#Ransom Thrombey x female reader

[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

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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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[chuckbass-love]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This | Ransom Drysdale | Part 12

A/N: Yet again, i have left this way too long and at this point there are no excuses except life being life. I really hope y’all are still invested in this and if not then i completely understand.

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

Summary: The moment you’ve put off finally arrives and you’re scared, but what will happen if the test is positive? 

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, swearing, vaginal intercourse, anal fingering, daddy kink, cum play, sweet Ransom moment (again to make up for such serious moments in this part) 18+ again, being as the entire series thus far has been 18+. Enjoy guys💕

Word Count: 4,380

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

Noise. Suddenly, when time is moving extremely slow and you’re impatiently waiting with bated breath, for something so important, there’s always too much noise. Noise that you barely even notice in your day to day life when you’re rushing around completing errands or running out of the door for work. Even when falling asleep in the pitch black and silence, the noise is louder now than it is then.

Like the clock in your bedroom, above the en suite door. Despite having a timer on Ransoms phone set already, you can practically feel that damn clock laughing at you, mocking you and telling you that you still have one more minute left.

One more minute.

Or the wind outside, smashing against the double glazed windows, making your ears ring. God knows why.

And then there’s the noise you can’t hear too well but faintly, and that’s still enough. 

The washing machine and the dryer in the laundry room. Rattling.

Tick, tick, tick.

One more minute.

One more minute before your life might change forever. 

You never thought you’d see this side of Ransom, the side where he’s switched on, attentive, loving and willing to try and be there, no matter the outcome of this dam test. 

Why is it taking so long. Your knee starts to bounce off its own accord. You can’t stop it. Just like your hands, they shake a little, anticipation is the sole cause. Oh and nerves. Your anxiety is wracking your entire body. 

Dare you glance down at the timer on the iPhone on the bathroom side.

45 seconds left.

You start too whisper, counting down as your knee starts to bounce more, your nails picking at the nails on your other hand until a soothing hand comes to stop it.

“I’ve got you baby” 

30 seconds left.

“What if it’s positive?” your worried eyes search his for some reassurance, needing him now more than ever to show and possess the strength you don’t have.

It’s been a whirlwind couple months, from breaking up with Ransom to getting back together with him, then dealing with his bastard of a friend...well, ex-friend. And then having him use your sister, your own flesh and blood, to get back at Ransom. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with and in the midst of all of it, you can’t help but admit you have been careless with safety during sex. It’s kind of hard to stay on top of things when the last thing on your mind is safety. All you want lately is to feel him close, skin to skin, for him to ease the anxious feelings away with his body. His touch, his kiss. So powerful, so gentle yet rough.

It’s what you always seem to need lately.

And if those needs have resulted in a tiny human growing inside of you.. would that be so bad?

“Then we’ll deal with it, we’ll sort this together. You and me”

Sort this? Deal with it?

Does he mean -

You can barely even let that thought manifest and clearly your knee is working overtime and you’ve gone back to picking at your hands and nails again as Ransom stills both. Using one hand to force your eyes to his.

“Y/N, baby. Look at me. I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded. I meant that we’ll talk about it. We’ll cope and get through this however we need to. We’ll discuss this together..okay?”

You feel yourself nod as you look back down at the timer.

1 second left and...

The ringing sound of Ransoms alarm goes off, startling you despite knowing it was coming.

You take a deep breath, waiting a second so that you can calm your hands and that shaky knee of yours before you look at Ransom and pick the test up. His hand over yours, holding it as you both bite the bullet and glance.

Two lines. 

Two very clear, very real lines. 

You feel his hand grip the test to look at it properly without you. He takes it and stands up as he begins to pace the small bedroom. His large frame taking up all of the space. 

Were you too quick to believe his promises of being there no matter the result? Did you buy into that false sense of security yet again?

Everything moves in slow motion, even your thoughts. You daren’t disturb him while he paces, with his eyes fixated on those two lines. He’s processing. Internally cursing this baby inside of you. Or at least you think

Ransom’s POV

Two lines.

Two very clear, very real lines. 

I instantly feel claustrophobic, instantly need air. After pacing for what feels like forever, i feel worse. I need proper air, i need it now.

I rush to the window, practically cursing inside as i fumble with the handle, i push it open and lean there for a moment, breathing in and out rapidly, unable to catch my breath fully.

I needed that. That’s the air i needed. 

With my eyes shut and fresh air blasting my face, i start to cool down. The temperature in my face cools slowly but enough for me to regain a coherent train of thought.

It takes a minute before the thought of her comes back to me. I spin around instantly to find her, tears pooling in her eyes, a worried look on her face. I can tell that the first thing she thought of when she saw me just now was that i’m angry. 

How wrong could she be.

I rush to her side, pulling her close to me so i can hold her.

“Shhh, i got you. I’ve got you” i soothe, or at least attempt to as she sniffles into my chest.

“A-are you mad?” her voice comes out just above a whisper, while a rogue tear slips down her cheek and onto my chest.

“Of course not”... “why would i be?”

It seems logical in my head, why would i be mad? How could i be mad?

I’m happy, albeit overwhelmed but happy nonetheless.

“You’ve barely said a word’

“It’s overwhelming that’s all darling, it’s a lot to take in and i can’t even imagine how you must be feeling. Talk to me”

Your POV  

You pull away from his chest, wiping your tear stained face as you swallow your nerves down as best as you can so that you can get your thoughts out into words.

“I’ve always known that i’ve wanted to be a mother. Even when i was younger with my sisters, playing moms and dads” that earns a chuckle from your sweet but misunderstood boyfriend. 

His arm cradles you as you continue.

“But that’s a far cry from that to this, to doing it, for real. Having a tiny human depend on you for everything. It’s also the unexpected, perhaps. The fact that this wasn’t planned. We’ve been so preoccupied lately, being careful when having sex hasn’t exactly been at the forefront of our minds. But what if it was meant to be that way?”

“How do you mean?”

“What if this was always supposed to happen. This little life growing inside of me as we speak. Sometimes things happen when you least expect it, for a reason” 

I feel silly saying that but it’s true. Life can have a funny way of challenging you, and doing it in ways you wouldn’t expect. 

You look up at him, searching his eyes for anything to show that he’s truly okay with the outcome of the test.

Facing a positive pregnancy test was certainly not on your plans for this year, but what matters is how you deal with it, how you communicate with one another about this. It may be your body but you want the choice to be one you make with both yours and Ransoms input. It took the two of you to create this life. It’s only right the two of you decide what happens.

Your hand naturally goes to your stomach and you gently rub your thumb across it, wondering what life would be like with a baby. How Ransom would hold up as a father. You know he’d be a whole lot better than his father, that’s for sure. Which let’s face it, isn’t a hard feat at all. Richard Drysdale is a bastard of a man. And you know that Ransom wouldn’t mind you saying that. It’s a fact. 

Ransoms hand joins you, his thick and long fingers fingers guiding your own to stroke your stomach.

“We don’t have to decide just yet” he starts, getting down on his knees in front of your bed and positioning himself in between your legs, parting them as he inches closer. A position you’ve had him in more than once. It brings heat to your sex. You can’t help it. The man is quite literally a sex god. 

You’re sat here, in the midst of a serious conversation and yet you’re in the mood to be intimate. This man can literally touch you in any way, be in front of you talking about politics or even pissing you off in some form and you still feel that invisible string, pulling you to him, like a magnetic force. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. However, times like these make you want him all the more. 

His eyes darken as he catches yours doing the same, he knows that look.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, if that’s okay?” you murmur, your hands roaming down his tanned and toned body, abs for days, that sexy V-shape leading into his boxers, where his not so mysterious size awaits you. 

You need him, god you need him more than you need to breathe. Everything is aching, your anxiety wreaking havoc on your body once again, you need a distraction, just for right now. You know that you can’t avoid it forever, but you can allow yourself to forget, just for today. Or even just for right now. 

“Oh yeah, and what do you want, hm?” his finger crooks under your chin, lifting it up, not allowing you to avoid his eyes. “Come on, tell me princess. This only works if we communicate” his voice is going deeper as he finishes talking. He knows exactly what you want, but as always, in true Ransom fashion, he’s making you work for it. Just the way that you like.

“I want you. No, i need you. I need you so badly. Your touch, your hands. I need it all over me. Afterwards i promise we can discuss the pregnancy. I just need to be close to you. Please” your doe eyes cause him to falter his usual Daddy persona. 

“Like this?” he rasps, manoeuvring so that you’re laying down on the bed and he’s on top of you, his hands gripping your ass before leading up your body, squeezing and gripping every curve, his soft sighs make it clear how much he wants you too. No spot untouched.

You hum in appreciation and agreement with his words and he continues, his face burying into your neck, kissing, licking and biting like a wild animal desperate for his next feed. You’re his prey. Always have been since day one. You belong to him.

“Use your words, slut” his demand comes with a menacing drawl, one you would never wish to ignore. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. When he’s in this zone, this fantasy of your owner, Ransom is not to be tested. Best believe he will always come out on top.

“Y-yes, like that” you moan breathlessly as his hands slide up to the tie of your robe, his fingers barely need to work at it before it opens, giving him better access to you and that sexy goddess like body of yours, or at least that’s how he’s always seen it. You’ve never once had to wonder if he’s into you, his reaction to you is enough confirmation.

Ransom moves you to the centre of the bed, spreading your legs before moving in between them once again. “Yes, what?” his eyebrows raise, a playful smirk on his beautiful face.

“Yes Daddy” 

And that was all he needed to begin.

His lips pucker as he places kisses along your stomach, working his way up to your neck, gentle kisses at first. But the higher he gets, the more hungry he becomes, nipping you here, licking you there. Your chest starts to rise and fall quite quickly now, your cheeks flush as he reaches your breasts.

No matter how many times he looks at them, feels them in his hands and plays with them, he loves them. It’s like he’s obsessed with showing every significant part of your body some love. But then again, when it comes to Ransom, every part of your body is significant. Every. Single. Inch.

“Look at these nipples of yours, all ready for me. I’ve barely even touched you” his pleased tone makes you smile a little. Daddy Ransom is here for real now. 

You prepare yourself mentally for the rollercoaster your body is about to be put through. 

His index fingers and thumbs roll the pert nipples as he kisses the valley between your breasts, licking his way to one nipple to bite it ever so slightly, enough to make you jolt in surprise before repeating the same on the other. His pleasure comes with a build up, a build up that renders you desperate for him, desperate for his cock. But it’s all worth it. 

“Being so patient for me, baby. Such a fuckin’ good girl” his New England drawl makes you wetter, the pool of arousal at your entrance causes you to wriggle and writhe, needing to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief. But with Ransom between your legs, you’re trapped. 

“Woah woah, what happened to patience” his hand moves down towards your sex as his face moves inches above yours “behave” his words come as he smacks at it. He repeats it once more before continuing his journey to your neck. His mouth starts to suck and bite the tender skin, it’s bound to leave a mark, proof to everyone that he was here. His intention.

You wait for him to move up to your face to give you a kiss and when he does it’s messy, emotional and needy. Tongues moving and colliding, your hands gripping his face before he moves them above your head. One hand of his holding them there while he reaches for the handcuffs in the bedside table draw. Your eyes widen as your brain can only imagine what is in store for you. Rough sex with zero mercy. He plans to fuck you until you beg for him to stop. Just the way you like him to. The arousal worsens as he straddles your chest, tying you to your headboard.

Once you’re attached, no escaping, he gets off of the bed to step out of his boxers slowly. The teasing only makes you more in need for him. And then theres his cock. God it’s like he was sculpted to perfection and brought to you to continuously render you speechless. Every day that you get to look at him and that body of his is a gift that keeps giving. 

Your eyes rake over him one time too many but he doesn’t mind. In fact the cocky bastard loves it. It boosts his already inflated ego when it comes to his appearance. 

That’s Ransom for you, he looks good and he knows it. He’s used that to his advantage plenty of times. You recall him doing the same for you when you first met.

“Like what you see, baby?” he winks, that wink makes you melt but you forget you’re stuck in place by those handcuffs. 

You nod, practically salivating at the sight.

“Please” you beg, pathetically. 

“I need you” the whimpers fall on death ears as he climbs back onto the bed, fisting his hardened cock for you to watch as his own eyes rake over you. He knows he’s one lucky man. 

“Do you now? How much?” Like you said, he’s a bastard. 

“Badly, i’m so wet for you. Please” 

And with that, he spreads your legs further, inspecting you with his eyes before his index finger starts to rub at your clit a little while his middle finger explores your folds until it’s at your entrance, rubbing your juices around.

“So you are” he hums in appreciation before lifting your legs up a little and bending down. 

His mouth attacks your pussy, making you whimper in shock. It’s never been so easy before to get him to give in. He must need you just as much, if not more. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good” his growling and breathy voice turns you on more, god you love him. So fucking much. You love the way he relentlessly attacks your body with his mouth, hands and cock. He just knows what you need. 

You’ve been here so many times now, danced this same dance. You’re fluent in each others bodies language. Knowing every weakness, every tell tale sign of an orgasm, every pressure point that gets the other begging for more. However, you rarely get to use your knowledge as Ransom enjoys dominating too much, and who are you to argue?

Your hips buck up as you grind into his face.

“You eat my pussy so good Daddy” you whimper, desperate for more of him, his teeth nip not so gently at your demanding clit but it spurs you on. You thrust faster and faster before he holds you still, your thighs wrapped tightly around is head as his nails dig into your soft skin. He’s hungry.

That all too familiar rope in your stomach starts to tighten, your climax building, and building and building. Until one last flicker of his strong tongue causes the rope to snap. 

You cry out, his name falling off of your tongue like a prayer, all to familiar. He licks you through the orgasm while your legs shake around his head, just the way he likes. You’re so sensitive but he wants more, who are you to deny him. His tongue now lapping up all he forced from your body, the juices make him groan

He forces your body back to the bed, allowing you too lay there while he stares at you. In awe, perhaps.

His hands wrap around his hardened cock as he moves over you so that your legs can lock around his torso, keeping the two of you connected, while your hands aren’t available.

“You want this cock inside of you? Gonna be my good little slut, hm?” his filthy words only make you want him more, you shake the cuffs in attempt to free yourself so that you can touch him, wanting him inside of you faster.

