback. Instead of fighting him into letting you do all the work, you actually gave him the correct thing to focus on. He put the pile back and picked the one you pointed at. But, instead of working on them, he just placed them on the desk and stood in front of your desk.

“What do you want? I gave you the correct pile. Start working on it.”

“It's time for dinner. Come on. Come downstairs. Work tomorrow. You have been at it the entire weekend.” Ransom was trying to be polite. He never treated his previous wives this way. But in all honesty, his previous wives were not worker bees. All they wanted from Ransom was money and he did do that. He wasted away his life and money on them but you weren't like that. Ransom noticed. He liked it. You made him be what he had always wanted to be. But he wasn't going to let you know that.

“I'm not hungry. Maybe next time.” You said without lifting your head.

Ransom scoffed and left. He didn't disturb you the rest of the night. But he did have his housekeeper send you some food. He wasn't heartless. He wouldn't want his partner to die without telling him what she had been up to.

………………….

Mondays were hell. Mondays should not exist. You drag yourself out of bed after pulling an almost all nighter. You had gone to bed at 3:30 am and the sleep didn't come to you for almost an hour because you were not used to the new space. You went to the bathroom next to your room and undress. You turned on the shower and step in to let it wash the exhaustion off of you.

Ransom woke up earlier than he used to. He looked at the clock that glared at him at 7:00 am. He sighed and rose to go to the bathroom to shower. He spent the entire night pacing his room and thinking about how he would ask you to step down so he could take over. He did not like how you just took over without a complaint or thought. You were stepping on his legacy. He walked in the bathroom and opened the shower curtain, only to see you, very naked and very wet.

Ransom could not take his eyes off of you. You had been making him horny but seeing your body, it excelled it all. He saw your curves and the way the water was dripping from your breasts to your core, he pictured a hundred things all at once. He just wanted to slip into the shower with you and have his way. He wanted to touch your curves, caress your curves, hold on to you and pull his name, that you refused to say, out of your pink puffed lips.

“What the fuck! Get out! Do you not have a bathroom in your room?” You shut the curtain and peak your head out from a gap you made. You are very embarrassed but somehow, not angry.

You were not the most confident woman when it came to her body. You saw your body as a bunch of fat pouches. So, when Ransom saw your naked body, you thought he would find you unattractive. He was perfect but you were not. His ex wives were perfect but you were not. You never thought of trying to please Ransom but after this, you wanted him to see you for your brain and not your pudgy body.

“My shower has been broken. The repairman will be coming today. I thought nobody would have woken up this early! Why are you here?” Ransom surprised himself when he turned around to give her privacy. He could hear a waver in her voice but still not his name.

“Oh! Well, you are one of those people who dont wake up early. Harlan told me you wake up at 10. And secondly, I don't have a bathroom in my room. This is the one where i put my things. Now, please, get out. I need to get out of the shower and I'm cold.”

Ransom sees your towel hanging near him so he takes it and tosses it over his shoulder towards you without turning. He hears a squeak coming from you and some scrambling till he feels your body heat near him. You weren't touching him but he felt you. Your breath directly on his shirtless back. He could see you in the mirror. He saw you adjusting the towel around you and your lips puffing out air. He just wanted to turn around and crash his mouth on yours.

You push your way out of the bathroom and run into your room, leaving Ransom in the bathroom with a hard on.

…………………..

Walt needs to mind his own business which is finding a new job. You were tired of him sitting in front of you. He kept on eyeing you in a way that made you very uncomfortable. You figured he was trying to assert dominance but this was pure perversion to you.

Ransom walked in the office. He had helped set up your desk in the same office since he wanted to look into what you were going to do. The room was huge. His desk was on a raised platform while you were on the level. You didn't mind really. The sofas were set to the window overlooking the company employee desks. You had your own assistant and Ransom had his own but you had instructed them to be in constant communication so as to maintain the operations. The HR department was informed of your position and they had worked out the paperworks on it which you and Ransom had signed along with the rest of the documents on your wedding day.

Ransom saw Walt being an ass. He saw him sitting on your desk and your face buried in the laptop trying very hard to avoid Walt. ransom twisted his chair and turned him around, away from you.

“Get out, Walt. you're harassing my wife. You're not needed. You're not the boss. If you have anything to say, talk to me.” Ransom points at the door. 

“Hmph. try whatever you two want to but i will be the one saving this company by joining hands with Netflix. You will come running to me. Mind you.” Walt huffed out of the room.

Ransom saw your shoulder sag in relaxation. “Thank you.” you whispered so softly that if Ransom wasn't standing at your desk, he wouldn't have heard it.

“I put a pile on your desk. I thought you'd want to look into them. I don't want you to think that I am trying to take what is yours.” You point at his desk without looking up. Ransom was taken aback. You were involving him. You were not competing with him, but you were taking him along with you.

The day went by in silence. You stayed busy and so did he. Right before the lunch break, you and Ransom went downstairs and introduced yourselves to the employees. Obviously the female employees scoffed at his new wife but what irked Ransom was how the male employees were looking at you. Their eyes raked all over your body. He hadn't noticed your dress but now, he was seeing it. Your bosom was ample and so your cleavage was visible through the top of your blouse. You were wearing pants that accentuated your hips and thighs that made Ransom gasp internally. Your heels just gave your body the extra pump that it needed.

Ransom slowly walked and stood in front of you in a very nonchalant manner. He blocked the view of every male employee of you and he seemed pleased when he heard defeated groans from behind him. He smirked. He saw you weren't even aware of the effect you were having on the people. You were busy talking to the head of the marketing department and setting up dates to figure out marketing of new books. Somehow, he felt proud.

You hadn't brought lunch with you but you had work to do so you ignored food like you always did. After the introductions, you went back to the office and got back to work. Ransom had left right after that. You heard the employees return and you figured that the break was over. It must've been a while when you heard the office door open. You assumed it was one of the assistants and ignored it.

“Yeah, you can leave the file here. Email me the manuscript or if you can print it out for me, that would be great.”

“Did you even eat lunch?” That baritone voice jolts you out of the work.

“No.”

“Did you stay here the entire lunch break?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“...”

Your lack of response made him hiss in annoyance. Ransom picked the intercom from your desk and asked the assistant to bring you an avocado sandwich and freshly cut fruits.

“Listen, I appreciate you picking up the slack but you've got to eat. I can't have you falling because of low blood sugar. Don't expect me to do this every time.”

“I never expected you to do any of this. It's fine. You are not responsible for me.”

You talk back to him and go back to your work. Your food arrives soon and you munch on it while working. Ransom could not help but keep looking at you. He had never seen someone so diligent about Blood Like Wine, except Harlan.

Not everybody knew but Ransom loved Blood Like Wine as his own. It was not because it was his legacy but because it was part of his loving grandfather. Harlan might be a nosy asshole but Ransom did love him and whatever Harlan had was going to be Ransom’s, without question. Although, after all the marriages Ransom had pulled, Harlan was getting worried that he might actually have to cut him off but Ransom looked like he was coming around with this marriage. Harlan liked seeing Ransom getting more involved in it, even though it might be because he saw you as a competition.

Harlan was on his desk at his home when he got reported on their first day together. He smirked when he learnt that Ransom, even though reluctantly, got you lunch. He was also impressed with the amount of work you were catching up on and making Ransom work as well. Usually Ransom would just sit at the office for an hour or so and go off galavanting but with you there, Ransom went home at a regular time and with you strutting in front of him.

……………………..

Two months had gone by and you couldn't complain. Except Walt hovering around you whenever he gets a chance. He just wanted you to listen to his ideas but you knew what Harlan wanted and stayed away from any Walt ideas.

Ransom has been really nice to you. You both never had any moments but whatever was going on, it made things a little clear for you. Ransom was a good person. He was just misunderstood. Actually, people around him were so toxic that it had made him a miserable person. He brought you lunches, dinners and especially freshly cut fruits because you had a tendency of forgetting to eat.

He was somehow more observant than you gave him credit for. He was also such a great boss. Sure, he would be rude and appear as overbearing but it was all in good faith, he just didn't know how to frame the sentences politely. 

You handled the employees after he would walk away. You would explain the problems to them in a very mild manner and that boosted a lot of confidence in them. Your pair was seen as ‘good cop, bad cop’. It was very evident who was who.