The taunting tuts he gives you, warning you about rushing him. Ransom is especially thorough when it comes to giving pleasure. He likes to make sure no stone is left unturned, leaving you a puddle of satisfaction with shaky legs for further proof. 

“I need it inside of me, i need you. Make me your slut, use me for your own pleasure” you plead, doe eyes returning as you bite your lip seductively. That’ll do it, the final nail in your coffin, clearly, as he slides into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch.

Two sets of eyes close in tandem as pleasure envelopes both of you. All of your stress from the last 48 hours vanishes in a heartbeat. Tension disappears. 

You know you have to face everything soon but this is a short term distraction, one you are both welcoming with open arms. It’s what you need right now, no harm in satisfying that. 

His thrusts speed up as he grips your legs, pushing them up and back. Folding you over so that he can push down on the backs of your thighs, using it as leverage for him to go to town. Fucking into you with reckless abandon, giving you all that he has. All of his confusion about the new circumstance you’ve found yourselves in, all of the tension that piled on top of him the moment he saw those two lines. All of it is channeled into this moment right now.

“So fucking wet for me, baby. My god” the sound of his balls slapping against your asshole mixed with the sound of your juices each time he drives his cock balls deep into you bounces off of the walls, making you glad you live alone. 

His hands move to splay across your ass, gripping it so tight that his nails dig in, leaving a mark for certain. You wince but revel in the pain of it, the beautiful pain. 

“You feel so good inside of me, daddy. Are you proud of me, taking all of you like the good little slut you turned me into mm?”

His eyes darken, his brows scrunch as his middle finger circles your puckered hole, so tight, so fucking tight.

He throws his head back grunting as his thrusts get more aggressive before sucking that same finger and circling the hole again. He pushes it in slowly, blowing out a deep breath he’d been holding in until his finger slipped inside, just a little. It’s been a while since he played with your ass like this.

Oh how you’ve missed it. Pushing in and out, he works it in deeper each time, training it to take all of that finger. 

God you’re so good for him, he needs you to keep being good, to keep taking what he dishes out. You’re always good, so perfect, so precious. 

He loses control, rough isn’t the word for how he’s fucking you, his finger getting faster with its movements, working in time with his cock as it moves in and out of your soaking wet pussy, your juices covering it tip to base. 

Yet again, the tell tale sign of an impending orgasm washes over you as you cry to be released. His one free hand moves up momentarily to pick the key up for the cuffs. You nod rapidly, signalling to him to free you. You need to be closer, you need to touch him.

Ransom notices this, smirking as he speeds the pace of his finger up a notch, working harder to push you through that orgasm you’ve needed so much. “Is my good girl gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a big mess all over daddy’s cock?Give it to me baby, come on, give me that cum, i need it like i need fucking air to breathe. Come on, slut, cum on this cock. Give yourself a mess to clean once i free those hands”

His words are enough to push you over the edge as you cry out once again, for the second time today he’s the reason for your relentless pleasure. Your pussy walls clench down on him, again and again and again, making him moan along with you. He pulls out quick, pushing the key into the lock to free you at last before manhandling you around so that you’re on your knees on the floor, in between his naked legs, sucking his cock. 

His hips buck, forcing you to take all of him, one punishing thrust after another, saliva drips from your mouth each time he pulls out. His hands grip your hair, giving you no choice but to comply. All while your cum drips from your stretched out and satisfied hole. 

Pleasuring your man brings you pleasure too, you can’t help but feel the same old need for more as you service his cock with your mouth, bringing him close to his own orgasm. But before you swallow it, you pull off in time for him to spray your chest. His arousal covering your breasts fully. You waste no time in playing with it, moving it all across with your fingers before licking it off slowly, seductively. His eyes follow your every move, amazed.

“You’re so sexy, you know that, right?” 

You nod, confidently. You don’t always know it but in this moment right now, you believe it wholeheartedly. Nothing could stop you from showing it to him. 

The taste of him makes your pussy throb non stop.

Look at you, such a desperate slut, constantly craving his cock. 

His thumb strokes your chin as he leans over you, catching a drop that didn’t quite make your mouth before you take it and suck the remains off. 

“That, my darling, is certainly my favourite distraction” he hums with satisfaction as he stands up, towering over you before picking you up and carrying you to the en suite. “But let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Then we can talk about that test”

You nod before resting your head on his chest as he walks you into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

Sooner or later you’ll need to face that test, and as nervous as you are. There’s no one you’d rather have those difficult conversations with.

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

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[chrisevansispapi]

In law

summary: Ransom's mom hates reader's fame and wealth but she doesn't know reader is sharing her fortune with her son.

warning: fluff, breeding kink only if u squint and annoying in laws.

READER

I was bored in bed, after Ransom left for work, I had this goal in my head to get him back in the house.

I opened the buttons of his button up I was wearing and propped up my phone, I press record and glided my hand against my body, "missin' you a lot hubby" I sent the message with the video.

"sit tight"

I smiled knowing he was well on his way.

I was just scrolling through IG as I heard someone barge in the room, "hey dad-" I looked up and dropped my phone screaming, "FUCK" I covered myself with the sheets,"I knew it, you're milions are from milking men" Linda said, "Oh,Linda...I have only milked one man in my life and its your son-"

"Young lady, I don't know who you think you are wearing my son's designer clothes and laying in his bed by,tempting him—" The rage in Linda was boiling to the brim waiting to spill,I stood up from the bed and to stand beside Ransom.

Ransom held my hips as I defended myself "Uhm—first and foremost, how dare you barge in? and second of all... you mean our marital bed" I showed off my engagement ring and the wedding band,there it was rage spilling from Linda's head making me smile and Ransom chuckle.

"Ransom,at the count of ten I want your slut to be out of this house" Linda screeched to her laughing son. I pout at Linda teasingly. "No,can do,mom... she's pregnant, can't throw her out now" Ransom pulled me to his side,as I looked up at him and back at his mother.

Linda stared me down and immediately walked out.

I chuckled, "I'm not pregnant" Ransom smiled and kissed my lips with his soft pink ones, "Not yet, anyway" He said against my lips making me smile warmly.

"Really?" I teased him and he just growled against my lips making me giggle in excitement.

[crazyunsexycool]

The love we gave away.

Chapter 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warning: mentioned child abuse, teenage pregnancy, talks about adoption (should this be a warning?), lil bit of angst.

A/N: this chapter had been written a few days ago but I didn’t want to post it until I posted the current chapter for is it a crime? Anyways, we get a bit of soft Ransom, which he only is with the twins and reader. But don’t worry the drama and the angst will be here soon!!!

Series masterlist

Ransom was a nervous wreck from the moment his assistant handed him the note with your name on it. It had been so long since he spoke to you although he thought about you every single day. He didn’t know how you still managed to have a hold on him. Your relationship had been a first for him. A first of many things actually but he’d never admit it out loud. He’d found love with you. You’d been so gentle with him and from the first date he was hooked.

When you told him you were pregnant he freaked, rightfully so. Linda and Richard Drysdale were going to kill him and he knew your parents weren’t any better. Deep down however he hoped you would have the baby. He didn’t know a single thing about them but if you were as caring and gentle with him he could imagine you would be the same as a mother. The thought itself was outrageous, you both had plans once you graduated high school. One of them was to go on vacation before starting college in the fall. Ransom had been working with his grandfather during the summer as part of a deal that the older man would fund the vacation. He wanted to surprise you and take you to the fashion capital of the world.

The day you told him that you were having twins he was speechless. When you told him you thought it was best to give the babies up for adoption, it broke his heart.

The day the twins were born Ransom finally understood what love truly was. He realized that neither you nor him had a way of taking care of the babies between school and work; there wouldn’t be time to actually look after them. Add on to that that both yours and his parents had pressured you into giving the babies up or being thrown to the streets, neither of you had a choice. Everything went downhill after that and before he realized what had happened you were gone. After that he swore off ever being in a relationship again. At least one that had such a deep emotional connection. Now he was known as a womanizer and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

After he got the courage to call you he was sure he’d been dreaming. The twins had found you and they wanted to meet him too. Once the conversation was over and you said your goodbyes Ransom headed into his walk-in closet and looked for a few minutes for a little box he kept hidden in a corner.

With a sigh Ransom walked back down to his study. He poured himself a drink and sat at his desk, opening the box. Inside there were two little hats, a picture and another small box. The little beanies were what the twins were wearing in the hospital, one pink with a bow and one blue. He’d grabbed them when the twins were being put into some actual clothes. The picture was of the four of you. He sat in the hospital bed beside you, he held your beautiful baby girl while you held your sweet baby boy. You both looked a mess, he was all red faced and with tear filled eyes and it was obvious you had just given birth, you looked so tired. Still you both smiled, they were small sad smiles but they were there. In the small box there was a ring. It was a small promise ring. Something to show you that he loved you no matter what had happened or what was to come. But he lost the courage to give it to you as he watched two total strangers walk out of the hospital with his kids. Leaving both of you empty handed and broken hearted. It’s like you had given away the love you had for each other. The days and even weeks afterwards were horrible. Your cries for your children were gut wrenching and they were burned into his memory.

Ransom started thinking about every question the kids might have and the answer he’d give. Soon he started to worry that they wouldn’t like him, maybe even hate him for giving them up. He fell asleep at his desk, slightly drunk so as to stop the voices of his parents telling him he would never be good enough to have a family of his own.

Before either of you knew it, the day you’d been waiting for had arrived. It was a gloomy Saturday afternoon. Ransom had traveled to New York from Boston a day before. You had sent him the information of the restaurant you’d picked. It was somewhere that had a private room and a back entrance for you to use. To Ransom’s surprise you were very well recognized to the point that sometimes paparazzi followed you along New York.

Ransom arrived early, he was way too nervous to sit in his hotel room for another minute. The private room had floor to ceiling windows and double doors leading to a small balcony that one could use to admire the city.

“Nice view right?” Your voice startled him and you giggled as his head whipped around to look at you. ��Hi, Ran.”

“Y/N.” He said breathlessly.

You were even more beautiful than he remembered. The smile you had was genuine and his heart ached as he realized you might be just as happy to see him as he is to see you. He took a few steps to close the gap and pull you into his embrace. This reunion was 14 years in the making and it was long overdue. Why hadn’t either of you seeked the other out?

“You look beautiful.” He murmured in your ear. You were dressed in a simple summer dress and sandals and your hair pulled back. But it was one of your designs so you wore it proudly.

“Thanks, you look great too. How have you been?”

“That’s a loaded question and something I would prefer to answer over drinks.”

“Hhmm. How long are you here for?” You ask as you both take a seat at one of the tables.

“I drive back home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Maybe we can catch up tomorrow morning?” You offer.

“I’d like that.”

The door that leads to the rest of the restaurant opens and Theodore and Abigail walk in. Your eyes are on Ransom as you watch him look at his kids for the first time. It made you want to cry the way his eyes held so much fondness for them.

“Hi, I’m Abigail and this is Theodore.” She introduces herself and puts her hand out for Ransom to take. When he doesn’t move she looks at you and you lay a hand on Ransom’s shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m Ransom, I’m your father.”

It felt surreal for everyone in the room to hear it. This was actually happening, the four of you were together again. Ransom stood and pulled out a seat for Abigail and you knew how nervous he was from the slight shake of his hand. Theodore just gave a quick hello and sat at the empty chair which happened to be next to you and across from Ransom.

“So what have you been doing the last few days? Have you gone to explore the city some more?” You ask to break the tension in the room.

“A bit, we’ve mostly still been unpacking our house.”

A server walks in and takes drink orders before leaving again.

“You can just ask whatever questions you have. I mean we all know why we’re here, there's no need to dance around it.” You offer.

Theodore just nods but doesn’t say anything. Abigail though takes out her phone and you look over at Ransom, silently questioning what is going on. He only shrugs in response and turns back to the twins.

“I wrote down some questions.” Abigail turns her phone for you to look at the notes app opened up. “So how did you two meet?”

“At school. English class, third period to be precise.”

You looked at Ransom, impressed that he remembered that.

“Give me some credit thimble. I offered you the seat next to me and you said ‘no thank you’ with a little scowl on your face.”

“The seat was taken and you pushed the kid out of it, you punk.”

Theodore and Abigail looked at each other and smiled while listening to your bickering.

“Anyways,” you wave your hand dismissively in Ransom’s direction. “After being there a few weeks there was this guy. What was his name? Was it Lance?”

“Yeah.”

“Well this guy Lance was a huge asshole.”

“Woah language thimble.” Ransom motions towards the kids. “Little ears.” Abigail laughs at that but Theodore bites back a smile.

You scoff.

“What was it that you called that guy that answered the door?”

“A dick.” Abigail supplies happily.

“She called my dad a dick. I think their little ears are safe.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry I didn’t know he was your dad.” Abigail hid her face in her hands.

“Nah it’s ok he really is a dick. But more on him later.” You shrug and Ransom nods in agreement. “Anyways, he kept annoying me about going out with him to the point where he cornered me and said that I should just give up and accept.”

“I hated that guy so I walked up to them and kicked his ass.”

“Then asked me out.” You rolled your eyes and they smiled. “But I said no to him too.”

“It took three weeks before I asked again. Then she said yes.”

“So you guys met and then you just got pregnant?” Theodore spoke up for the first time.

“No, we dated for a year before that ever happened.”

Theodore just stared at you, waiting for the actual story.

“Ok so…”

*****

Almost 16 years ago

“You’re what?” Ransom was freaking out as he paced back and forth in his room at the boarding school.

“I’m pregnant.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Yes. I went to a clinic and they confirmed it. Ransom what are we gonna do? My parents are going to kill me.” You started sobbing into your hands.

“Thimble, baby, no don’t say that.”

He sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. Ransom wanted to run. He was scared but he couldn’t imagine what it was like for you.

“We’ll figure it out ok? We will, I promise.”

He wasn’t sure how you were going to figure it out. You were both 16 and in high school. If that weren’t enough both of your parents were sure to lose their mind when they found out.

****

Ransom had been right. Richard, his father had beat the crap out of him. He had multiple bruises to prove it. When he finally saw you at school you barely looked at him but by the way you were holding yourself it was obvious something was done to you too.