You still shared an office in his house. You felt at home now. Ransom had started liking having you around. He would actually wait to get a glimpse of you in the morning. If you had left for work before him, he would be cranky the entire day. Nobody noticed that about him, neither him nor you.

………………….

You were comfortably sitting at your desk in the home office when Ransom threw open the door in a haste.

“What?” You were startled.

“I lied to Harlan. I said something and now he is going to be here to check on it. I need you to cooperate.” Ransom practically begged. And you knew that because he never begged.

“Before I cooperate, I need to know the reason. I'm not doing anything that I don't want to do.”

“Obviously. I'm not someone who would force someone to do things.” You raised an eyebrow at Ransom’s comment. “Not unless it's necessary. You know what I'm talking about.”

“You're stalling. What did you tell Harlan?”

“I told Harlan that we were getting along very well. He assumed sexually too so now he thinks we can't keep our hands off of each other. I didn't bother correcting him and now he is coming here for a surprise visit.”

“How do you know about his surprise visit?”

“I have my assistant on his tail. Kind of like a double agent. So will you cooperate?”

“I don't see what's there to cooperate.” You were just getting confused with Ransom’s babbling at this point.

“We will need to look like we are making out.” Ransom straightened up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stood up in rage.

“What's wrong with that? It's not like my cock will be in your pussy. You're overreacting. Stop being so prude.” Ransom shrugged his shoulders.

“Ransom!” You yelled loudly, stunning him.

This was the first time in six months you had ever said his name. If you wanted his attention, you might refer to him as Hugh but it was as far as five times in six months. He counted. He always did, unconsciously. He was dying to hear you say his name and now…

“Say it again.” Ransom walked up to you, backing you up against your desk.

“What?” Your voice softened and hoarse.

“My name.” Ransom’s voice dropped an octave, making you clench your thighs.

Ransom walked closer and before you could realize, he had spread your thighs and was standing in between them. You were propped up on the desk and his hands were planted on your waist. He glides his right hand up your body, sending tingles through your clothes. His hand ends up on your neck and he presses his calloused thumb against your throat lightly.

You look in his darkened eyes and obediently do as he told you. “Ransom.” It comes out hoarse due to the fact that you're turned on.

Hearing his name from your mouth and the vibrations that his name caused on his thumb turned him on. Without a thought, his lips descend on your throat. A whimper escaped your lips and your hands slipped around his waist.

“Again.” He demands softly, keeping his lips on your throat.

“Ransom.” You say it again with a whimper.

His lips latched on to your neck and he started sucking and licking. You were a whimpering mess. The way his name vibrated from your throat to his lips spurred him on too much. Your hands tightened around his waist. His right hand held onto your neck while his left slipped in your shirt sending sparks up your back where he placed his hand. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as well, pulling him close. His clothed bulge was now snug against your clothed dripping cunt.

It felt like a while till you heard the door to the office open. Harlan was greeted by a scene he was definitely not expecting. He knew that Ransom lied when he did not correct him. But the scene before him was surely not a mirage. Harlan cleared his throat and called out both of your names to pull you both out of the haze.

Your back was against Harlan and so Ransom looked over your shoulder to greet Harlan. You were too embarrassed to turn around so you did what you thought worked the best and that was burying your face in Ransom’s sweater-clad chest. Ransom tightened his hold on you making you feel more comfortable against him. You were now aware of his bulge against your wetness which, in turn, pooled more wetness.

“Sorry, Harlan. I'm a little busy here. Is it important?” Ransom’s hoarse voice rang through your ears.

“No. Nothing important just came by to see you two.” Ransom saw Harlan’s smirk. “Let's meet this weekend at my office. Both of you.” With that statement, Harlan walked out, closing the office door behind him.

You didn't realize you were holding your breath. You let out a strong air and were about to pull away from Ransom when he lifted you off the desk. You yelped and tightened your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He kept on nipping at your neck making you moan and whimper as he led you to the sofa in the office. He sat down, making you straddle him.

He moves his lips from your neck slowly to your lips. He brushed his lips against yours and looked in your eyes for permission. Your eyes popped open to see his dark blue ones staring right at you. You wanted his lips on yours and he was letting you lead this time. He had loosened his hold on your waist as well, telling you that it's okay to stop.

You looked at his lips and back in his eyes. They were full of desire and you would be lying if you did not want his cock in you.

You grabbed his sweater and pulled him for a deep passionate kiss, surprising him a little. He got over his shock in a second and dove deep with the kiss. Tongues were tangled and hairs were ringed around the fingers. You were grinding against him, so was he.

His hand moved to your breasts and started fondling them from over your bra. You whined, not being able to feel his skin against your taut nipples. You moved your hand back and unhooked your bra then directed his hand under your bra. You hiss and moan when his palms caress your nipples.

He was surprised when you took the lead and directed his hand to your bare breasts. He sighed and drew his lips on the open skin near your breast. You whined again and tugged your top off, along with your bra, leaving your top bare for him. Before he could descend his lips on your chest, you tugged at his sweater and he removed it to reveal a very tight and thick chest.

You roam your hand on his chest and admire the piece of art it was. Seeing your reaction to his body, he chuckled lightly, still fondling your breasts. You wanted his mouth on your nipples so you dragged his face to your breasts and shoved a nipple near his lips. Taking the hint, he opened his mouth and sucked and licked your nipples, making your back arch and moan loudly.

“I am loving the initiative.” Ransom whispered against your nipples.

“Well, you are holding back.” You tug on his hair.

“Then let me not make you wait.”

Ransom unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He shuffled a little to drop his pants and boxers to his ankle while you did the same with your underwear.

“Let me tell you something, darling, once I have you, I have you. We are not going back. You still have a chance to back out.” Ransom brings your nipples to his lips again, making you moan.

“You're wrong. Once I have you, you're not going back. You better keep that in mind.” You tug at his hair and bring his face near yours. You cupped his face and forced him to look in your eyes. “I will ruin the lives of every woman you will think about during our marriage.”

Ransom chuckled. “You're the only woman I'm going to be thinking about for the rest of our lives.”

You settle well against his thick, long cock, pressing it against your wet lips and grind on him again as you attack his neck with your lips. You started marking him up, leaving deep, dark marks all over his neck while slowly grinding against his naked cock. He was a moaning mess.

“Shit, darling, so possessive.” Ransom grabbed your jaw and dragged your lips back to his.

You lifted yourself a little and his other hand guided his cock within your folds. As his cock entered you, you let out a loud moan.

“So big, Ransom.” Before moving, he lets you get used to his size.

“Fuck, Darling.” Ransom began to move.

You ground your hips against his movement that made you both moan. Because of these movements, his cock kept on hitting your spot and you could do nothing but moan loudly.

“Darling, you’re fucking tight. Damn, I can feel you squeezing me.” Ransom held your hips and made you move faster. You threw your head back and leaned back on his shoulder. Your lips found his again and drowned the noises both of you were making.

“Fuck, Ransom. You make me feel so good.” You descend your lips on his chest and he guides your hips through the movement. He loved hearing his name from you. Especially when you moan about it. He doesn’t think he will ever go back to hearing you say his name normally again.

You both came closer to your high and you brought your hands down to your clit the same time as Ransom. Seeing he was going to take care of you, you take your fingers back and grip his shoulder to move faster.

“Fuck! Faster Ransom!”

Ransom swirls his finger on your clit faster and you bounce on his cock with much vigor. You both get to your high together and the coil in your stomach snaps. You cum all over his cock as he kept on thrusting in you, cumming himself. You ride out your orgasm with him. His thrusting falters and you sag against his chest just as he sags on the couch.

You both stay like this for a few minutes. Ransom had his arms around you and one of which was caressing your cheek. You snuggle closer to him. He was still buried deep in you and both of your cum dribbled out of you on the couch but none of you wanted to move.

“Come on, darling, we should get up and get cleaned. It's time for your fruits.” Ransom held on to you and stood up. His cock slipped out of you, making you whimper at his loss.

“Are you sure youre not feeding me fruits so that you get to fuck me again?” You try to tease Ransom that made him chuckle.

“Yes. That is exactly why. I need you in my bed.” He walks into the bathroom and helps you stand in the shower. “But before that, I'm going to have you in the shower.”