When the school found out both of you were suspended. Your father had only referred to you as the whore or the slut if he wanted to talk to you. When the baby bump started to show he kicked you out. The only saving grace had been Harlan, Ransom’s grandfather, who had been in the city with the intention of finding out how you were doing. A neighbor had let you stay at the house for a few days but Harlan had offered two things. Security and seeing Ransom again after three months apart with no contact.

The minute you walked into Harlan’s mansion Ransom was on you. You both cried right there in the foyer and Ransom fell to his knees as his hand smoothed out the shirt you were wearing over your bump.

“It’s twins.” You revealed to him once you were able to talk. He looked up at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“There’s two of them?”

You just nodded.

“Ok, that’s fine. We can figure anything out.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and he stood up and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“Come on you’re staying in my room.”

Ransom’s room was a typical teenage boy’s room. Posters of bands and models on the walls. A mess of clothes on his desk chair. The least surprising was the books that made home of any available corner. He led you to his bed, which wasn’t made, and had you lay back against the headboard. His hand rested on your belly.

“Ransom we need to talk.” You said quietly.

“About what? Is something wrong? Do you want something? I can go down to the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head.

“Then what is it?” He moved to sit beside you.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.” He pleaded.

“No. It has to do with the babies.”

“Ok?”

“I think it would be better if we put the babies up for adoption.”

“But-“

“Just think about it.” You cut him off. “We don’t know the first thing about taking care of babies. I mean I’ve done some babysitting but it’s not enough. And where would we live?” Tears were already rolling down your cheek. “How would we pay for the things they need?”

“Hey, it’s ok. Why don’t you just rest and we’ll talk about it later.”

“Ok. Just don’t leave me.” You said but he knew you meant more than just leaving you to sleep alone.

“Never.”

Once your breathing evened out Ransom shed a few tears of his own.

****

It was just you and Ransom all alone in a room. The boy had been born first. A few minutes later it was the girl. You cried from relief and pain and grief. They gave you a few minutes alone, just you, Ransom and the babies. He sat in bed next to you. He held your son, while you held your daughter. After a few minutes you switched. You both cried endlessly as you held them and pressed soft kisses to the top of their heads.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry I can’t be your mommy.” You murmured to each of them softly between sobs.

You could hear Ransom talking to them too. A nurse came in and offered to take a picture of the four of you. Then before you knew it they were being taken away to meet their new family. Ransom laid in bed with you again and did the only thing he could, he held you.

*****

“Did you love each other at least?” Theodore asked, his eyes holding back tears.

“Absolutely.”

“Without a doubt.”

Both of you answer without any hesitation. You look over at Ransom and smile.

“Then why aren’t you still together?”

“Things weren’t easy after you were born. We tried our best but I think we just drifted apart. We were kids just a year older than you are now.”

“We didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. Having to give you up for adoption was the most difficult thing we’ve ever had to do.” Ransom adds.

“Yeah well, it sounds like a bunch of bullshit.”

“Teddy!” Abigail scolds as the three of you watch him get up and walk out. “I’m sorry about him. A lot has happened in the last year.” She says sadly.

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t imagine what it must be like to find out you’re adopted.”

“I’m gonna go check on him.” Abigail excuses herself.

“Well fuck. This is going great.”

Ransom also gets up and heads towards the balcony. A cigarette in his hand, you grab it before he can light it and throw it away.

“It’s not good for you and we don’t know if they have asthma or something.”

Ransom just scowls at you.

“Uhh I’m so scared.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Childish is what you are.”

“What if they never want to talk to us again?” You ask with a sigh.

“I don’t think that would happen. At least not on Abigail's part. Theodore seems the most hurt by it all, angry at the world.”

“Yeah, something else must have happened.” You turn back to look at Ransom. “But what do you think?”

He blows a breath out as he collects his thoughts.

“They’re beautiful, amazing. It’s obvious they’ve been well taken care of and loved. What more could we have asked for? That’s what’s always worried me, that the couple that adopted them wouldn’t have really cared for them.”

“Yeah, I thought about that all the time. It kept me up at night sometimes.”

You both stand there in silence with only the sounds of the city filling the air.

“Hey.” You hear from behind you. Abigail stood there with red rimmed eyes. Ransom moves first and places a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “I’m ok. Would it be ok if we kept going?” Her big blue eyes might as well pierce through Ransom because he nods dumbly.

Back inside Theodore is sitting at the table, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest and glowering at the table. The three of you sit back down but he won’t look at any of you. He reminded you so much of Ransom at that age.

“You said that your dad was a dick, were both your parents like that?”

“Loaded question.” Ransom said. “But yeah, my parents aren’t good people. My family as a whole actually. Except for my grandfather, Harlan. He helped us during the pregnancy.”

“Why didn’t he help you after we were born?” Theodore asked.

“Our parents wouldn’t allow it. My parents threatened to call the police and accuse him of kidnapping me since he lives in Boston. And since he’s so well known it would have been a huge issue.”

“Well known?” That piqued Theodore’s interest.

“Have you ever heard of the book called ‘Painting the Midnight sky’?”

“Yeah. It’s a mystery book.”

“Well my grandfather, you’re great grandfather, is the author.”

“Harlan Thrombey is your grandfather?”

“Yup.”

“Oh my god! This is so cool ! We have all his books.” Abigail explains. “I’ve currently been reading ‘When time runs out’ before bed.”

Theodore smiles at her excitement but it fades quickly.

“Well he’ll be happy to know that. I can even get you a copy of the book he’s writing now before it even hits the shelves.”

“Can you really?”

“Definitely.” Ransom smiles.

“What about your parents? You never finished telling us.” Theodore asked as he looked at you.

“They aren’t good people either. My dad’s a drunk, my mom’s a pushover. Or she used to be. It started with her doing as he said or she’d get the beating. Then she just started punishing me for no reason when she realized it made him happy.”

Ransom’s hand rested over yours in order to give you some comfort. When you looked up to meet Theodore and Abigail’s eyes they were horrified.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s horrible to hear but it’s the truth. My- our childhoods weren’t pretty.”

“I had Harlan but your mother-“

Theodore shot Ransom a look that let him know he didn’t see you that way.

“Your biological mother.” Ransom corrected but not without shooting a small glare back at Theodore. “Didn’t have anyone that cared for her in her family.”

“I only got into the private school because a teacher in my high school saw I had potential and he knew that the school had scholarships. He worked so hard to help me get in there. Fortunately it was a boarding school so I didn’t have to be at home five days a week or any days if I didn’t want to. It honestly saved my life.”

No one said anything for a few minutes. The food that had been set in front of you was getting colder by the minute.

“Ask another question. It’s ok I promise.” Ransom told Abigail.

“Did you always want to work in fashion?”

Your face lit up then and you nodded.

“Ever since I was little. I learned to sew when I was like 6. Then before she passed away my grandmother gave me a little sewing kit. After that I always fixed the buttons or little rips on my clothes.”

“What about you? What do you two like to do?”

“I like painting and baking mostly. I also love reading.”

“I like photography and I used to play hockey back home.”

Everyone turned to Ransom and waited for his answer.

“I work in publishing.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you always want to work as a publisher?”

“I always knew I wanted to follow in granddad’s footsteps. I wanted to be a writer but I don’t really think I’m good enough. Everything I know, I learned from him. So now I work in publishing.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent like that. Asking questions and everyone answering. Little by little Theodore opened up more. By the end of the get together he had even given you his phone number. Abigail immediately created a group chat between the four of you.

“Do you live in New York too?” Theodore asked Ransom.

“Nah, I live in Boston. It’s way better.”

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to.” Ransom shoots back at you.

You roll your eyes but turn to Abigail.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“Very sure. But thank you, and for all of this. I’m glad we were able to get together so quickly.” She said as she moved in to hug you.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

Surprisingly Theodore also gave you a hug. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, almost as if he was quietly telling you he didn’t hate you. Then they both hugged Ransom and you could see he was fighting back tears.

You and Ransom said your own quick goodbyes and went your separate ways. The reunion went better than expected although you knew they had more questions about what happened while you were pregnant. It was still a very sensitive subject for you to talk about. But you were willing to relive every part of it if it meant they would understand why you did what you did.

Instead of heading home you went into your studio. There were a few pieces that needed your attention and some inspiration had come to you. The studio was empty, just how you liked it. There was no need to turn on the lights yet as the clouds had started to disappear and the afternoon sun was lighting up the room. You turned some music on and went to work in your corner. There were fabric swatches, markers, pencils, a sketch pad and more sitting around the desk as you drew out some new ideas.

The afternoon turned into evening. The studio lights were now on as you fluttered around the open space. A mannequin sitting in the middle of the room with fabric draped over it as you pinned and shaped it to your liking. The music was still blasting and you were singing along happily unaware of your guest.

“I’m glad to see that some things don’t change.” Ransom’s voice echoed in the studio as the song changed. You screamed with fear since you didn’t expect anyone to be there much less watching you. When you turned he had a hand over his heart and his head thrown back in laughter.

“Ransom you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings.” He said as he lowered the volume on the speaker.

“What are you doing here?”

“I called your phone, you didn’t answer. I had a feeling that you’d be working so I took a chance and came here.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

You give a little hum as you continue to work with the last piece of loose fabric.

“Today was intense.” You finally say, knowing that that was the reason he was there. “What do you think about the whole situation?”

“I don’t know what to think. They’re great kids, better than what they would have been if I would have raised them.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I think you would have been a great dad. You still can be, if you decide to have kids. On purpose this time.”

“I doubt that. I’m not a great person and I’d be an awful father now.”

“Ran, you practically dropped everything to come to the city and meet them. If I would have asked you to come to the city the next day you would have done it. That counts for something.”

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away. He couldn’t handle the sincerity your words held.

“I think they’re hiding something though.”

“Me too.” Ransom agreed.

“And I’m not even sure what’s supposed to happen now. Should we talk with their parents? See if they’re ok with all of this?”

“Adoptive. We’re their parents too.” He corrects you.

“You know what I mean. Technically we signed away our rights, Ransom. I just don’t want there to be a big issue and then we can’t see them again at all.” You looked up from the dress you were working on to see him biting his nail the way he did when he was stressed about something.

You stopped what you were doing and walked over to him and pulled his hand away from his mouth. He in turn pulled your hand toward his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. Just like old times, it never failed to put a smile on your face.

“I brought you something.” He mumbled quickly while holding up a gift bag.

You smiled as you walked to the corner you had been working in and pulled something out of the drawer.

“It’s not wrapped but I have something for you too.”

You hold up the gift and he smiles as he hands you the gift he’d brought for you. The bag contained a small glass box and inside there was an antique sewing kit beautifully displayed. You smile fondly as you take in each individual item.

“This is beautiful Ransom, thank you.”

“A sweater? How do you even know my measurements?”

“I googled you and eyeballed it.” You smile proudly as he holds it against himself to show that it in fact will fit.

“It’s amazing and the scarf.”

“I hoped you were still into that. I remember you loved your scarves in high school. I know you love your sweaters in the fall.”

“No, I loved the scarf you made me. I never wore scarves before that.” He corrects and you stare at him.

“Why did you wear it if you didn’t like them?”

“You made it for me. No one had ever really thought about my needs like that or cared about my well being. I still have it, you know.” He admitted the last part with a whisper.

You invaded his space rather quickly and snaked your arms around his midsection. Ransom tensed slightly at the unexpected contact but then relaxed as his arms wrapped around you.

“Our parents really are shit aren’t they?”

“Yup.” He says.

“Promise me that you’ll be there for them. We’ll be better than our parents.”

“Y/N…” he said with a sigh. “I’m not a good person. I would probably be a bad influence for them.”

You pulled back slightly and tilted your head so that you could look at him. The worry in your eyes was enough to make him squirm. No one really ever cared for him the way you did and it always caught him off guard.

“Do you want to be in their lives or not? I want an honest answer and you can take time to think about it.”

“Of course I want to be in their lives. I just think I’m not a good person for teenagers to be around. I’m an asshole.”

“You weren’t an asshole today.”

“I was on my very best behavior.”

“Then be on your best behavior when you’re with them.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not.” You reply while resting your head against his chest again. “You’re going to struggle with it but if you’re serious about being in their lives you’ll try your best and that’s all you can do.”

“You’re so much better at this whole life thing than I am.”

You scoff as you finally pull away from him.

“I’m really not. I throw myself into work because it’s better than trying to have friendships or relationships.”

“Then let’s make a deal.”

You look up at him, curious as to what he’s about to suggest.

“I’ll work on not being such an asshole and you can get some friends.”

“We’re so fucked.” You laugh.

“Yeah, we are. But we’ll do it for the twins.”

“Yeah, we will.”

Ch. 3

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[buckets-and-trees]

Between the Lines

Characters/Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 4.4k Summary: When presented with a deal you can't resist, you agree to to create an illusion so you can achieve your actual dreams.

Content/Warnings: masturbation, slow burn, forced proximity, fake engagement, annoyed/disgusted to lovers

Notes: This takes place after the events of Knives Out. Yes, all of the movie. No exclusions. Dividers by @vesearartistry and @saradika. My humble offering for week seven of my Countdown to Chris-mas. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 and @biteofcherry for both indulging some of my plot-talking for this fic!

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You sat nervously in the lobby of Blood Like Wine Publishing watching the gears behind the glass display on the elegant clock above the reception desk.

Up until the death of Harlan Thrombey, the publishing house had published his works exclusively with a new murder mystery being produced and translated into dozens of languages each year like clockwork, the gears and cogs a well-tested as the antique clock on display.

With no Harlan, the publishing house had opened to submissions and you and your agent had made it through the initial rounds of querying and contract negotiations.

But now, only a year and a half after the prolific genius’s death and transfer of ownership to his nurse and friend Marta Cabrera, Marta had sold to a new owner - yet to go public in name, and they had asked for a meeting before finalizing the contract.

You tried not to fidget as you gripped the leather armrests of the chair, willing the minutes to pass faster. The lobby was eerily quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional rustle of papers and the soft clacking of the keyboard from the receptionist's desk. The walls were adorned with framed book covers, each one a testament to Harlan Thrombey's literary legacy. You couldn't help but wonder if your own work would ever grace these halls.