That entire day was spent in the bed with Ransom. After each round, he would feed you fruits and give you water bottles to stay hydrated. It wasn't until way past midnight that you both grew tired and after one last round in the shower, you both snuggled in his bed to sleep.

Next day when you woke up, one thing was made very clear by Ransom and that was “You are it for me, darling. You're my wife, you're my partner and I am willing to spend the rest of my life making sure you eat on time.”

Fair to say, he moved your desk out and extended his desk so you could sit with him. He refused to stay away from you for even five minutes but you didn't mind. Both of you worked in expanding Blood Like Wine into a bigger name than it was and you managed to protect his legacy just how he liked it. Harlan was happy with whatever was going on and stopped meddling.

Ransom had finally found a woman who was his number one and for whom he was the number one.

[georgiapeach30513]

My Worth In Blood

Summary: If he catches you, he gets to keep you.

Pairings: Vampire!Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, chase kink, teasing, blood kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, minor breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.9K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Inhale. Long, slow, and drawn out. Exhale.

Breathe in, “Mmm.”

Delectable.

Ransom’s piercing cool blue eyes scan into the dusky night. Who is that? He runs a tongue over his razor sharp teeth. Moving the muscle over it before he pierces his tongue. He inhales the intoxicating aroma of you again. You smell divine. Heavenly. But where are you?

Taking a few steps, he scents you again. He can already taste you on his lips, and pouring down his throat. His eyes nearly glow as he finds the pathway to you. Pupils immediately dilating when he sees you. Alone, minding your business, and reading a book at a cafe. Oblivious to the noise and hustle of the city. Your foot taps a steady rhythm on the table leg, and you flip a page of your book.

Lifting your mug to your lips, he smells your body’s beautiful scent mixing with the aroma of chai tea latte. His vision zones in on the pulse on your neck. Your body is heating up. Your chest heaves a bit more than the other patrons at the cafe. Heart beating so much faster. Your mouth opens as you inhale sharply. You’re fucking aroused. So heated over whatever you’re reading he smells your honey, and can already taste you.

He shakes himself out of his stupor, smiling as he walks over to you. You’re so caught up in the book you don’t even pay him any mind, so he sits down in the chair in front of you. My gods, your neck is a work of art. Pristine, and blemish free. Perfect for his bite. You don’t care about him, or the fact that he can feel your temperature raise. What has got you so turned on? What is it that makes you feel so — flustered?

He clears his throat, watching as you finish your page before closing your book, “I’m not moving. There’s other tables you can sit at,” and you lift your book up again.

“What are you reading?”

“Not into small talk,” you chide, trying to read despite his inquiries.

“Little Stranger?” Ge looks at the blackened book in your hands with a smile. It looks almost sinister.

“Mmm,” you respond. You weren’t going to finish this book if he didn’t stop talking. You want to roll your eyes. You want to show him just how annoyed you are, but you continue along your merry way. Enjoying each line despite the intruder.

“What’s it about?”

You roll your eyes up to look at him over the book, and finally you see him. He’s dangerous. You didn’t know who he was, or anything about him, but danger radiates off his pale skin. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness with how bright they are. You want to look away, and can’t. He smiles the most devilish handsome smile, and you need to melt into yourself.

“Don’t do that,” you demand of him.

“Do what?” He’s an arrogant thing. His mouth curls up into a grin that would have girls losing their panties immediately. But you sense the danger.

“Whatever you’re doing,” his head cocks to the side in a question, looking like an innocent pup instead of the predator you know he is, and it makes you you gulp. You don’t miss the way his hungry eyes go to your mouth, and then your neck. Nostrils flaring when he notices your pulse, “Stop it.”

“What exactly am I doing?” He’s a tease.

“You’re fucking me with your eyes,” his boisterous laugh startles you, but it’s not a bad sound. It’s musical. “You know what you’re doing.”

“My sweet little mouse,” that nickname? Why would he use that one? He isn’t allowed to make you feel weaker than you already are. And ‘my’? He’s already claiming you as his. Are you in a book? Is your fantasies coming to life right before your eyes. “Trust me, if I was fucking you, you’d know.”

“I said with your eyes,” his brows lower as he stares at you. Staring right into your soul. No, your core, sensing the heat and slick pooling in your paties. You whimper. Heat courses through your body, and you feel it tingle all the way to your toes. Your body suddenly has two heartbeats, and one is making you double over. “Stop!”

The feeling immediately quits, and you gape at him. “What are you doing?”

“Judging by the swelling of your lips, the dilated eyes, and the scent coming from between your thighs, you know exactly what I’m doing,” you press your fingers on your mouth. Running the pads of the digits over your lips. He’s lying. “Little mouse, I didn’t mean the lips on your face.”

“You pervert!” He chuckles again, and you lay your book on the table. Crossing your arms over your chest, and he reaches for the book. “Stop! Don’t read that, it’s private!”

Randomly the strange man opens your book, stopping where you last let off. His mouth quirks up with each line. His eyes move unnaturally quickly over the words. “I don’t think I’m the one that’s a pervert,” he chuckles, and then clears his throat. The man looks at you, while he closes the book. Clearing his throat, “Has anyone ever told you how delectable you smell?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you cross too many boundaries?”

“Has anyone ever told you how your heart rate spikes when you read your filthy smut?” You gawk at him. The audacity. “You’re reading this out in public. Is that part of the turn on?” You didn’t have to answer that. You’re enjoying yourself reading. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s quite a turn on for me that I could smell your arousal across the street, and all because you were reading that,” you clear your throat.

He isn’t a bad looking man. He’s actually — beautiful in an otherworldly kind of way. What he’s saying is embarrassing, and enthralling all at the same time. The man picks your book up again, and starts flipping through the pages. “You don’t lack many pages. Mmm,” his nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. The man adjusts his sitting, and his pants.

“You’re uncomfortable with my book?”

“No,” gulping, you look down at your cup. You wonder exactly what he is reading, and why a stranger is making you feel things deep in the pit of your stomach that you can’t explain. It is completely animalistic, and you don’t want to fight it. What are you thinking? This isn’t fiction. This is real life, and he’s a real man. “I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“A man,” he is all man. You can see that clearly. “Nor am I turned off by this. This brother is a menace. Why is he putting blood on his sister?”

“Concerned about the blood and not the fact they’re siblings?” His nose curls up a bit. An intimidating man, looking adorable. He flips a few pages before glaring at you, “They’re not actually siblings.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” he doesn’t even ask. He grabs your book, and holds out a hand for you. “I won’t bite. Hard anyways,” so corny. And yet, you still give him your hand. Gulping as his eyes scan over your entire body when you stand in front of him, “Immaculate.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr.?”

“Ransom,” it’s a fitting dark name for him. “Don’t ever call me Mr. Drysdale,” lifting your hand, he takes a long whiff before pressing his pillowy lips on your chilled hand, “What are you?” Those eyes flit back and forth across your face. “You’re like no human I’ve ever smelled.”

“You’re strange.”

“And there’s more to you than meets the eye, little mouse,” you roll your eyes, going to lead the way to somewhere, when Ransom looks up at the name of the cafe, “Coven Cafe, servicing wicked brews, enchanted espressos, and potions all to you from a mystic mug?”

“Is there a problem?” You moan as he pulls you into his marble hard body, and he sniffs up your neck. His tongue flicks out onto your skin, and he licks you, “Are you as impressed as I am that after all these years, you found me?”

“You bitch.”

“Witch,” giggling, you push Ransom away from you. “And yet, you can’t get my scent out of your silly little vamp mind,” his eyes set afire. Glaring at you while your lips turn up into a devious smile. “You think you finally deserve to bite me? To feast on me? Go on, you can bite me if you want to,” pouting up at him, you bat your lashes, “I like it.”

His eyes flutter close, and you take it as an opportunity to run. He could outrun you with his eyes closed, so any head start would have to do. Sprinting to the nearby woods. He can track you. He probably enjoys that even more. Cackling the moment you get into the trees, you begin to peel off parts of your clothes.

Leaving him a trail of discarded pieces of you. Letting him know just how undressed you are. Teasing him as you run away. Whore of a vampire. You are no fool to Ransom, and what it is he wants, and you’re willing to give it to him. Even for just one night. You’d become his obsession, while he became your ultimate prize. He could deny it. He could say that witches and vampires are mortal enemies. But Ransom has dreamed of a taste from you for too many years. You made sure of that.

“Where are you?” His voice echoes into the night, and you can’t help but to laugh again. Letting your voice ring out into the night.

“Use your vampire made senses. Find me. Claim me. And you can finally taste me,” you duck into a thicket. Your eyes looking into the dark for a sign of one of nature’s ultimate predators. Waiting on him like you’re his prey. And you want to be. You want him to pounce. The stamina of a vampire is said to be unmatched. And you want to test out that theory.

Quieting your breathing, you hear crunching of the leaves, and it’s not the pretty creature of the night. The woods come alive, altering your senses, and you have a deep urge to flee. You don’t want to. You need him to catch you. But there’s too much movement all around you. His presence wakes up the woods. They all want to get away from him.

“Run,” a voice whispers against your back, and you bolt. He chortles. He’s only letting you get ahead because he loves the chase. Loves the adrenaline rush right to his groin. Loves the way that you smell when you’re scared. Those muffled little snickers tickle on your skin, letting you know just how close he is to you.

All he has to do is reach out, “Got you. Now,” he pushes your body up against his own. Grinding his hips into your ass. “It’s a bit cliche to have a witch running through the woods naked on a full moon, isn’t it?”

“Better make it quick. We might not be the only creatures of the night out here,” he thrusts himself forward, grinning when you whimper.

“Think you can handle that much?” Pressing his bulge up against your ass, you get weaker with every rub against you.

“Oh, baby, I’ve been on my knees while a werewolf tried to mate with me. You think your little cock is going to be enough?” His fangs snap out, and you gasp. “Do it,” whining as a fang runs softly against your skin. “I dare you,” your knees buckle, and you mewl as he pierces your skin.

His hips still dry hump you. A free hand roams down your body until he sinks between your velvety lips. “My gods, you’re leaking,” his fangs retreat back in, and you spin around to glare at him. “Oh shut up, you needy little bitch. Are you trying to mate with every creature out there? I’m a vampire. I don’t procreate.”

“Did you ever think that was the appeal?” Ransom rolls his eyes, but calmly starts to remove his clothes. “Able to fuck all day with no consequence. You could spill in my cunt, and never sire a child. And…”

“Did you really let a filthy mutt mount you?” The disgust on his face is evident. It makes you giddy knowing you can get under his skin so easily.

“Why?”

“I don’t much care for sloppy seconds,” pulling his pants down, his cock springs free, and you nearly drool at the sight. A rock hard rod, looking more like marble than flesh. “Are you a whore?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Oooh!” He picks you up without any preamble. Both his hands gripping a thigh as he spreads you out wide, and lifts you up to his face. “What are you doing?” You screech, and he sniffs you.

“Staring at your cunt.”

“Why?”

“Have you actually taken a mutt?”

The one thing that would offend Ransom, and you said it just to get a reaction. Typical. “No. Even I have standards,” he starts lowering your body, gazing up at your eyes that are pitch black with sinful lust. “You gonna fuck me?”

“I’m gonna fuck, and claim you,” lowering you further, he impales you on his cock, and you screech. His pulsing member stretches you out in such a state that you can’t even see straight. Giving you no time to adjust to him, he uses your body like a cocksleeve. Lifting you up and stabbing into you over and over again. Wanting you to feel every blinding pleasure throughout your body.

You’ve fucked other creatures, but never a vampire. Their skin is a crawling frost, but the speed at which he moves is enough to make your toes curl. The friction heats you up, even if his body can’t. “Gods, you are a pretty little witch. Too bad I can’t fuck my spawn into you.”

“Shut up with the breeding kink. You can’t deliver,” Ransom growls. It isn’t humane, it’s feral. He leans forward, biting onto your neck, while your body crashes into him. You’d heard of such highs as a vampire feasting on you during sex, but you weren’t prepared for this. This is heavenly. Setting your soul and skin on fire.

It’s like feeling your pleasure, but also his own. His passion. The way you feel to him. It’s beyond just orgasmic, you are giving him sustenance. You’re giving him air to breathe. To survive. “My gods,” he pulls off your neck, crimson drips from his lips, and he licks it off, savoring the taste of you. “What are you?”

“A powerful witch,” moaning, when he makes you take every inch of his veiny cock. Settling you over him balls deep Holding you still while he looks over your face. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Witch’s got my cock,” you snort, and he pulls you off him, only to slam you back over his length. “Bind yourself to me,” he demands. Vampires have been known to be cocky.

“Absolutely not,” his brow quirks up. This time he pulls himself out of you slowly before he rails back into you. “You’re amazing with that magic wand of yours, but I will never bind myself to you without a cost.”

“And what’s that cost?”

His eyes look at your open wound before he leans forward. His tongue flattens against your skin, and he pulls it up your neck. Sealing up the wounds. Returning to look at you. “Bind yourself to me,” Ransom scoffs. “It’s only fair. You have a blood bank, and my powers.”

“And what do you have, my little mouse?”

“You,” he settles your legs around his waist. Turning to place your back against a tree. “I know you’ve been searching for me. But you enjoy the chase too much to just let you have me. Now you do. Now take me, and become mine.”

“We barely know each other.”

“You thought differently when it was just me binding myself to you. We’ve known each other for decades,” he shakes his head, smiling, and you lift the veil. Memories of him following your scent. Getting almost close enough, before you enchanted him. Engraining your essence into him. “You’ve always wanted me. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

His mouth turns into a grin before he slams into your own mouth. Tasting yourself mingling with his sweet decadent being. His hips thrust into you with so much force that your back edges up and down on the tree. So much stimulation for so early in the night. He’s yours. He. Is. Yours.

With the force he’s pushing into you, you’ll be bruised. You can take it. You can take everything this beautiful vampire gives you. Everything. He’s yours. You were made for him. You can take it.

“You’ll take everything I give you,” Ransom rares back. Panting as he whispers on your lips. “All of it.”

“Every last drop,” you respond as his teeth pierce the other side of your neck, and your body comes undone. Euphoria settles throughout you. Sealing your fate with him forever. “Forever.”

Yours.

“Mine,” he growls onto your body. And lightning courses through your blood. He feels it. He feels it all. He feels you. “All. Mine.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @distractingbeth @musingsfromthemitten

@theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[jay-wasstuff]

Fanfic authors after seeing the 10 second cameo

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Halloween

Kinktober 2024 - Day 14

Pairing: Needy!Ransom Drysdale x Nurse!Fem!Reader

Kink: Shotgunning

Word Count: 1000+

Summary: You had a rough day and Ransom wanted to help relax you.

Warnings: slight dub-con (cause of weed), explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, creampie, teasing), recreational drug use (weed), soft!Ransom, slight medical talk

a/n: This is the same au as the first Ransom fic earlier in the month. I hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You had a rough day at the ER, it was Halloween so the busiest time of the year for the ER, and by the end of your shift it was 6pm and you had been up since 4am and you just wanted to go home. You were sweaty and your gown was covered in blood and bile from your last patient of the day and you just wanted a nice long hot shower. You took off your PPE and grabbed your belongings and jacket before leaving the building.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and your cat, Ophelia, greeted you with a loud ‘mreow’ and rubbed her side against your calf. You let out a soft sigh and Ransom was sitting on the couch with a scotch and lit blunt in each hand. You took a deep breath and set your bag down and shucked off your jacket. You walked over to the living room and slumped onto the seat next to Ransom and laid your head down on his lap. He looked down at you and set his scotch down on the side table. 

“Rough day?” Ransom hummed as his hand moved down to help you shuck your scrub top off as he took a puff of his blunt.

You scoffed, “It’s Halloween. It was hell on Earth.” You took the blunt from his lips and took your own puff and blew the smoke into his face. “I need a shower.” You huffed and took another puff. 

He rubbed the exposed skin of your belly gently, “You get a shower and I’ll roll us another one, and we can have sex.” He smirked and teased his thumb under the hem of your pants. 

You hummed softly and nodded before sitting up and handing him the roach, “That sounds nice.” You smiled and you kissed his lips softly before walking to the bathroom. 

After your shower, you walked into the bedroom in your blood red silk robe. Ransom was stark naked in bed, the sheet covering his waist and had a rolling tray, a half empty bottle of José Quarvo, and a bowl of Halloween candy in front of him. You smirked at the sight and walked over and undid your robe before laying on the bed next to him. 