As you waited, your mind raced with possibilities. Who was this mysterious new owner? What did they want? Your agent had assured you that this was just a formality, but the knot in your stomach suggested otherwise. You found yourself studying the intricate patterns in the marble floor, tracing the veins of gold and silver that snaked through the stone like the plot twists in one of Thrombey's novels.

Just as the clock struck ten, the elevator dinged, and a tall woman with perfectly coiffed short white hair strode out, her heels clicking authoritatively on the polished marble floor. She paused at the receptionist's desk, speaking in hushed tones before turning her piercing gaze towards you.

"I assume you’re my ten o’clock?" she questioned, her voice sharp and commanding.

You suppressed a gasp and abruptly stood, smoothing your clothes nervously as you approached none other than Linda Drysdale - the legendary daughter of Harlan.

"Yes, that's me.”

She gave you a once-over, then nodded. “Come with me.”

You followed Linda into the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. The mirrored walls reflected your nervous expression back at you, and you tried to school your features into something more confident. Linda stood beside you, her posture perfect. In contrast to you, she seemed entirely at ease, tapping away at her phone with manicured nails.

When the doors opened, you stepped out into a hallway lined with dark wood paneling and more framed book covers. Linda's office was at the end, a massive space with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The room was dominated by an imposing desk made of rich mahogany, its surface neat and organized.

"Please, sit," Linda said, gesturing to one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. As you settled in, she moved to a small bar cart in the corner. "Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps some whiskey? A gin and tonic? Coffee? Tea?"

You shook your head, politely declining. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

Linda shrugged, pouring herself a generous measure of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. "Suit yourself," she said, returning to her desk and settling into her high-backed leather chair. She took a sip, savoring the whiskey before fixing you with her piercing gaze once more.

"I've read your manuscript," she began, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk's polished surface. "It's intriguing. You have potential, there's no denying that."

Your heart swelled with pride at her words, but you remained silent, sensing there was more to come.

Linda leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm prepared to offer you a book deal. A three-book contract, to be precise. The advance is generous, and the royalties - well, let's just say they're enough to make even my father's ghost smile."

You felt a surge of excitement, but something in Linda's tone made you hesitate. There was a glint in her eye, a slight curl to her lip that suggested there was more to this offer than met the eye.

"However," she continued, swirling the whiskey in her glass, "there is one small condition."

The word hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "What kind of condition?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Linda smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You see, my father liked to play games. In his will, he left us with one final trick. I don’t know how much of this you heard or followed in the news, but he left us nothing - his cash and assets, our home, and this publishing house all went to Marta Cabrera, his nurse at the time of his death.”

You would have been hard-pressed to have missed the news because it had spilled over into scandal.

“I don’t expect to see the sixty million, and that’s tough, but I can live with that - I’ve made my own fortune, and neither Walt and his family nor my sister-in-law and her daughter need to continue suckling off the teat of dad’s treasury. The house still hurts, but I’ll get it back - I can bide my time. But this? It only took me eighteen months of patience and strategy, working through subsidiaries and intermediaries, to close the deal on getting Blood Like Wine back in the family where it belongs.”

“I will go public with my ownership by the end of the week,” she continued, “but for better and for worse, the acquisition has ended up coinciding with my son’s pending release from prison.”

“Ransom?”

Linda nodded, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before disappearing behind her composed facade. "Yes, Ransom. As you can imagine, his... indiscretions have caused quite a stir in our family and social circles."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure where this was leading.

"My son made mistakes, grievous ones. But he's served enough time, and now he needs a chance to redeem himself. That's where you come in."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand, Mrs. Drysdale. What does this have to do with my book deal?"

"The condition," she explained, her voice taking on a steely edge, "is that you convincingly pose as his sweet-as-a-peach fiancé for two years.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. Ransom Drysdale, the man who had attempted to murder Marta Cabrera and frame her for Harlan's death, and she expected you to agree to this? You stared at Linda in disbelief, and the silence stretched between you, broken only by the soft ticking of an antique clock on the bookshelf behind her.

"I... I don't know what to say," you finally managed, voice a little weak in your shock.

Linda leaned back in her chair, taking another sip of whiskey. "It's quite simple, really. You play the role of Ransom's devoted fiancée, help rehabilitate his image, and in return, you get your book deal. Three books, a substantial advance, and the backing of one of the most prestigious publishing houses in the industry.”

"But... Ransom... he tried to kill someone. He went to prison. How could I possibly-"

"Details," Linda waved her hand dismissively. "The public has a short memory. With the right narrative, we can reshape Ransom's image. A reformed bad boy, humbled by his time in prison, now devoted to his charming fiancée and ready to contribute positively to society. We both know the power of a well-crafted story. People will believe anything."

You felt your head spinning. This was so far beyond what you had expected when you'd nervously entered the building this morning. "And what does Ransom think about this plan?" you asked, grasping for any semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

Linda's lips curved into a tight smile. "Ransom will do as he's told if he wants to maintain his lifestyle and eventually inherit his share of the family fortune. He knows the stakes."

You sat there, stunned. The offer was tempting - a three-book deal with Blood Like Wine Publishing was beyond your wildest dreams. But to fake an engagement with a convicted criminal? It seemed insane.

"I understand your hesitation," Linda said, her voice softening slightly. "But consider this: you'd have unprecedented access to our family. Think of the material for your future novels. The inside scoop on one of America's most infamous families. Isn't that what every mystery writer dreams of?"

You had to admit, she had a point. The Thrombey-Drysdale saga was the stuff of legend in literary circles. To be on the inside, to see how they really lived and interacted? That alone could draw readers in if they thought there was any chance you’d pull threads and weave it into your future novels.

And besides, this was your dream: a multi-book deal with a prestigious publisher, the chance to see your work in print, and to potentially become not only a published author but one who with Blood Like Wine’s name and marketing department could be a truly successful author. How could you pass it all up?

“What would you say to four books?”

You blinked, taken aback by Linda's sudden offer. "Four books?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Linda nodded, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Four books. And we'll double the advance. Consider it... hazard pay." She chuckled softly at her own joke.

Your breath caught in your throat. Four books? The offer was even more tempting now, dangling before you like a golden carrot. You found yourself leaning in, drawn into Linda's web despite your better judgment.

"I... I don't know," you stammered, your mind racing. "This is all so sudden. What exactly would be expected of me?"

Linda's smile widened, sensing your wavering resolve. "Nothing too taxing, I assure you. Attend some charity galas, be seen at upscale restaurants, perhaps a carefully orchestrated paparazzi shot or two. We'll craft a beautiful love story for the press - how Ransom found redemption through your unwavering support and love."

You nodded slowly, uncertainty swirling more strongly, gut churning because you were actually considering this. You could do public appearances…

“A year and a half,” you countered.

Linda shook her head firmly. “No, I won’t budge on the time commitment. Two years is a bankable amount of time to make sure we turn enough pages to fully close this chapter. But I’ll give you six books.”

Your heart leapt at that, and even though your gut was uneasy, your brain was shouting that this kind of deal was something you could not refuse. “Six books, and the first two released before the engagement period is over.”

“Deal,” Linda agreed.

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from the enormity of what you had just agreed to. Six books. A multi-million dollar deal. And all you had to do was pretend to be engaged to a convicted criminal for two years. It seemed surreal, like something out of one of - well not one of Harlan's novels, but whatever romance author was currently trending.

"I think I will have that drink now," you said, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

Linda's smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I find a good whiskey helps smooth over even the most unusual of business deals."

You nodded, watching as she selected a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. The soft clink of glass on glass filled the room as she poured a generous measure into a tumbler. The rich, peaty aroma of the whiskey wafted towards you, promising warmth and liquid courage.

Linda returned, extending the glass to you. Your fingers wrapped around the cool crystal and your eyes met Linda's. There was a moment of silent understanding between you - a recognition of the Faustian bargain you had just crafted and agreed to.

As you raised the glass to your lips, Linda's voice cut through the silence. "One more thing," she said, her tone casual but her gaze intense. "I'll up the advance to five million if you agree to move in with Ransom."

Your GPS led you to the top of a cul-de-sac in the Brown’s Wood neighborhood of Lincoln, Massachusetts. Beautiful trees and a typical New England landscape ushered you up the drive to the midcentury modern home owned by Hugh Ransom Drysdale. It didn’t scream home, but there was no denying it was a stunning feat of architecture - white walls and black roofing framing a structure of mostly floor-to-ceiling windows.

You sat in your car for a moment, gathering your courage. The enormity of what you had agreed to in Linda’s office had been sinking in all week, but this was it. Five million dollars. Six books. And two years of your life pretending to be engaged to - and now living with - a man who had attempted murder.

Maybe approaching all of this as if it was one big plot so of course it had to all work out was a ridiculous coping strategy, but it’s the one you had adopted.

But when the seven-figure advance had appeared in your bank account, giving you more money than you had earned in your entire life, you didn’t have it in you to back out.

If he murdered you, at least you would have paid off your student loans, credit card debts, provided for your parents’ retirement, and put away enough money in a trust for your nephew’s college fund.

The house loomed before you, a monument to wealth and taste that felt utterly alien. With a deep breath, you grabbed your bags from the passenger seat and made your way to the front door.

Before you could even ring the bell, the door swung open, revealing Ransom Drysdale himself.

He was taller than you expected, his presence filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes scanned you from head to toe, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "So, you're the lucky lady my mother's picked out for me," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You bristled at his tone but forced a smile. "And you must be the charming ex-convict I've agreed to shackle myself to," you replied, matching his sarcasm with your own. "Can we consider the awkward introductions done now?"

Ransom's smirk widened into a grin, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, I like you already. Come on in, darling," he said, stepping aside to let you in. "Welcome to Hill House Drysdale. Try not to get too attached - I hear it's only a two-year lease."

You stepped into the house, immediately struck by the minimalist decor and open floor plan. The entire back wall was glass, offering a stunning view of the surrounding woods. It was beautiful, but cold - much like its owner, you mused.

The house was a stark contrast to the warmth of the Thrombey mansion you'd seen in news reports. This place was all clean lines, minimalist furniture, and an abundance of glass and steel.

"Nice place," you commented, setting your bags down. "I half expected to see crime scene tape and chalk outlines."

Ransom's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Sorry to disappoint. I save all my murdering for the family estate. This is my sanctuary."

You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at his dark humor. At least he wasn't trying to pretend this was anything other than what it was - a business arrangement.

"So, where should I put my things?" you asked, gesturing to your bags. Some of your things had been sent off to a storage unit, but the things a moving consultant had determined would come here with you had been packed up and moved earlier in the day.

"The master suite is upstairs," Ransom said, closing the door behind you. "Stay out unless you’re embarking on a conjugal visit.”

You scoffed. “Charming.”

He winked at you, then began to take you through the house. “Other than that, you’re free to roam the house, and I’ll stay out of your space. Living room here,” he gestured around, then walked to the right, and you followed him into a sleek, modern kitchen. “Two Bosch ovens, a six-burner range, your choice of pretty much any appliance in one of these cupboards.”

“You cook?”

It was his turn to scoff. “God, no.”

He walked you through the length of it, coming out on the other end of the living room, and then walking through a dining room with a long black table and another two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Ransom didn’t strike you as one for entertaining dinner parties, making this more of a feature room than anything else.

At the other end, you came to a new wing of the house.

“This is you,” he said simply. “First door office, second is your bedroom and bathroom.”

You hesitated at the transition point from the dining room to the other side of the house.

“What is it?” Ransom asked, turning and putting his hands on his hips impatiently.

“Linda said a contractor would be brought in to install a door and security system.”

“She said could, and you’ve got locks installed, but I own this house, installing a wall and door here is more invasive than I was willing to agree to, and since she’s a real estate mogul she conceded it would altar the property value.”

“I…”

“You can relax. I’m not likely to try to murder you - the memory of the inconvenience of being incarcerated will probably last for twenty-four to thirty-six months, putting you in the clear.”

You frowned.

“They’re nice rooms, state of the art locks, you’ll be fine,” he reiterated, rolling his eyes. “Digital reinforced with an analog component that you’ll have the only keys to.”

He tossed you a keychain with three keys, which you were quick to catch.

“Downstairs there’s another living room that’ll be for you exclusively and a laundry room.”

“So, you’ll be coming through here to do laundry then?” you asked.

“Cute of you to think I do my own laundry.”

Now it was you who had an eye roll to give.

"Speaking of, all your stuff was delivered safe and sound, but I took the liberty of having some clothes delivered for you. Can't have my fiancée looking like a struggling writer when we're out in public."

You bristled at his comment. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Ransom's eyes raked over you, his gaze lingering a bit too long for comfort. "Let's just say they don't exactly scream 'trophy wife of a reformed bad boy billionaire.'"

You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself of the substantial paycheck waiting for you at the end of this charade. "Fine. When is the first public outing?"

Ransom checked his watch, a sleek, expensive-looking timepiece that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. "We have a charity gala tomorrow night. My dear mother thought it would be the perfect opportunity to debut our 'relationship' to society."

Your stomach twisted with anxiety. Tomorrow night? That was so soon. You weren't prepared for this.

“Last thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s your ring.”

Ransom reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. As he opened it, your breath caught in your throat. Nestled inside was a ring that could only be described as breathtaking.

The center stone was a flawless oval-cut diamond, easily 3 carats, that seemed to capture and refract every bit of light in the room. It was held in place by a delicate setting adorned with two smaller diamonds on either side. Each facet of the ring sparkled with an intensity that was almost hypnotic.

"This," Ransom said, his voice uncharacteristically warm, "is a family heirloom. It belonged to my great-grandmother, passed down through the generations. My mother insisted I give it to you."

He carefully removed the ring from its velvet nest and held it out.

You reached for it, holding it delicately and studying it more closely.

“And I am going to insist that you wear it continually,” he added, tone back to its normal bite, “none of this on and off business. We’re engaged and there’s no reason to risk a slip up forgetting to put it on before you leave the house.”

The weight of it in your hand felt significant, both physically and metaphorically. This wasn't just any engagement ring - it was a piece of Thrombey family history.