“Candy and weed is my love language, Ran. How’d you know.” You teased as you grabbed the freshly rolled blunt and the lighter from the tray. You placed the filter between your lips and lit it on fire and took an inhale. You let out a breathy moan as the smoke filled your lungs, and you leaned over and kissed him before exhaling the smoke into his mouth. 

He inhaled it and you pulled away and he exhaled through his nose before kissing you again but deeper. You cupped his face and kissed him deeply, holding him close to you and you wrapped your arms around his neck and yanked him closer. His hands gripped your hips tight in his hands as he kissed you. You pulled back to take another hit of the joint and he took the joint from your lips, to take a hit of his own. You exhaled your hit and grabbed a candy from the bowl and snacked on it as you opened the bottle of tequila. You took a long swig, letting the alcohol burn down your throat and warm your chest. He leaned over to kiss your lips and exhaled his own hit into your mouth, letting the smoke invade your lungs. He pulled back and set the joint down and took his own piece of candy. 

He finished his candy before rolling you onto your back and his lips attached himself to your neck. You moaned as he sucked on your sensitive skin there and his hands trailed up your thighs and to cup your bare and already leaking cunt. “So wet, babygirl.” He hummed against your skin as he teased his fingers through your folds. He thumbed at your clit softly as his lips moved further down your chest, nosing aside your robe to reveal your breasts to him. 

You let out a soft moan and you ran your fingers through his hair gently, teasingly tugging on it. “You’re such a tease, baby.” You smirked as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you moan louder. He nipped and sucked his way down your body to your bare cunt but you stopped him with a tug on his hair. He looked up at you with a confused look on his face with his mouth opened slightly, “As much as I love when you eat me out, I really need you to just fuck me.” 

He smirked up at you and he kissed back up your body to nose at your neck, “Yes, ma’am.” He hummed before slowly thrusting into your cunt, bottoming out in one thrust. He whined softly as your walls engulfed his cock in warmth, “Fuckkk! So warm and wet.” He whimpered, hiding his face in your neck as he tested the waters by rutting into your waiting cunt. 

You moaned at the pleasure that shot through you when he thrusted into you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot. “Mm, fuck. Good boy. You’re doing so well, love.” You whispered in his ear as he started roughly rutting into your soaked cunt. Your legs wrapped around his waist and held him flush against your chest and neck. His hands grasped your hips tight in his hands as he started pounding in and out of your cunt. 

He held you close as he fucked into you roughly, “F-fuck, I’m close already.” He grunted and gripped you tighter. “Fuckin’ weed.” He huffed a laugh that turned into a whine as your walls pulsed and squeezed harder as you went flying towards your end. 

You giggled breathlessly, “It always did make you so sensitive.” Your back arched as his pace grew sloppy and you weren’t far behind him as he came hard inside of you, pushing you over the edge. 

You two cleaned up the mess after and laid under the sheets as you two passed the blunt back and forth and ate half the bowl of candy, and finished the last small bit of the tequila. You two fell asleep high, drunk, and happy, curled up in each other’s embrace. Maybe Halloween wasn’t so bad as long as you had Ransom.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Fluffcember Day 14 | Popping your cherry

Pairing | Roommate!Experienced!Ransom Drysdale x Roommate!Virgin!Fem!Reader

Word count | 1.9K

Summary | You're just coming home from the worst date, but it's good that your roommate, Ransom, is there to cheer you up. After a long talk with him, you confess you've only been looking for someone willing to take your virginity, and that's when Ransom steps in and is more than happy to help you do just that.

Rating | Mature (M)

Warning(s) | Use of a pet name (Sweets), soft!Ransom, Reader's age is mentioned once.

Angst | Light angst, Reader went on a bad date.

Smut | Taking virginity, fingering, protected sex, lots of praise.

A/n | This one-shot is written for day 14 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. I always have a blast when writing for Ransom, so I can't wait to see what you all think of this! Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one 🎄

Events Masterlist | Roommate AU | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Date gone wrong | @anyfandomkinkbingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: The owner

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist | Read on AO3

Honestly, you're not entirely sure where you went wrong during your date because you were having fun. More than him, apparently.

Because when you offered to go to one of your places, he made a weak excuse about his cat or something and stormed off.

So now, here you are, in a taxi back to your apartment, still frustrated that seemingly no one wants to help you with your problem.

You're about to finish college, and you're still a virgin. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but you feel like you've been missing out on a fantastic experience based on how everyone around you always talks about it.

What you should have seen, however, is that the one person closest to you is more than willing to help you out if you ask. Your roommate, Ransom, has been there each time to pick you up after your dates have gone wrong, and it's killing him.

''Hi Sweets, how was it?'' Ransom asks as you walk in the door, but you're too ashamed to tell him how it went. Again.

Instead of answering Ransom, you storm off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you before slipping off the sad excuse you call a dress and putting on some sweats and one of Ransom's sweaters.

When your hair is in a messy ponytail, and your make-up is off, you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud sigh, and as if he could sense it, Ransom knocks on your door.

''Can I come in? I brought your favorite tea,'' Ransom says, his voice soft and gentle, which warms you from the inside. Despite that, you want to curl up into a ball, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

''Go away!'' you say, and keeping yourself from breaking down is challenging. Tears are fighting their way out, and you manage to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the worst of the sob.

''Alright, I'm coming in,'' he says, swinging the door open, quickly walking over to your bed and putting the cup of tea and a small bowl of your favorite chocolates onto your nightstand.

''Hey, what's going on? C'mere,'' he says as he sits on your bed and pulls you into his lap. He's seated with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of himself.

His left hand is resting on the side of your head as you cry with long sobs against his chest, his right hand rubbing soft circles on your waist and hip to calm you down a little bit.

''It's okay, Sweets, I'm here with you. You're okay,'' he whispers in your hair as he keeps placing soft kisses in your hair to reinforce his words, effectively calming you down.

After nearly 30 minutes, you've finally calmed down enough, and you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, sniffling a few times before removing your head from his chest and looking at him.

''Hi beautiful girl,'' Ransom says with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Even when you feel like an absolute mess, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and he's lucky that you're here in his arms.

''I'm not beautiful,'' you mumble, but Ransom laughs softly, his white teeth exposed as you hear the chuckle escape his lips.

''You are beautiful, Sweets. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that says a lot because I have seen many of them. But none of them compare to you and your beauty,'' he tells you.

He strokes a few loose hairs behind your ear, and his knuckles slide over your jaw as he pulls his hand back. He leaves a trail of goosebumps behind, and a shiver runs down your spine.

''Are you willing to tell me what's on your mind?'' he asks, his eyes shooting from yours to your plump lips and back. He can never get enough of your beauty, and he will always get lost in the color of your eyes.

''Men are stupid,'' you say as you let yourself drop against his chest again, with a deep sigh this time. His arms wrap around you, and you pull your knees up to your chest so he can hold you close.

''Except you, of course, you're not stupid,'' you quickly say, and Ransom chuckles.

''I'm glad you said that; I almost started to worry!'' he jokes, a genuine laugh forming deep inside his chest, once again warming you from the inside out.

''This guy I went on a date with is stupid, though,'' you sigh, and Ransom tilts his head to look at you with a quirked brow, wondering for more information.

''I was asking if we should go here or to his place because I enjoyed myself, and I thought he did too, but he made up some shitty excuse about his cat, and here we are…'' you tell him, and Ransom pulls you a little tighter to his body.

''His loss,'' Ransom shrugs, and you sigh again as you cuddle up into his chest, reveling in his warmth. You found yourself in your happy place, and you're not planning on going any time soon.

''Sweets? Why do you go on so many dates to begin with? It's just curiosity, not judging you or anything,'' Ransom asks later that night.

You two have moved to lay under your duvet, and your head is lying on his chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Your hand splayed out over his abdomen, your leg thrown over his.

His left arm is wrapped around you and is on your ribcage, moving slowly up and down with your breaths. His other arm is folded underneath his head, and he stares at the ceiling as his thoughts go a mile a minute.

''Well, everyone keeps telling me how amazing it was to lose their virginity at 16 years old and stuff, and here I am, nearly 26 and still a virgin! So, well... I've figured I'd take matters into my own hands, but so far, no one has been willing to do it...'' you sigh out, shutting your eyes tightly as you're trying not to be so embarrassed.