"It's... stunning," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ransom's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something - pride? nostalgia? - passing across his face. "It is, isn't it?" he said, his sarcastic tone momentarily abandoned again. "My great-grandfather proposed with that ring after returning from the war. It's seen its fair share of family drama."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I bet it has."

Ransom cleared his throat, his mask of indifference sliding back into place. "Well, go on then. Put it on.”

"Are you sure about this?" you asked cautiously. "Shouldn't a family heirloom go to someone real?"

Ransom's expression hardened slightly. "I’m hardly that sentimental. This arrangement is real enough for my mother, and it's real enough for me. Besides," he added with a sardonic smile, "you're as close to family as I'm likely to get these days."

With a deep breath, you slipped it onto your left ring finger. The final symbol of the elaborate charade you had chosen to undertake.

It was near midnight, and you were worn out and nearly ready to collapse into your bed. The movers had done most of the work, but you still had had some unpacking to take care of and moved the furniture around in your bedroom and the room that would be your office. After giving you the engagement ring, Ransom had left you alone the rest of the day.

You padded quietly through the dining room that connected the two halves of the house to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle before bed.

The house was eerily quiet as you made your way through the darkened rooms. Moonlight filtered through the expansive windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. You tried to move silently, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the night or alert Ransom to your presence.

As you entered the kitchen, the cool tile against your bare feet sent a small shiver up your spine. You fumbled for a moment, searching for the light switch, but decided against it. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the soft glow from the windows was enough to navigate by.

You had just placed your water bottle under the refrigerator's filtered, letting the cool water splash into your bottle, when another sound caught your attention.

At first, it was barely perceptible - a faint, rhythmic creaking from upstairs. You froze, straining your ears. The sound grew clearer: a low, guttural groan, followed by the unmistakable sound of skin moving over skin.

Frozen in place, your cheeks flushed hot as realization dawned. Ransom was fisting his cock and unabashedly enjoying it.

Part of you wanted to flee back to your room immediately, but you were paralyzed, afraid any sound of movement might alert him to your presence.

Your breath caught in your throat as Ransom's moans intensified, echoing through the quiet house. The rhythmic creaking of his bed frame quickened, punctuated by deep, guttural groans that sent shivers down your spine. You stood frozen in the kitchen, your water bottle forgotten as you listened, captivated against your will.

Your body betrayed you, responding to the primal sounds drifting down from above. Heat bloomed in your core, your skin tingling with unwanted arousal. You could almost picture him - his muscular body taut with tension, head thrown back in ecstasy, those piercing blue eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Your imagination filled in the details - the flex of his biceps as he stroked himself, the sheen of sweat on his chest, the way his abs would clench with each thrust into his fist.

You pressed your thighs together, trying to quell the ache building between them.

"Fuck," Ransom's voice drifted down, rough with need.

The raw intensity in his voice sent a jolt through you. Your breath quickened, matching the frantic pace of his movements above. You knew you should leave, retreat to the safety of your room, but your feet remained rooted to the spot.

The sounds grew more urgent, building to a crescendo. Ransom's groans became deeper, more primal. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the need for release. Your own body thrummed with sympathetic tension, your nipples hardening beneath your thin sleep shirt.

Suddenly, Ransom let out a long, guttural moan. The sound of it vibrated through you, igniting every nerve ending. You imagined him arching off the bed, his body taut as a bowstring as he found his release.

The house fell silent once more, save for the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Realizing you were still clutching your water bottle, you turned and tip-toed back to your room as quickly as possible.

You slipped quietly back into your room, closing and locking the door behind you with trembling hands. Your heart was still racing, your body flushed with unwanted arousal. You leaned against the door, trying to steady your breathing.

What had just happened? You'd come to get water and ended up an unwitting eavesdropper to your fake fiancé's private moment. The memory of Ransom's deep groans echoed in your mind, sending another shiver through you.

You shook your head, trying to clear the vivid mental images. This was ridiculous. Ransom was arrogant, infuriating, and had literally tried to murder someone. You shouldn't be affected by him like this.

And yet, the memory of his moans lingered, making your skin tingle and your core ache with need.

When you crawled into bed, you brought a book with you instead of your vibrator, refusing to sate the lust that had been kindled because you didn’t want to risk thinking of him. If you couldn’t resist him the first night living under the same roof, there would be no hope for you to make it two years.

And so you read until your eyes drooped and you were finally succumbed to sleep.

HAPPY KNIVES OUT NOVEMBER! It seemed like an appropriate point during the Countdown to Chris-mas to finally buckle down and write my first Ransom fic!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[sparkledfirecracker]

I MISSED THIS REBLOG AT THE TIME AND I AM SO SORRY TO ONLY JUST SEE IT NOW LAU! STUPID DUMBLR.

Thank you for this wonderful commentary reblog. Don’t we all want to be reader. Ransom is always ready for any type of ride.

Fore!Play

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader Rating: Explicit Summary: Another run-in with Ransom on the green Word count: 2,481

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), blowjob, public sex?

A/N: 18+ only. Minors DNI!!! Shoutout to @ghotifishreads for the fic title after a commented reblog on the previous part. Golfing will never be the same again. This is not beta-read, all mistakes are my own. If I missed any of the warnings, feel free to let me know. 

I do not consent to have my works copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been posted without my permission or consent. 

BY CLICKING ON KEEP READING YOU AGREE TO BE 18+ OR OVER!!

Another groan as the seven iron skyrocketed another lump of grass. Much to your annoyance, it hadn’t been the first time today, it had been the millionth time. Remembering the words of your mother, once you get the hang of it, it will be exciting.

Keep reading

[witchywithwhiskey]

how about ransom and “i mean, i got what i wanted, didn’t i?” 👀🫶🏼

can't resist a dare

pairing: best friend!ransom drysdale x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship, taking nude photos/sending nude photos, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, little bit of exhibitionism, come marking, come facial, light bdsm, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names (baby), aftercare, friends to lovers, revenge on a mean/rude ex

word count: 4,300ish

a/n: whoops, this ended up being longer than i anticipated 😬 but i loved the premise i came up with too much to scrap it and try to write something shorter so here we go!! i just loved the idea of best friend!ransom being a petty perv and reader being just as much of a petty perv 🤭 anyway i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

You never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale. 

The devastatingly handsome grandson of Harlan Thrombey had been your best friend since you were children running around his grandfather’s spooky old house while your families spent time together. Even though you were both grown adults, Ransom still knew how to push all your buttons, and he knew that if he dared you to do something, you’d do it. 

Which was how you’d ended up in the cramped bathroom on the first floor of the Thrombey mansion during Harlan’s May Day party, your body bent over at the waist and your arm contorted behind your back to take a photo of the tiny little thong you’d worn beneath your sundress. 

Ransom had dared you to take a photo of your ass and send it to your ex. You, of course, had risen to the challenge and accepted the dare. 

You hadn’t had nearly enough champagne to make you so reckless, but there was something about your oldest friend that brought out your competitive spirit. Ransom was the only one who could get you to do such things, but you enjoyed being pushed outside of your comfort zone. Plus, you knew your best friend wouldn’t make you do anything that would actually hurt you.

In fact, if you were honest with yourself, there was a part of you that was perversely pleased to be taking such an obscene photo of yourself while some of the richest families in Massachusetts milled around just outside the door. The thought of getting caught taking naughty pictures turned you on more than you wanted to admit, so you hurried up and took the photos. 

When you were done, you picked one you liked and sent it to your ex with a smirk on your face, thinking he should be so lucky as to see your ass one last time. 

Leaving the bathroom, you strutted through the party looking for Ransom, feeling smug about completing the dare. You caught his eye when you entered the library, and even across the room, you could see the amusement dancing in his crystal blue eyes. You made your way through the crowd with a pep in your step, but halfway through, your phone vibrated with a response from your ex.

You opened the text and wished you hadn’t.

Didn’t know you were such a desperate slut, but if you really need dick so bad, I guess I’ll let you ride mine, baby. I know you loved bouncing on it like a whore. 

Your expression twisted into a scowl, and you looked up at your best friend, who was suddenly in front of you. Hurt wrapped around your heart, a part of you feeling—perhaps unfairly—that Ransom should’ve known your ex would text something vile back to you. 

“I did your dare, are you happy now?” you hissed at your best friend, taking out all your hurt and anger on Ransom. You knew you were much more angry at yourself, and your ex, for his hurtful response, but your best friend was the safest target at the moment.

Annoyingly, Ransom looked unaffected by your fury, the satisfied smirk on his face never wavering even as you continued to glare at him. When he responded, his voice was a lazy drawl that reminded you he couldn’t have known the effect of his dare.

“I mean, I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a frustrated huff and opened your phone to the text message you’d gotten from your ex, turning the screen to your best friend so he could read it. “Is this what you wanted?” you sneered, knowing full well your best friend wouldn’t react kindly to what your ex had said. 

You were so determined to show Ransom what he’d done, you didn’t even consider the fact that you were also showing him the photo you’d sent. At least, not until his blue eyes went a little hazy and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin.

“The dare didn’t include you showing me the photo,” Ransom drawled, his gaze flicking to yours, the look in his eyes making something hot squirm deep in your core. “But I can’t say I mind—you’ve got a gorgeous ass.” 

Heat rose in your face, and your expression twisted into one of impatient annoyance. “Look at the response, Ran,” you gritted out, trying not to let his compliment get to you. He was your best friend—he was probably just messing with you. But you were soon distracted from what Ransom had said when he finally looked at what your ex had replied.

A storm cloud settled over Ransom’s handsome features, his eyes narrowing into two slits and his mouth twisting into a furious scowl. You even thought you heard a low rumble, like a growl, emanate from your best friend’s chest beneath the din of the party around you. 

“Who does this little shit think he is?” Ransom fumed, grabbing your phone and clicking on the contact info. “Does this motherfucker think he can talk to you like this?” Your best friend’s gaze flicked to yours and something inside you warmed when you saw the righteous anger simmering in his eyes. “And where the fuck does he get off calling you baby?” 

Your mouth opened to answer him, but Ransom just shook his head in a way that quelled you. Instead, he grabbed your hand with his free one and began leading you through the party toward the back of the house. Your feet moved quickly to keep up with his longer strides, and he slowed a little so he didn’t hurt your arm as he tugged you into the backyard. Ransom walked briskly through the gate in the fence that separated the lawn from the forest. 

You knew the forest around the Thrombey mansion just as well as the house itself, with its trees and the occasional statues representing Harlan’s various mystery novels. You and Ransom had played in the forest plenty when you were children, and partied amongst the statues when you were in your teens and early twenties. It was the only place the two of you could have any privacy, and you had to assume that Ransom wanted seclusion to discuss what your ex had said.

At your favorite of the statues in the forest, Ransom pulled to a stop and rounded on you, mischief gleaming in his blue eyes. You could tell he had a plan. 

“Do you wanna show your shithead ex what he’s missing?” 

Ransom’s smile was sharp as a knife and you couldn’t help but be distracted by your best friend’s handsomeness, just for a moment. His slicked-back brown hair gleamed in the spring sunshine that trickled down through the leafy trees above, and his broad shoulders filled out his henley so deliciously, you almost forgot the question he asked. 

But then his words broke through your distracted mind and the grin that spread across your face was practically devilish in your delight. “What do you have in mind?” you asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stared up at your best friend with nothing but trust.

Ransom’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a second before he met yours again. “Get on your knees,” he said, his voice low and gruff in a way you’d never heard before. It made heat pool deep in your core and you squirmed a little but didn’t hesitate to follow the order. 

The forest floor was blanketed in a soft carpet of dying leaves, even as new growth flourished around you, the sweet scent of spring filling your senses as you lowered yourself to your knees. Your eyes remained fixed on Ransom’s as your knees hit the soft ground, and though you knew the two of you were alone in the woods, it truly felt as though you were the only two people in the whole world.

You weren’t naive. You knew whatever your best friend had in mind to get back at your ex would be crossing one or two lines you’d never crossed with him before. But you trusted Ransom. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. And, truthfully, a part of you that you kept hidden and locked away so much of the time wanted to cross a line or two with your best friend. 

So you sat on your knees on the ground at Ransom’s feet and stared up at him with all the trust you had in him no doubt written all over your face. You watched as his eyes softened and his mouth curved at the edges into a gentle smile, his expression filled with affection. It was so different to the hard or smarmy mask he wore in public—and even around his family—that you relaxed even further, knowing he’d take care of you even as you got revenge on your ex.

“Stick your tongue out,” Ransom murmured, his voice low and soft and nearly blending in with the breeze rustling the trees above you. His hand reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek, his smile deepening when you nuzzled into his palm before doing as he said. “Good girl, now look at me like you wanna suck my cock.”

A bolt of heat shot through you, nearly making you shiver as warmth bloomed, feral and unbidden, within your body. Ransom’s command was certainly crossing a line, but it felt like permission, too. For the first time in a very long time, you let the feelings you’d hidden away come rushing to the surface. The force of them surprised you, and you found yourself leaning into the arousal that swirled through your body.

With your tongue already sticking out, you let yourself sink into the desire you felt to suck Ransom’s cock and let it show in the way you were posed. You arched your back to stick out your ass and push up your chest, giving your best friend a good view of your tits in your dress. Letting your eyes go heavy-lidded with arousal, you stared eagerly up at your best friend.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide and his lips parting as he let out a heavy breath. He looked transfixed by you, and if you weren’t sticking your tongue out, you would’ve smirked at his reaction to you.

For a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Ransom shook himself lightly and he held up your phone, swiping it open to the camera. You watched as he angled it the way he wanted, and waited patiently while he took a few pictures of you on your knees in front of him. 

When his eyes returned to your face, you relaxed your pose a little, expecting him to give you your phone so you could pick out a photo to send to your ex. Instead, Ransom gave you a considering look.

“Do you really wanna piss off your ex?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that made butterflies stir in your belly even as more warmth trickled down between your thighs. A slow, evil grin spread across his handsome face that made your stomach flutter and your core clench. “Do you wanna show him what he’s missing?’

“Yes.” Your answer slipped from your lips before you really had a chance to think about it, but once it was out, you wouldn’t take it back. You trusted Ransom, you really wanted to get back at your ex, and, even more than that, you were desperately curious to see how far your best friend would take things. So you doubled down, giving him an evil smile of your own. “Yes, I do.”

Ransom’s grin turned a little smug as he looked at you with mischievous delight dancing in his eyes. The dappled light of the sunny spring day shifted across his face, and you sucked in a silent breath at just how handsome your best friend was. Your heart thumped in your chest, but you pushed the meaning behind that feeling aside and focused on the moment.

“Unzip my pants and pull my cock out,” Ransom murmured, his tone low and rough as gravel, sending a shiver down your spine.

Immediately, your eyes dropped to the front of your best friend’s slacks and you couldn’t help but notice the bulge there. A delighted smile curled the edges of your mouth. Ransom was just as turned on by you as you were by him. That knowledge gave you the courage you needed to do as he said. 

Your fingers fumbled excitedly with Ransom’s clothes as you pushed up his henley and undid the button and fly of his pants. You pushed them and his boxer briefs down over his hips, revealing the long length of his cock. It bounced free from his briefs and you sucked in a sharp gasp. He was so thick and long, your body clenched with the need to be filled just at the sight of your best friend’s cock.

Eagerly, you leaned forward, pressing your face to the underside of Ransom’s cock and inhaling the clean, musky scent of him. He smelled so good, you could feel your body react to your best friend’s cock, your pussy soaking your thong and making a mess of your thighs. Tilting your head back, you turned your heavy-lidded eyes up to Ransom, staring up at him while you nuzzled into his hard length.

“Yeah, just like that,” Ransom rasped, giving you an encouraging nod while his thumb tapped the screen of your phone, taking photos of you. “Look so pretty with my cock on your face, baby.”

A pleased smile curved your lips and your eyes closed as you savored the wonderful feeling of Ransom’s praise. It made your body warm even further, and you conveyed how happy it made you by pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Ransom’s cock. He rumbled an appreciative sound and when you looked up at him again, his eyes were the darkest you’d ever seen, his entire attention focused entirely on you.

You liked having Ransom’s attention and you didn’t wait for him to give you more instructions. Trailing your lips up the length of his cock, you pressed wet, suckling kisses to the velvety soft skin wrapped around the hardness beneath. You didn’t know which of you enjoyed it more—Ransom, with his face twisted into a look of pleasure and his chest heaving, or you, with your pussy dripping between your thighs. 

It seemed to take Ransom a moment to remember what he was supposed to be doing, that the point of you being on your knees was to record what you were doing to get back at your ex. He tapped the screen of your phone once, and when he spoke, there was something in his voice that made you think he was recording a video—a tenor of encouragement that made you want to perform.

“How d’you like my cock, baby?” he asked, a smirk clear on his face and in his tone. “Am I bigger than your ex?”

You wanted to grin and laugh—Ransom’s cock was much bigger than your ex’s. Instead, you curved your lips into your most vixenish smile and nuzzled into your best friend’s hardness like it was your most cherished stuffed animal. 

“I looove your cock, Ran,” you purred in a sultry voice, not having to try hard to show your appreciation for him. You pressed a kiss to his hard length and licked the underside of the head, wringing a grunt from your best friend. “You have such a big cock, daddy, way bigger than my ex—I don’t know how I’m gonna fit you in my tight little throat.” You batted your lashes up at the camera while you swirled your tongue around the tip, licking up your best friend’s precum. 

Ransom tapped your phone and moved it out of the way so he could look straight at you, raising one of his eyebrows in amusement. “‘Daddy’?” he asked, a delighted smirk curving his lips.

You stroked Ransom’s cock while you pulled back to answer. “My ex always wanted me to call him that, but it never felt right,” you said, making a face before you leaned forward again, wrapping your lips around the tip of your best friend’s cock and sucking on him lightly. Ransom grunted in pleasure.

“Keep going, baby, we’ll show that shithead what he’s never gonna have,” Ransom rasped, lifting your phone up again and tapping the screen while you took his cock deeper into your mouth. “Suck daddy’s cock, baby, be a good girl and show me how much you love my dick.”

You wanted to smile at Ransom’s filthy words, but instead you focused your attention entirely on his cock, bobbing your head on his hard length until the tip of him was pressing against the back of your throat. You’d never taken anyone as big as him, but you were determined to deep throat your best friend, so you relaxed your throat and pushed yourself. After a few tries, you took him all the way in, until his cock was bulging in your throat and your nose was pressed flat to his stomach.

“Oh fuck, jesus christ, baby,” Ransom shouted when you swallowed around him, your throat squeezing his hardness as you fought to keep him buried to the root in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face, and drool trickled down your chin, but you paid it no mind, focusing entirely on your best friend’s cock.

His big hand settled on the crown of your head, fingers flexing like he wanted to grab you and hold you down on his cock. Your pussy clenched at the thought, but Ransom seemed not to want to hurt you, so he simply bucked his hips a little, fucking your throat in short thrusts. 

“Shit, ‘m gonna come,” he rasped, his voice rough and strained in a way you’d never heard before. It made you squeeze your thighs together as more wetness flooded your already messy slit. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, holy fuck, your throat feels so fucking good, oh fuck.”

When his cock started to twitch, you pulled off and smiled sweetly up at your best friend. “Come on my face, Ran,” you panted, your voice breathy as you stared directly into Ransom’s darkened eyes. 

It took you a moment to realize Ransom’s hand holding your phone had dropped to his side, and the entirety of his focus was on you—just you. A pleased smile curled your lips while you pumped your best friend’s cock in your fist, squeezing the tip while he tossed his head back and let out a loud, pleasured groan.

Ransom came, muttering, “Baby, baby, baby,” under his breath, ropes of his come landing all over your face, joining the tears, spit and drool already coating your cheeks and chin. You opened your mouth, catching some of his spend on your tongue and humming happily at the musky taste of him. 

When Ransom tipped his head back up and opened his eyes to look at you, his mouth fell open in a helpless moan when he took in the state of you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes roving over your face hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough of seeing you with his come on your cheeks. “You look so pretty covered in my come, baby,” he murmured, warmth and affection in his tone as he stroked your jaw, one of the few places on your face that wasn’t messy.

You grinned up at your best friend, pleased at his praise, though that didn’t stop you from teasing him. “Why don’t you take a picture, daddy, it’ll last longer,” you sassed. But once the words were out, you realized how serious you were about the suggestion. When Ransom raised his eyebrows in question, you whispered, “Use your phone—if you want.”

Ransom didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants and angled it above your face. “Smile for me, baby,” he murmured softly, and you couldn’t help but follow the gentle command. He took a few photos of you, sitting on your knees in the forest, covered in his come. 

Once he was done, he stowed both your phones in his pocket and pulled his henley off over his head, leaving him in a simple white t-shirt. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he started using the soft cotton garment to clean your face. He was gentle, wiping the come from your face and then clearing away your ruined makeup. 

Somehow, it felt so much more intimate than sucking your best friend’s cock and all you could do was sit there, your heart pounding in your chest while you let Ransom take care of you. His gaze caught yours, and you saw his crystal blue eyes were swirling with just as much emotion as was filling your heart, and something seemed to pass between the two of you—an understanding that something had changed between you.

When he’d cleaned your face to the best of his ability, Ransom tucked his cock away then helped you to stand, supporting your weight while he brushed the dirt and leaves off your knees. You leaned heavily against his chest when he stood up, his arms looping easily around you and you shared another silent moment, both of you smiling and staring into each other’s eyes.

It was you who ended up breaking the moment, asking the question that was making you burn with curiosity. “Are we really going to send those pictures and videos to my ex?” you asked, watching your best friend’s face for his reaction. Truth be told, you still wanted to get back at your ex for what he’d said, but since Ransom’s cock was in them, he had a right to a say in it.

He seemed to be watching you just as carefully as you were watching him. “Do you want to?” he asked, his voice toneless. He was leaving it up to you.

An evil smile spread across your face, Ransom’s lips curving into a smirk in response. “Yeah,” you said brashly. “Let him see what he could’ve had.”

“Just as long as you tell him who’s dick you’re sucking,” Ransom murmured, kissing your temple and pulling your phone from his pocket to hand to you. “I want him to know you’re my girl now.”

At those possessive words, you looked up at your best friend in surprise, but Ransom only gave you a look like you should know better.

Ducking your head, you hid an exceptionally pleased smile as you turned in Ransom’s arms and leaned back against his broad chest so he could watch over your shoulder. Together, you picked out the best photos and videos to send to your ex.

Sorry! Sent that to the wrong person. These are just for you. Oh and Ransom says hi. 

You couldn’t help but giggle when your ex immediately started blowing up your phone, taking great pleasure in blocking him. When you were done, you handed your phone back to Ransom to hold for you, since your dress didn’t have pockets, and you turned in his arms again. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at your best friend with a smile.

“So I’m your girl now, huh?” you asked, unable to let him get away with just a look for confirmation.

Ransom’s strong arms wound around your waist, holding you tight to his chest. “As if I’d be such a fool as to let anyone else have you,” he said, snorting to himself. “I’m not as stupid as your ex.”

“Clearly,” you said dryly, laughing at the unamused look he shot you. 

But then Ransom silenced your laughter with a kiss, his mouth slanting to yours perfectly. All at once, you let the emotions you’d bottled up for so long flow free, and you clung to Ransom as you both deepened the kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth like he was staking a claim, and you answered him back with just as much fervor. 

It was less a first kiss and more a devouring of souls as the two of you made out in the woods of the Thrombey estate.

Finally, Ransom pulled away with a groan. “OK, here’s the plan,” he said with a huff, pressing his forehead to yours. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath, but he soldiered on. “We go back, tell everyone you have a headache and I’m gonna drive you home,” he said, pausing briefly to kiss you. “Then I take you back to my place and we don’t leave my bed for two days—maybe three.”

Laughing and nodding you pushed up on your tiptoes and kissed Ransom again. “Three, definitely three,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing you again.

 Before he pulled away entirely, though, Ransom caught your eye and you knew from the mischief sparkling in the depths of his gaze that he had another dare for you. You grinned eagerly. 

“I dare you to take off your thong and go back to the party with your needy little cunt dripping down your thighs for me,” Ransom rumbled, his voice deliciously low and deep and making you want to jump him right there in the woods.

When Ransom raised an eyebrow in a challenging look, your pussy clenched at the filthy dare, your whole body warming as arousal flooded through you again. You didn’t know what expression your face was making, but it made Ransom grin and press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“If you’re a good girl, daddy will give you a reward when we get to my place,” he murmured. 

But Ransom hadn’t needed to offer you an incentive.

After all, you never could resist a dare from Ransom Drysdale.

[georgiapeach30513]

I’m Not Supposed to Play with Boys

Summary:  Ransom always gets what he wants.  Even if he has to wait.

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, (step) dad’s best friend, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, age gap, dirty talk, D/s dynamics, degradation, teasing, edging, female masturbation/humping, fingering, finger in mouth, humiliation, body writing, oral sex (M receiving), daddy kink, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.6K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Your dad looks at the rear view mirror.  Watching your face as the car looms ever closer to the Thrombey estate.  You try to remain neutral in your thoughts as more and more of the animal statues come into view.  Counting each one because the closer they were, the closer you got to the mansion.  And you hope that the person you had been longing to see was there.  

Your dad sighs, and you look at the reflection of his cobalt eyes, “Ransom is going to be here today, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“You’re not my real dad, and I’m not a child.”

“You are visiting from college, and this is my friend’s family home,” his voice gets a bit more of an edge to it, and you roll your eyes.  He was so predictable.  Expected perfection from you.  Because you reflected on him.

“Honey, just listen to your dad,” your mom yawns, pushing her seat back, and closing her eyes.  There wasn’t even that much further to go, and she was already sleepy from who knows what.  Your step-father rolls his eyes as the creepy estate comes into view, but that pretty little Beemer was nowhere insight.  

“Do you think Linda would mind me taking a nap?” Your mom pets on his arm, and you feel like getting sick.  She was more of a friend than a mother.  She had you when she couldn’t even legally drive.  It was like the two of you had grown up together.  And sometimes you wondered if she was still trying to sew her wild oats.

He slowly removes his foot from the accelerator, throwing the car into park, “I’m going to see if they need any help in the kitchen,” you jump out before he could say anything.  He was going to wait outside with the family, while your mother took her ‘nap’.  You were going to wait where you could hopefully see that Beemer drive up.  They didn’t need help in the kitchen.  Everything was already outside.  But you did exactly what Ransom had asked you to.  And now you wait.

——

Ransom spots his best friend’s car, and gets a big grin on his face.  He was told that you were home from Harvard.  He doesn’t waste time saying his hellos, he needs a snack.  From the kitchen.  Into the house he walks, and straight into the kitchen.  He must have been quieter than he had thought.  You hadn’t noticed him.

Your back is to him, and he notices slow little movements forward.  Right at the table.  A soft little whimper is music to his ears.  He opens up a cabinet for a packet of cookies, and you push off the table, “What cha doing?” He looks all the way down your body before meeting your stare with an arrogant grin.

“N-n-nothing,” you answer quickly.  Smoothing down your dress as you look at anything that wasn’t him.  You have never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Looked like you were humping the edge of the table.  Where you fucking my grandpa’s table?” You shake your head no, starting to retreat out of the kitchen.  “Wait.  I’m not finished talking to you.  If I happen to lift that little skirt of yours am I going to see that pretty pussy wet?”

“Um…no,” why was him embarrassing you like that making you more heated?  Why was there a fresh gush of your juices to your core at the sound of his voice?

“Be a good girl, and lift up your skirt.  Come on, I wanna see.  Just wanna know if you’re still a desperate little slut for me,” slowly you lift up your skirt, and indeed the cotton gusset of your panties are darkened with your slick.  “You were saying?” He chuckles, looking back up at you.

“I’m sorry, Ransom.  I…”

“Oh, sweet little princess, what made you so weak in the knees?  What’s got you all needy and grinding on that old table?”

Your eyes drift down to the floor, and your cheeks heat up in flames.  He was going to make you say it, and you couldn’t.  You mustn’t.  “You know who.”

“Yeah, but that crush was a couple of years ago.  You can’t still have a thing for little ole me, right?”