''Huh,'' Ransom mumbles. It takes a little while to come up with an idea, and he hopes you'll also be into it.

''What about me?'' he suddenly asks, and your head shoots up to meet his gaze.

''What about you?'' you ask, though you're pretty sure you know what he's getting at with his question.

''If you're sure you want to lose your virginity, I am more than okay with doing that. But only if you are, too. If not, we can drop it and never talk about it again,'' he tells you, but that isn't necessary.

''A-are you... I mean... You'd do that for me?'' you ask, a little unsure now, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. There's no one in your life who you'd trust more than Ransom.

''Of course, Sweets. I'd do anything for you,'' he tells you before he guides you off of him, and he crawls over you, effectively caging you in.

''Ransom, please...'' you beg softly, and that's all he needs to know what you want. He leans down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss that takes your breath away, and you need more.

Your tongue slides over his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to grant you access, your hand sliding into his hair to pull him impossibly closer.

His lower half is leaning on yours, and you can feel how hard he is right now as he's throbbing in his pants from the anticipation of what's about to happen. He'll be your first; after this, he plans never to let you go.

You moan softly as his hips start rolling against yours, and Ransom can't help but smile into the kiss before letting go and sitting on his knees, looking at you.

''I need words before I move on, Sweets. Because I need you to know that if we go through with this, you'll be mine, and I'm not letting you go. If you want me to stop at any point, you can tell me, and we can stop, no strings attached,'' he tells you, but you want him. Now.

''Yes, Ransom. Please take my virginity and make me yours. All I want is to be yours,'' you tell him, now almost getting impatient.

Within no time, you're both completely bare, and Ransom has sunk two of his long, thick fingers into your entrance, moving slowly to get you adjusted to the size of them.

''R-Ransom, I'm close!'' you tell him as he curls his fingers, the tension inside you building more and more, ready to snap. All you need is for him to give some love to your clit, and you'll fall over the edge, but he wants you to say it.

''What do you need, Sweets? Tell me, and I'll let you come,'' he says with a mischievous smile, and you groan in response.

''Need you to rub my clit!'' you tell him, and he obeys immediately, making you fall over the edge almost instantly.

''Look at you cumming for me; look so good for me, Sweets. Such a good girl,'' he grumbles out, and it only makes you even more horny, needing to feel him inside you.

Ransom grabs a condom from seemingly out of nowhere, but you're not thinking about that. All you're focused on right now is how big he is because it doesn't even stand up against his abdomen from how heavy and large it is.

It's amazing. And about to fit all inside you.

''Are you ready for me, Sweets? I'll go slow, I promise,'' he says as he leans forward after putting the condom on, capturing your lips with his as he lines up with your entrance.

''Yes, Ransom, I'm ready,'' you tell him, and your hands are on his biceps, squeezing softly when you feel his tip. It's a strange but pleasurable feeling, and the groan leaving Ransom's throat tells you everything you need to know.

Slowly but surely, he thrusts into you, keeping his gaze on your face at all times, ensuring that if you're hurt, he'll stop immediately. It's a good thing there's nothing but pleasure visible on your face because you're somewhere north of heaven right now.

With a loud moan, you feel him slide into the hilt, and your back arches, pressing your chest against his. You've never felt so full but never want this feeling to end.

''R-Ransom, it feels so good,'' you tell him, and he can't help but smile because he feels the same. He has never felt so damn good before.

When you've gotten used to feeling him inside you, he slowly starts to move, hitting your sweet spot after a few experimental thrusts, and it has you seeing stars. You wrap your legs around his hips, effectively pulling him even closer.

''You feel so good around me, Sweets, such a perfect, tight pussy for me to ruin,'' he growls in your ear, making you moan in response. It doesn't take long for both of you to cum, and when he's done, he pulls out carefully to let himself fall to the side.

''How're you feeling, Sweets?''

''Perfect,'' you tell him with a lovesick grin. It was everything you dreamt of and more. It was heaven.

[ronearoundblindly]

Ransom x reader

Enemies to lovers , bot came from wealthy backgrounds as one is a trust fund (ran) then the other has her life getting good with a buissness outside her family . Why are they enemies at first? Shes admired for not relying on her folks too much as a teen and down to earth , enjoys the finer things as she views them as a reward or gift but ransom Demands that shit they also bicker how shes freinds with people bellow her and she sasses him how he always rely on perks thats petty

Warnings: so. much. cursing. It's all from Ransom's point of view, and since he's a disturbing(ly sexy) asshole, that translates to language. Plus smut (protected sex) MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. Reader's background/company is ambiguous. Also of note is the 'enemies' portion is quite subtle. WC 4k

The Root of All Ransom, Part One (see series)

There’s new money and then there’s new money.

Ransom loves the smell of new, physical money, and because he spends so much of it, he gets to feel those crisp bills all the time. Sure, his black card gets the same look at a register, but the plastic gets tattered after a while. The metal cards are a nice touch. Hefty. Metal makes a great tapping sound when he’s bored of waiting for a retail worker to do their fucking job and let him leave already. Cash is easiest to toss down and run out. He likes all forms of money. Ransom is diverse that way.

You, however, you are the New Money, the shit that’s a title, the shit that’s been earned, and it reminds him of his mother’s ranting. ‘Self-made’ his ass. Grandpa Harlan never made Linda repay a dime; that’s not a million-dollar loan. That’s good, old-fashioned nepotism. That’s inheritance come early. Old Harlan is Old Money, but New Money You is just as stale.

“She’s a breath of fresh air,” the middle-aged woman beside him coos.

Fucking gross.

Each time Ransom sees you he gets a foul taste in his mouth. His nostrils flare. He can smell the budgeting on you even at a distance. For every one of these events (with swag bags and a charity write-off promise) where you make a speech after receiving an award for whatever—he’s already too bored to listen—Ransom drinks heavily to make it to the end of the night.

He hasn’t given a dime, mind you, but Harlan has, and Linda has. Neither of them ever wants to go hobnob. Linda would but can’t trust Richard at these things, so she sticks to daytime shindigs. Walt is a bumbling, awkward mess, so he can’t represent anything other than why big pharma for every neurosis exists. He’s not welcome. Instead, it falls to nowhere-else-to-be Ransom. 

He thought he’d hate the events as much as the company until he found a thick, silver lining: some starry-eyed wannabe is always seated at an adjacent table. Handsome, young Ransom is guaranteed someone to go home with. Bonus points if they give head during the car ride.

Tonight though, he fucks up.

Ransom Drysdale makes the mistake of chatting up your date: your friend, Mariah, from high school who’s in town for the weekend. She’s doing a remarkable impression of a bimbo socialite, and he’s already wasted most of the meal trying to land an unattainable prize—though not a worthwhile prize, obviously.

It’s not his fault; he was at the bar when you and Mariah arrived, so he had no clue.

He expects you to be defensive once you make your way back to the table after your speech and find your friend with him. Ran is sure his reputation precedes him. He looks great in the photo ops just as he looks for great ass. He thinks your smile seems forced until you get closer. All you do is tell them to enjoy themselves.

Mariah here looks like she’s about to drop to her knees under the table, and you’re gonna let her?

You can’t possibly be stupid enough to trust him, can you?

He snorts out a chuckle, thinking you may know your business but you clearly do not know people. He wants to fuck Mariah. Then he really wants Mariah to tell you about fucking him, ad nauseam, hopefully, multiple times. Then he’s not sure whether he’d prefer you want to fuck him or you be mad about him fucking Mariah. He’ll have to wait and see.

“Isn’t she the best,” Mariah tosses out as flippantly as her hair extensions over her exposed shoulders. “I’m surprised she wanted me to come instead of a real date.”

“Sure,” he swigs his whisky quickly, “but then I wouldn’t get you for the evening, too.”

If he’s not mistaken, Mariah just soaked the pretty little thong he can just see the outline of in her tight dress, so Ran lays on a few more easy moves and thinks it’s a done deal.

Alas, he is wrong, and you and your friend leave together smiling while he races to text a booty call to meet at his place in a half-hour.

It’s all very frustrating, and Ransom hates you that much more.

Ransom has two new coats, a half-dozen new shirts, a three-piece suit, three new pairs of shoes, and he’s looking for the piece de resistance: a scarf (or several).

He loves accessories because he loves to change things up. He gets bored extremely easily, and he feels better when he treats himself.

In Hermès, he eyes a few options. He might even bother to get that one for his mother just because it has a few hideous accent colors he knows she’ll hate. Linda will still smile tightly and fake gratitude; it’s the only type of gratitude she knows. He doesn’t find anything for himself though, so he heads to the counter and recognizes the curves of a woman’s backside…in a dress that he’s seen in multiple candid tabloid shots.

How old is that garment? Jesus. Have some pride, woman.

His bored greeting startles you.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you exclaim, hand over your heart, “good to see you again.”

Is it?

“Right,” he grumbles roughly. “What brings you out of your goodie-two-shoes hole this afternoon?”

You seem excited, but in a different way than he’s ever noticed. At events, you are the picture of humility, full of genuine gratitude (and possibly the only reason he knows what that looks like), but this is something else.

The salesman returns with your order and unboxes a Birkin bag for you to inspect.

Now you’re just plain giddy, overjoyed, and vibrating, and Ransom preens a little to see Ms. High-and-Mighty so lowered as to indulge in retail therapy.

That’s a twenty-five thousand dollar bag you’re holding.

“Nice color,” Ransom chides, but he isn’t rewarded with your deterrence. You simply turn to beam at him.

“My favorite!” Your hands return to sweeping over the beautiful pebbled leather. “I had to wait for years—which is fine—“ you quickly add “—but I promised myself I’d do ten hours a week of volunteer work to earn such an extravagance.”

“Are you going to use it?”

You nod without turning back to him.

“Are you going to enjoy it?”

Another saleswoman motions to help him with the scarf he holds, and Ransom says nothing to her but drops his black card on the counter.

“Very much so,” you say quietly, almost like a confession.

“Then what’s so crazy about that?”

You giggle. You actually giggle. You don’t tell him how wrong he is or judge his spending in any way, which is surprising when that’s all those events he knows you from are for—to get him to spend money their way.

Ransom doesn’t know what compels him to stand there with his small purchase and watch while your bag gets squared away. You don’t choose to wear it out of the store, something he finds patently ridiculous because it’s a fucking Birkin and you’re about to walk out of Hermes with it in a box in another bag.

He pushes off the counter to walk out with you, an idea springing up.

“You’ve met my mother, I believe.”

Your polite smile gives nothing away. “Yes, a few times. Very briefly.”

“Her birthday is next month—” he lets an employee open the door for you both “—her sixtieth, allegedly.”

“Oh, well, tell her happy birthday for me.”

“You could come.”

Your face scrunches but whether from his offer or the bright sun on the street, he doesn’t know. His sunglasses are already on. You rummage around in what looks like a tapestry bag on the bad side of vintage for yours. 

This is why you should have left using the Birkin, and he’s honestly surprised Hermès even served you looking like you do.

Where’s all that new money now, he thinks, because one bag is certainly not all of it.

“Why not? You both own businesses and run in similar circles.”

“Hugh, I don’t think—“

“Ransom,” he corrects with a sneer.

“Well, I just…” You regard him thoroughly for a long moment until a black car pulls up and its driver opens the door for you.

There it is. There’s a bit of pomp. He’s almost proud to see you being served. You’re just like him—or rather his family—in a way; you have help.

“Fine,” you say to Ransom while nodding to your driver, “text me the details, and I’ll see if I’m in town.” Even though your words are dismissive, they sound genuine and kind.

Yuck.

Your driver fishes a card from his breast pocket and curtly adds a ‘sir,’ before shutting you behind tinted windows.

Ok, so it’s not the easiest ‘yes’ he’s ever gotten. It wasn’t a ‘no’ either. Good news is that Ransom is not holding his breath. If it works, it works.

The idea is to flaunt you in front of Linda, not romantically, of course, but as a younger woman, perceived as better, more self-made, more successful, with a Birkin bag in his mother’s actual favorite color, while he gives her a scarf she’ll be revolted by. It’s perfect.

This did not at all go to plan.

Linda is supposed to be pissed. She’s supposed to be appalled and furious and have to hide that from her guests—which is most of the family, catering staff, and Harlan’s house help. She’s supposed to look at Ransom and know that he did this on purpose.

He told you not to bring a present for a reason, but he made damn sure when he picked you up that you were wearing that damn bag.

How the fuck was he supposed to know you’d go and be the dumbest bitch ever?

Linda got through two whole sentences of greeting after obviously clocking the Birkin and then turned it about her. She’s predictable that way, but you are not.

“That’s my favorite color,” she said.

“Mine too,” you said.

You both fucking laughed.

“I’ve always wanted one,” she said.

“You should have one,” you said.

He should have known right then except for on what planet does someone…

Ransom only stepped out for a few minutes to mess with Walt, smoking that sickening cigar. When he comes back in, there on the table right beside Linda is your bag. He looks around, but you aren’t in the living room. Then his mom smiles and pets the Birkin possessively.

“Oh, Ran, that girl is so sweet,” Linda coos.

Richard snorts in astonishment. “She’s really something.”

Ransom cringes at the lustful leer on his father’s face while he stares off toward the library.

What the shit? 

You gave his mother your bag? After one minute of conversation?

God fucking damn it.

He has no words. Ran just purses his lips and stalks off to the other room in search of you. You’re deep in conversation with Harlan, seated across from each other in the bay windows of the library in high-backed upholstered chairs. On the floor beside your foot is a Blood Like Wine tote, partially filled.

“Grandpa,” he interrupts, leaning one arm against your chair with a questioning gaze.

“Ransom, my boy, it’s good to see you.” Before he can get a word in, Harlan waves an arthritis-gnarled hand in your direction. “Have you met my neighbor?”

“Neighbor?”

You shrug with a weak smile. “I purchased the Carlyles’ old property last year but kept my apartment in town.”

He’s thrown off by this news, thinking. “That’s walking distance from here,” Ransom says flatly.

“Yes, it is. That’s why I can find my own way home tonight.”

“Ah,” Harlan taps his nose, “so you two know each other.”

“Your grandson was kind enough to invite me.”

“And you made quite a fucking impression,” Ransom growls while putting a hand on your shoulder.

Harlan flicks Ransom away. “Don’t be creepy, son. Get the lady a drink.”

“Mr. Thrombey, please.” You stand, forcibly pushing his hand off of you. “Ransom’s your family. Why don’t I get you boys something while you catch up?”

“Whiskey, neat, two fingers,” Ransom bitterly spits, shoving the hand in his jean pocket.

Harlan tsks him with a solemn look.

“The same,” his grandfather sighs before returning your smile. “I appreciate it, dear.”

“Anytime.”

Ran fights the urge to kick your tote on the floor.

Harlan simply moves on. “One of my next novels is an intrigue of corruption, involves a non-profit, and Good Miss was enlightening me to a few details of their inner workings.”

“Glad you both can turn it off for five minutes,” Ransom grunts back.

Harlan’s sharp gaze lands on him.

“While I am glad you did not use her and lose her, as they say.”

“God, no,” Ransom groans in revulsion. “She’s here to rub Linda the wrong way…not me.” He tries to bury his self-satisfied smirk in a sweater sleeve held to his mouth.

“Charming.” Harlan means anything but charming as he looks to see you side-tracked again by a chat with Marta. “You’ve done much worse before—“ he turns to the window “—but my guess is she never has.”

Ransom’s jaw twitches. This is why he hates his family, even his favorite among them. No wonder he brought someone exclusively to annoy them, hoping to make them feel small and selfish, but he forgot something important.

They’re all like him. None of them care to be selfless. They don’t want to be charitable. They are fine being perceived that way, if necessary, if it gains them something else they want.

But.

What Harlan says gives him another idea. What if he keeps you around? They are sure to lose their minds. Harlan would be impressed (and proved wrong). Richard will be jealous (although that’s still gross). Linda would be unable to manipulate that situation (though she’ll try).

Plus, Joni will hate you instantly because you’re prettier and don’t need her snake-oil skin shit.

“Harlan,” you offer his grandfather his drink first, then turn to Ran with that irritatingly kind smile. “Hugh.”

He takes the glass and flashes pearly whites.