“I — I had sex like you asked.  I’ve got experience now,” your voice is desperate when you try to tell Ransom that you followed his rules for you when you graduated.  You followed his instructions perfectly.  Listened to every word.  “I…”

“And you’re still a needy fucking thing.  What is that you want?  You want to suck my fat cock?”

“Yes!  Please!” Ransom’s mouth turns up into a devilish smirk.  Lifting his hand up, he curls his finger, beckoning you to him.  

You get almost to him, but he backs away, “No, no.  Show me what you were doing just a minute ago.  But hold your skirt up.  I wanna watch.  Show me how you get off when you think of me,” you gulp deeply as you walk back to the edge of the table.  Lifting up your skirt when you settle yourself on the mahogany.  Your lips spread over the wood, and it touches right on your clit, and you start grinding on it.

“There ya go.  I bet that feels good on your desperate little cunt, hmm?  You thinking of my cock splitting you open?”

“Yeah,” whining as you grind down even harder.

“Fucking you so hard that your head is pounding on headboard.”

“Yeah.  Yes!”

“Have you screaming out ‘Fuck me harder, daddy,” your hips race your forward.  Getting so close that you're panting out his name.  Getting just right to edge, when Ransom places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you off the table, “I didn’t say you could come, you greedy little slut.  Now let’s see how wet you are,” he shoves his fingers into your panties, and you moan when he gathers up your slick.

Holding out his hand, he stretches his fingers out, letting you see just how sticky and wet the mess in your panties is.  Smiling at his fingers before he presses them past your lips, “Be a good girl, and clean me off,” closing your mouth around his fingers, you suck yourself off him.  Circling your tongue around his thick digits.  Almost creaming your panties when you hear him moan.

“Now, let's go say hey to your dad.  I’m sure a good handshake covered in your juices is just what he needs.  Stay wet and messy,” he walks out, leaving you alone and uncomfortable with how wet you are.  Nothing left to do but follow him outside.  

——

Ransom smirks at you from across the lawn.  He has been having a steady conversation with your dad, but his eyes are always on you.  He knows how uncomfortably soaked you are, and he finds it hilarious.  It is a game to him to lick his lips, and readjust himself.  Waiting until you were swishing your thighs together when you see his thick girthy cock in his palm.  It was unfair.

Grunting, you stomp back inside.  Needing to get something to drink.  Who knew, maybe even taking a cold shower.  Anything had to be better than what Ransom was doing to you.  And the worst part was he knew!  He knew that he was driving you crazy.

“Did I make you mad, Princess?”

“You’re making me crazy!  I’m soaked, and I’m horny, and you knew.  You knew what you were doing when…”

“You don’t like me teasing you?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head no.  Ransom looks you up and down as he steadily walks closer to you.  Getting right in front of you when he leans to your ear.  Sniffing up the side of your neck.  His breath on you went straight to your core as more slick floods your underwear, “Get on your knees.”

“What?” What was his game?  What did he want from you?

“Get on your knees, and suck my cock, Princess.  It’s hard and waiting on your filthy little mouth.  Get on your knees now,” turning around, you can see the party going on outside.  He wasn’t serious.  The window was right there.  Your dad was right there.  With a view straight inside to you and Ransom.  

“You want my cock?  Well, here it is,” you look down between the two of you and his pretty cock is the only thing separating you.  Beads of precum at the tip making it look all glistening and pretty, and you crave to taste it.  

His thumb rubs over his slit, smearing his leaking juices over his thumb, and he paints the liquid on your lips, “Suck.  My.  Cock,” slowly you sink to your knees, kissing up his protruding vein, “As much as I would like for you to take your time, we do have an audience out there.  You wouldn’t want daddy to see me fucking your pretty little face, would you?”

“Uh-uh,” you whine as he pushes his length into your mouth.  You hollow out your cheeks, and grip the back of his thighs.  Rolling your eyes up to look at him.  His hand pets over your neck a moment before he starts thrusting into you.  You let him take control.  Allowing him to use your mouth as his personal fuck toy.

He holds tightly to your head as he fucks into you.  His eyes moving from your pretty face, stuffed with him, and then out to the guests outside, “Have you seen my daughter?” Your dad yells.  You try to scurry away, but Ransom holds you tighter.  His pelvis propelling into you more.

“No.  I think she had an upset stomach.  Maybe she’s been stuffing her mouth full,” Ransom snorts.  Casually talking to your dad while he drives into you.  He glances back down to you.  Your weight had settled on one of his feet, and while he was fucking your face, you were grinding on his foot like a bitch in heat.

“You think daddy can hear you gagging?  You think he knows that you're drooling for my cock?” You whimper, holding onto him tighter.  Undulating your hips, and soaking his foot with your arousal.  You are dripping wet.  Needy and ready to come.  Sputtering around his member, your drool leaks down your neck.  “You filthy little slut couldn’t wait for me to fuck one of her holes, could she?  You gonna be my little slut?  You gonna call me daddy instead?”

“Mhmm,” he pulls himself out of your mouth, and you gasp for air.  Your lungs sting as oxygen rushes to fill them up.  His cock slaps across your face, and you don't understand.

“Say it.  Call me daddy.  Tell me how bad you want my cock.  Even though I feel that sloppy cunt throbbing on my foot.  I need to hear you say it.”

“Daddy, I want you to fuck my face.  Need you to come in my throat?” Grabbing your head, he crams himself back into your mouth.  Stabbing into you so fast.  So deep he was making your throat bulge out.  And your body hunger for more air.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you.  Almost there.  Gotta hurry.  Can’t let anyone see you being my pretty little slut.  Taking this big fat cock like a good girl.  Uh!  Uh!  Oh!” His head tilts back, and his load shoots into the back of your throat.  You moan at the salty musk that is Ransom.  Your hips fuck down on him harder.  Getting right there…

“I still didn’t tell you to come,” he meanly states, pushing you off him.

“Ransom!  That’s not fair!  I want to come, too.”

“What did you call me?”

“Daddy!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” his voice is so patronizing as he lifts your skirt, “Spread your legs.  Let daddy see what a pitiful little pussy this is,” you do as you're told, and he moves your panties aside.  Staring at your pulsing cunt with a smile.  “Pitiful,” he lets a drip of his spit drop onto your pussy, and you moan at the cool sensation.  

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s shadow falls into the kitchen, and over Ransom’s back, and you slap your hands over your skirt, covering yourself up.

“Oh, she fell,” Ransom says quickly.  Nodding to your dad as Ransom offers his hand down to him.  “I think maybe she should lay down somewhere.  She was acting a bit delirious.”

Your dad looks between the two of you, clearly not believing a word that either of you had said, “You’ll miss the fireworks.”

“I’ve seen fireworks before.  Ransom is right, dad, I just don’t feel right.  Must be all the excitement today.”

“Go upstairs, third door on the left.  There’s a window that you’ll be able to see all the fireworks,” you give him a nod as you walk up the stairs slowly.  “Is everything okay?” Ransom asks with a smirk.  He caught him spitting into your cunt.  He knows his friend saw you all spread out for him.

“She fell, huh?” He asks.  His eyes darkening as he walks closer.  Looking down at the floor to see a wet spot.  You were messy.

“Yep,” Ransom answers, popping his p.  He holds his hands out shrugging, “I don’t know what to tell you.  Your daughter is clumsy.  She tends to make a mess, too.  Did you know she was a messy little thing?”

“She’s not my real daughter,” he had to add that little bit of information.  Had to let Ransom know when he was looking at you, it was okay.

“Yeah, but you did really marry her mom.  Maybe you should go outside, daddy-o.  Isn’t your wife finally awake?” He shakes his head no, starting to walk back out.  Flinging his head towards the door.  Wanting Ransom to follow.  He had no such plans.  He was going to fuck you during these fireworks.  “Are you that lonely that you need me with you?”

“Are you?” His eyebrow cocks up, “Do you need me with you?”

“Touché.  Listen, I don’t want to be crass, but…”

“She fell, huh?  Is she going to fall again?”

“Yep.  Fall right on my dick.”

——

“You ready to come, Princess?  I got the perfect seat for you to enjoy your fireworks.  Look at this seat daddy prepared for you,” Ransom fists his cock a few times as you walk closer to him.  “There ya go.  You gonna show daddy what you learned in school?  I’m sure Harvard is all boring, but what did those boys teach you in your dorm?”

“I want you to fuck me, though,” tonight was all about you doing all the work.  You wanted nothing more than for Ransom to take advantage of you.  Didn’t care if everyone could hear you screaming.  You wanted him.

“Oh, Princess, this first time I want you to show daddy what those silly college boys taught you.  Sit on my lap.  Let daddy stretch you out,” taking a deep breath, you walk over to Ransom.  Straddling his legs, you grab the base of his cock, and run it through your slit.  

Looking into Ransom’s eyes, you slowly sink down over him, biting at your lip.  None of the boys from school felt like him.  None of them looked like him.  And when you sink balls deep on him, you know that none of them have ever been that deep.  Couldn’t even wish to reach the depths that Ransom did, “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy has such a big cock.  You just sit like that until your pussy doesn’t hurt anymore.  I got her all stretched out, huh?” You nod your head as you bite your lip.  Overwhelmed because you finally feel Ransom.  Finally have him inside of you.  Something you have dreamed about for years.  “You feel me in your belly, honey?”

“Yeah.  But it feels good.”

“Yeah it does.  You gonna let me cum in this tight little pussy?  You are so pretty when you’re a mess,” you slowly start to grind over Ransom.  Getting a better feel of him before you start to bounce on top of him.  Letting your pussy suck him right back in as deep as you could take him.  “Your titties do look pretty bouncing in my face.”

Fireworks boom outside the window, but you only see Ransom.  His mouth chases your tits, just so he can give your buds a nibble.  “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy wouldn’t let you come earlier today, because it makes you that much more needy.  It hasn’t been that long, and I feel your pussy fluttering around me.  My god, I don’t even think I can last.”

BOOM, “Daddy!”

“Tell me what you need, Princess.  Let daddy give it to you.”

BOOM!  POP!  “Daddy!”

“You keep getting louder.  They can’t hear you.  Tell daddy what you want.”

“Daddy!  I wanna come!  Daddy, let me come!”

“Your daddy will make sure you come,” Andy steps up behind you, those thick arms wrapping around your stomach.  One hand spreads your lips further apart, while the other starts making tight circles over your clit.  “Does my sweet girl wanna come?”

“Yes!  Daddy, I wanna come!”

“Woah, woah.  I’m daddy, and this is my princess,” Ransom pouts up at his best friend.  He knew letting Andy watch was a bad idea.  Sick bastard.

“Daddy is gonna help you come,” Andy moans, while you continue to ride Ransom, Andy has got you feeling like you're flying.  Overstimulated, and then he starts to kiss along your neck, while Ransom starts sucking on your tit.  His other hand rolls your nipples between his fingers.  Everything felt good.  Every part of you feels so fucking good.  Your skin is buzzing with euphoria.  “Go on, Princess.  Come.  Daddy’s gonna let you come.”

“Daddy!” You scream as your leg starts trembling.  “Daddy!  Daddy I’m coming!  I’m coming!”  

“Fuck, Andy, she’s got me in a vice grip.  Squeezing me so fucking hard.  There, baby.  Keep riding daddy, yeah!  Fuck yeah!” You moan as Ransom spurts creamy ribbons of his thick cum deep into your core.  Your walls pulse around him, milking every bit of his spend out on him.  “Fuck me!”

“I believe she just did.  Princess, you okay?” You get a dopey smile on your face, whispering yes.  “That was incredible.  How long have you two been fucking?”

“Just this once, Andy.  Now, I let you play with your daughter a bit, but why don’t you let me clean her up.  You’re married.  Don’t need to be fucking your daughter anyways.”

“Quit calling her my daughter!  She’s not my real daughter,” your eyes start to slowly close as you let your high wash over you.  You had him.  He was still in you.  He had filled you up, and it feels so fucking good.

“You’re just saying that because you want to fuck her.  You,” both men stop when you get up, and lay on the bed on your back.  “Princess, why don’t you spread your legs,” your eyes fully close, and you spread your legs.  Putting your gaping cunt on display for both men.  

They stare at your pretty and stretched out channel, and when Ransom's cum starts to leak out, they both gasp.  “My god if that isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s on birth control.  Her mom was scared she was sleeping around too much in college.  Let me guess, that was your doing?”

“Yeah, I don’t do virgins.  They get attached too easily.  Plus, I had her riding daddy’s cock like her life depended on it.  Could you see how deep she took me from your angle?”

“Yes,” Andy rolls his eyes.  “Saw you destroying her pussy.”

“Just wait until I fuck her.  Mmm, my cock is getting hard again.  If you don’t want to see me fuck your daughter in her sleep, I suggest you leave now.  Because I’m going to fuck that slut right into the mattress.  It’s too soon to share her.  You were supposed to just watch.”

Andy Barber never just watches.  He would fuck you too.  He’d make Ransom watch as he pounds into you.  Instead of going to you, Ransom grabs up a pen, “What are you doing?”

“Reminding her,” he says, scribbling ‘obedient’ on one inner thigh.  ‘Good girl’ written on the other.  “Princess, who owns your pussy?”

“You do, daddy.  That’s daddy’s pussy,” Ransom looks back at his friend with a smile.  “It’s all daddy’s.  Whenever daddy wants it.”

“Daddy’s cumdump?”

“Uh huh,” you smile as he writes cumdump on your belly.

“Daddy's pretty little cum princess.”

“Yep,” Andy stomps out of the room, making sure to slam the door.  And you pout up at Ransom.

“He’s just jealous that I’m going to pump you so full of cum, you won’t know what to do with yourself.  My pretty little princess cumslut.”

“Just daddy’s.”

“Unless daddy wants to share?”

“Unless daddy wants to share,” oh Ransom is going to have too much fun with you.  His personal little sex toy.  One he was going to have a lot of fun playing with.  And showing off.  His little fuckdoll that wanted him to do whatever he wanted.  And he would.  “Daddy, I’m sleepy.”

“You want daddy to hold you while you take a nap?” Nodding your head, you make grabby hands up at Ransom, and he crawls into the bed beside you.  “Okay, get some sleep, Princess.  You gotta be rested, so I can fuck you, right?”