It’s decided. He just hopes the sex won’t be as boring as he thinks. You’re definitely not a roadhead bitch.

Although based on that damn Birkin, you are stupidly generous, so he hopes that translates to the bed…or wherever he fucks you.

“Sure your shoes can take it?”

As if he can’t walk across the fucking woods…the embers of waning alcohol all push around in his gut on the trek over to the Carlyles’ place. He hasn’t gone over there since maybe freshman year of high school during a long Christmas stay at Thrombey Manor.

He was wrong. Ran’s shoes are not fine, but he has to bury that irritation down deep while entering the warm and inviting mansion filled with your...roommates?

Four other people live in a house that you sometimes stay in: Angela, Diego, Terrell, and Luca.

Ran doesn’t fucking care. This is not some weird orgy he’s planning. He almost walks right back out and floors the Beamer back to civilization.

Mercifully, you have most of the upstairs entirely to yourself, a small suite of a bedroom, office, and bathroom neatly tucked above a quieter part of the house.

He’s surprised that you drop the tote bag and start shedding clothes so quickly.

“Sorry about them. We all went to uni together and this works as a crash-pad for the internationals.”

“No problem,” he sighs, “I know what it’s like.” They’re freeloaders, like my cousin Meg, is what they are, but Ransom keeps that thought to himself.

You offer him another drink, which Ran accepts, watching you like a hawk with sky-blue eyes.

Beneath your dress, you wear a slip, a silky satin thing that actually impresses him. He’s convinced there is thick shapewear beneath it because that just seems like a you thing to do: one sexy move, one boner killer. Instead of showing him though, you spin your finger around in front of him.

“Really,” he quips. He’s already resigned to putting his dick in either way, so he doesn’t really care.

You smile too sweetly for it to read as coy. “Make yourself useful and go to my bag.”

“That’s not a bag,” he scoffs. “Might as well be made of tissue paper.”

He still obediently wanders over to the chair you draped it over and flips back a handle. Excellent. This nearly makes up for the entire party. Ran derives a sickening amount of pleasure from knowing these condoms were stored in the Birkin his mother will now carry around with pride.

He downs the remainder of his drink and whips out a wrapper. He wouldn’t care if you didn’t have any, or didn’t want to use one, or if you made some reference to them but the lights were off and didn’t check. The lights are still on though, and you’ve pointed him right to them. He’ll play ball. He hopes you play with balls, too. He hopes this is fun instead of just mediocre. He prepares himself to be actively bored, however, because that’s the most likely scenario.

It’s his usual MO. Works like a charm. Start out slow and teasing—girls tend to think it’s sensual but he’s being lazy (and they beg soon anyway)—until he can take over in exactly whatever fashion he wants. Except you don’t quite let things unfold that way.

He expects you to want him to kiss you, but you playfully turn away each time he advances. You swat his hands when he tries to touch you, only to grab the hem of his sweater and rip it off him. You don’t wait for him to unbutton his jeans before sliding cool fingers down past the band of his boxers.

Fuck, he does like it when they're forward.

He pops the button, pushes the zipper, and shuffles out of the heavy cotton while you get a good hold of him. Ransom doesn’t care that your hands are soft, just rough enough for friction and nothing more, and he doesn’t really care that your slip is still on because he’s figured something else out.

You’re not wearing underwear. He’s not sure if you were but tossed them aside while he grabbed the condom, or perhaps you’ve been speaking with his family for the better part of two hours with your cunt kissed by the same air they were all breathing, but he’s happy about it.

Ransom leans forward to you again, but instead of letting him kiss you, you look down to spit in your hand and work him harder.

“The sooner you suit up…” you taunt him, glancing at the wrapper still clutched in Ran’s hand, “sooner you get in for the night.”

He’s been with bossy doms before—not his favorite—but this is different. His instinct is that you want a show of it, maybe you want to see him touch himself, maybe you want to see his face as the tight latex is rolled down his throbbing cock, but you hold his gaze while turning your body away from him.

Since he doesn’t have to play up how he looks, Ran focuses on the expanse of skin across your back. There’s so much more than your dress showed, yet not enough, and it’s beautiful. He thinks about the same, smooth skin that must be stretched across your ass and rolls his hips against the fabric while his mouth maps your neck and shoulders.

Not romantically, of course, he’s not trying to make you feel better—you are more than capable of feeling yourself, but Ransom enjoys a little taunting of his own now and then.

His hands move to cup your breasts, and fuck, did you not have a bra on earlier either? This day is full of surprises.

His intense rutting coupled with teasing your taut nipples makes your slip catch between your ass cheeks, and he angles his dick to press through the apex of your thighs, taking the satin with him.

Pretty skin beneath his lips, pretty noises ringing in his ears, Ran pulls away.

The fresh wet spot on your slip sticks to the condom when he looks down at his demanding erection.

You’re ready. He’s ready.

Fuck, Ransom is so ready, and you know it, climbing onto the edge of your bed to get comfortable presented in all your glory, all the lights on, fingers already teasing and working yourself open.

This is already way better than he expected. He doesn’t have to work. He doesn’t have to try. He doesn’t have to fake interest. You handle your clit like the expert you are on yourself, and Ran works himself up, sheathed and thrusting in you like the expert he is on himself. Pleasure for pleasure, and fuck is it pleasurable. 

His fist holds onto the bundled satin across the small of your back, and you make natural escalating noises.

It sounds genuine.

Shit, when was the last time he didn’t get annoyed at some bitch hamming up her moans? Not that it distracted him from coming, no, he could get him whether she was dramatic or an awkward, silent one. Takes more effort when he has to ignore something she’s doing though. 

Then you demand he goes faster, and he’s into it. Then you come with a groan that’ll haunt his hindbrain, and he can feel the massaging grip and release. Then you take his balls in hand, tugging gently, and he fucking loses it.

He feels the hot flood of his cum into the condom as your walls still ripple against him. 

Damn, he doesn’t even care if you made him wrap up. That was fucking satisfying. It wasn’t even complicated, but you came and he came and that’s all he needed.

Ransom hasn’t been at a girl’s place in a while (certainly not without his car ready to get away) because he prefers to kick them out and already be home, but his hookups are usually clinging to the idea of staying the night.

You immediately go to the bathroom, clean up, and—now completely naked—stand at the foot of the bed.

“You good, Hugh? I’m on a call with Beijing in fifteen, so take your time—“ you button up a plain, blue shirt, your nipples showing right through “—or sleep or whatever. I’ll be a bit.”

“Only the help calls me Hugh.” It’s all he can come up with while he stares at your breasts and contemplates why he feels a bit used.

He got off, you’re not clinging to him, and you’ve given him an easy out. If he had to describe his perfect fucking date, this would be it, and his gut twists oddly just thinking about being dismissed.

You don’t miss a beat, heading for the door with only panties and the shirt on. Your ass pops out easily from under the hem.

“Suppose I’ll see you at the Kennedy thing next weekend, huh?”

Ran slaps his hand over his face, remembering there’s another fucking event coming up. “Yeah. Is that the stupid inner-city garden initiative?”

You hum in response, grabbing something else out of your flimsy purse tote. He better not see you carry that fucking thing around in front of actual fucking people. You don’t see him staring at your ass through his fingers before you swivel back around.

“If you need something, text me. Don’t knock.”

He snorts, knowing that he wouldn’t stay if a girl paid him to.

For one shining moment, you turn to beam at him. “Thanks for making it quick,” you chirp with a wink and shut the door behind you.

You goddamn wink at him after chucking him into the quickie category in your own mansion.

What the fuck?

Out of spite, he should just sleep here, he thinks. Let Harlan question why the Beamer is still in the drive. Let Walt stare at the car and know Ransom can get better pussy than that twat has had in a lifetime. Let Linda…

Hell, let Linda do whatever the fuck she wants and let Richard think whatever the fuck he wants.

Ransom takes his own naked walk of glory to the bathroom and does just that—he sleeps in a hookup’s bed all night, completely pleased with himself and his control of the situation.

a/n: Honest to god, this was supposed to be a one-shot. Genuinely, I swear. Now that I've plotted it out though...there was no way. I just personally don't really like more than 5k per Tumblr post. Too easy to lose your place. This way we stick with a three-ish-act structure, too. Squee! Hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know what you think in comments, reblogs, or anon asks!

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