“Right.  Shh.”

“I know.  Sleep.  Dream.  And I’ll be right here.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @maroonsunrise83​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request a Ransom x fem!reader where she is Harlan’s assistant, so she’s around the house, therefore, Ransom, a lot. As we all know, Ransom is (understandably) not a big fan of his family, but at the same time he is absolutely head over heels for his grandpa’s assistant so he’ll gladly suffer through his family if it means he gets to see her🤭 Anyways, he’s all flirty (of course) and sweet with her and THOROUGHLY enjoys making her all flustered and shy (she has feelings for him too). And I don’t know why, but I can see Harland pushing them closer together, like he sends Y/n on an errand to Ransom’s house and they happen to get snowed in and get to spend one in one time together and their feelings come out 🤭

Pushed Together » Ransom Drysdale

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Summary: You’re Harlan’s assistant and he pushes you and Ransom closer together and you two get snowed in at his house one night and feelings come out.

Warnings: Fluff, language, flirting, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

“Mr. Thrombey, I find that paper you were looking for.” You walked in Harlan’s office. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You apologized when you seen his grandson Ransom in his office.

“You’re not interrupting, Y/N. You remember my grandson Ransom, right?” Harlan says, gesturing a hand toward Ransom.

“Yes, I do.” You nodded. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Drysdale.” You greeted Ransom with a smile.

“Call me Ransom, sweetheart.” Ransom winks at you, grabbing his jacket. “We’re not finished here.” He says before leaving.

You put the paper Harlan was looking for on his desk in front of him.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Thrombey?” You asked politely.

“I’m good for now. Thank you, Y/N. You can take a break if you like.” He says.

You nodded before leaving his office to take your break. You went to the kitchen for something to drink and sat down at the dining room table, getting on your phone.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for something for my grandfather?” Ransom asks, walking in the dining room.

“He said I can take a break.” You told him.

“I didn’t know my grandfather believed in taking breaks.” He chuckles before going in the kitchen.

You continued to scroll through your phone while Ransom rummaged through the kitchen for his cookies. He came back a few minutes later and sat down at the table next to you.

“Want a cookie?” Ransom asks, handing you the cookies.

“Sure.” You answered.

You reached in the bag of cookies and got a couple. Harlan walked in the dining room at the same time, stopping in the doorway and leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He smiles to himself, seeing you and his grandson interacting. His smile widened when he got an idea.

“I see that you two are having a good time.” Harlan says.

You and Ransom looked over at Harlan.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll leave you two to it.” He says before leaving the dining room.

“I uhh-” You stuttered.

Ransom chuckles and leans back in the chair, eating the cookies.

“You look nervous to be alone with me, darling.” Ransom smirks.

“I’m- I’m not nervous.” You say nervously.

“Then why do you sound nervous?” He asks.

“I-” The words died on your tongue.

Ransom chuckles. He knows how to make you shy and flustered. He does it often.

“Hugh, leave Y/N alone.” Ransom’s mom said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ransom rolled his eyes at his mom before standing up and leaving the room.

“Mother.” He says, walking past her.

His mom sighs as he walks away. You stood up too, not wanting to make anything awkward.

“I should be getting back to work.” You say.

As the day went on, Harlan came up with an idea to push you and Ransom together.

“Is there anything else you need me to do before I go home, sir?” You asked Harlan.

“No, I’m good. Have a great rest of your night and see you tomorrow.” Harlan says.

“You too, Harlan.” You smiled.

You grabbed your things and walked out to your car. Ransom happened to be waiting outside, leaning against his car when you walked out of the house.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Ransom speaks up, accidentally startling you.

“Oh umm- yes, it is.” You say nervously.

Ransom pushes himself off of his car and walked towards you. You walked backwards till your back hit your car. Ransom was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body. Your heartbeat quickened and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This- This is wrong.” You almost whispered. “I work for your grandfather.” You say.

“I don’t care.” He says.

You got even more flustered when Ransom put a hand on your car next to your shoulder. You glanced at his hand before looking back at him.

“I should get going.” You said.

Ransom gently moved you to the side so he could open the car door like a gentleman.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says.

“You too.” You say, getting in your car.

Ransom shut the car for you. You started your car and drove off. Ransom smirks to himself as he walks to his own car, getting in it and leaving. Little did the two of you know that Harlan was looking out of the window of his office, watching the little interaction between the two of you.

The next day, Harlan decided to put his idea in motion. He had you go to the living room to give Ransom his cookies and to make sure he was staying out of trouble. You walked in the room at the same time when everyone was arguing about something. You don’t know what they’re arguing about, probably a family problem or something like that. Ransom didn’t insert himself in the argument with his family. He was sitting in a chair and playing with chess pieces on the small table next to him as his family argued amongst themselves. The only reason why he’s even there is to see you. You brighten up his day any chance he gets to see you.

“Well, isn’t it my grandfather’s cute assistant.” Ransom turned his attention to you. “And she brought me my favorite cookies.” He says.

“Hugh, stop flirting with your grandfather’s assistant.” His mom warns. “Is there something you need, Y/N?” She asks you.

“No, ma’am. Harlan told me to give these cookies to Ransom.” You answered. “I’ll be getting back to work now.” You say.

You glanced at Ransom, feeling blush creeping up on your cheeks when he gave you a wink. You walked out of the room, going back to Harlan’s office. Harlan walked in his office after you.

“Did Ransom get his cookies?” Harlan asks.

“Yes he did, sir.” You answered.

“Excellent.” He smiles.

Harlan sat down at his desk and you sat in a chair in front of his desk, getting back to work. A moment later, Ransom walks in the office and took a seat in the chair next to you. You looked up from the piece of paper you were reading to see Ransom looking at you with a flirtatious expression on his face.

“Is there something I can do for you, Ransom?” You asked, trying your hardest not to sound nervous, shy, or flustered in front of your boss.

“Nope.” Ransom answers, eating a cookie. “You’re pretty and fun to look at.” He says.

“O-Oh.” You stuttered.

You felt yourself blushing uncontrollably at this point. You already know Harlan noticed the blush on your cheeks without having to look up.

“You know, I will say this.” Ransom begins as he stood up. “You hired an amazing woman as your assistant, grandad.” He says to Harlan before walking out of the office.

“I did, didn’t I?” Harlan agrees, giving you a smile.

As the day went on, Harlan continued to give you little tasks to get you and Ransom closer to each other. You didn’t question it and neither did Ransom.

“Is there anything else you need me to do before I go home, Harlan?” You asked, putting your jacket on.

“There is one thing.” Harlan leans forward and wrote something down on a small piece of paper. “There is something at Ransom’s house I would like you to get and bring it to me tomorrow. Here’s his address.” He says, handing you the directions to Ransom’s house.

“Will do, sir. Have a great rest of your evening.” You say with a smile.

“You too, Y/N.” He smiles back, leaning back in his chair.

You got in your car and started it. You typed Ransom’s address into the GPS on your phone before leaving Harlan’s driveway. The drive to Ransom’s house wasn’t as far as you expected it to be. Due to the snow on the roads and coming down from the sky, you drove carefully and cautiously. When you got to Ransom’s house, you rang the doorbell and wrapped your arms around yourself tightly to keep yourself warm.

“Well, if it isn’t my grandad’s beautiful assistant.” Ransom flirts. “Come inside.” He says, his voice sounding welcoming.

You smiled and walked inside. You looked around from where you were standing, taking in the sight of Ransom’s house.

“Not that I’m complaining, but how do you know where I live?” He asks.

“Your grandfather gave me your address and told me that there’s something here for me to get.” You explained.

Ransom chuckles and shook his head. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” You asked.

“There’s nothing of my grandfather’s here.” He says.

“Oh ok. I’ll just-” Yours and Ransom’s phones went off.

You guys looked at your phones, seeing a weather alert, saying to stay off the roads until the morning. You looked out the window, seeing that you were snowed in with Ransom.

“Looks like you’re stuck here with me.” Ransom say.

“Looks like it.” You said.

“I’ll make you some tea so you can warm up.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You shivered when Ransom touched you. Ransom took it as a sign that you’re cold, but he also knows it’s you acting shy and flustered towards him.

“You have a lovely home.” You complimented.

“Thank you, darling.” Ransom smiles, handing you a cup of tea. “I’d give you a house tour, but you need to warm up first.” He says.

Ransom put his hand on your lower back, gently ushering you towards the living room. You took your jacket and shoes off before taking a seat on the couch next to Ransom. Ransom, being the gentleman he is, draped a blanket over your lap. You smiled and thanked him.

“You do know why my grandfather sent you over here, right?” Ransom says.

“He told me get something from here, but he didn’t tell me what it is.” You said.

“Like I said, nothing of his is here.” Ransom said. “I think he’s playing a little game to get us closer together.” He says.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“In the past couple days, my grandfather has been telling you to do little things to get you closer to me. Also, he always notices when I’m flirting with you and he doesn’t tell me to stop it.” He says.

Now that you realize it, you have noticed that the little things Harlan has told you to do lately has been getting you and Ransom closer to each other. Ransom flirting with you is nothing new. He’s been flirting with you since the day he met you.

“If I’m being honest, I like you.” He confesses.

“You what?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“I like you.” Ransom repeats. “A lot. That’s why I always flirt with you. Plus I think you’re cute when you’re shy and flustered around me.” He says, smirking to himself.

You felt blush creeping up on your cheeks. You didn’t know what to say or think. You weren’t expecting this at all. Your boss’s grandson just confessed his feelings to you. If you’re being honest, you like him too. You just didn’t want to be unprofessional and confess your feelings to Ransom and risking Harlan hearing you. Now that you two know his plan to get you two together, it doesn’t seem as unprofessional as you think it is now.

“I-I like you too.” You tell him nervously. “I just didn’t want to look or sound unprofessional in front of your grandfather.” You explained.

Ransom chuckles before putting yours and his tea cups on the coffee table. He moves closer to you, putting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Everything about me is unprofessional, sweetheart.” He says.

You looked in his blue eyes. You quickly and easily got lost in them. Your eyes drifted down to his lips. You couldn’t help but notice how soft and kissable his lips are. You were caught off guard when Ransom lunged forward and kissed you. You squeaked against his lips when you fell back against the couch. Your hands grabbed onto his sweater, clutching it tightly. The kiss was filled with so much passion that it took your breath away. Ransom pulled away, looking deep in your eyes and panting heavily. You were panting heavily too.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” He says.

“Me too.” You say.

Ransom smiles and pecks your lips softly a few times.

“When the snow lets up, do you want do go on a date?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered with a smile.

You leaned up and kissed him softly and sweetly.

“My grandfather will be pleased when he finds out we’re together now.” Ransom says, making you giggle.

💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸

-Bucky’s Doll

[soelstress]

Ambivalent Research

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader

Summary: Working with Ransom was never easy, so why did you think a joint research trip would be any different?

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language

A/N 1 - This is my first joint submission for @steviebbboi 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge and @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Sorry it's last minute!

A/N 2 - Prompts - - Enemies to lovers - "Slower, baby, I'm not going anywhere" - "We're both adults, we can share a bed for one night" - "Are you fucking kidding me?" - Withholding - getting scared during a horror movie

As a bonus, I asked Yenzy for two spins on the trick-or-treat wheel of potential doom... and for this one I chose the pillow fight!

A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - GIF taken from google but page was listed for @writemarvelousthings

A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The annoyed shout caused silence to fall as you stepped into the rustic lobby of the lodge. Optimistically, you had hoped that this trip would go smoothly… but of course nothing ever went to plan when he was involved, you thought with a disappointed sigh. “You’re fucking with me, right?” As you walked towards the check-in desk, you saw a staff member trying to apologize profusely to the person causing the ruckus. Any other person would probably see an exquisitely dressed, well groomed handsome man. All you saw was your boss Harlan Thrombey’s grandson, your fellow researcher and the biggest pain in your ass. 

Don’t-call-me-Hugh ‘Ransom’ Drysdale. When Harlan had said that Ransom would be working with you to research for Harlan’s next few mystery novels, you were filled with dread. From information you’d gleaned, Ransom was considered to be the black sheep of the family, a trust fund prick as they so lovingly called him. When asked, Harlan admitted that Ransom never had a job, only having worked as his research assistant for a summer. It was agreed between you and Harlan that you would have seniority, something you were grateful for as Ransom had been a reluctant participant to start, doing minimal work except for when he took every opportunity to cause trouble for you. He was an arrogant, self important conceited jerk who you wanted to kill… until things reached a peak one day. When Ransom had complained once again about working, you had lost all patience and your filter. “Fine! If you’re happy to keep sponging off your grandfather’s legacy and just remain a Drysdale in the self imposed so-called shadow of your parents rather than make something of yourself by your own efforts, then stop wasting my time and go!” From that day, Ransom had committed to contributing as much as possible. His work ethic might have improved… but he still annoyed you whenever the chance arose.

You subtly jabbed his side upon reaching the desk which caused his glare to focus on you. “Oops! Excuse me, Mr Drysdale. What seems to be the problem?” You offered your name to the staff member, the name you saw from his tag was Paul, who quickly found yours and Ransom’s booking were for the same company.

Another member of staff appeared behind Paul, radiating authority and a zero tolerance for nonsense attitude. Now this was someone who commanded respect, unlike the entitled idiot next to you whose gaze would have you murdered a million times over if looks could kill. “As my colleague Paul already explained to Mr Drysdale, unfortunately the pipes in his suite have burst, rendering the room unusable. Due to other bookings and events being reserved prior to yours, there are no other rooms available for tonight. We have called other hotels in the area, and found another suite at - “

”At a hotel 45 minutes away” Ransom interrupted. “Look, I need to be here for work. I don’t think you realize how important this could be for you, so why don’t you - “

”Share my suite” Three gazes focused on you though your attention was on the one that could potentially - and almost certainly would - make things more difficult. “We can share a room for a night”. Part of your brain screamed in horror and rebellion at the thought of sharing a room with him, but the other part scrambled to minimize the damage the arrogant asshole could cause with his big mouth and even bigger ego. Ransom opened his mouth to argue but when you jabbed him again and raised a brow, he knew to shut up. Or rather his version of shutting up which was to grumble and whine as he stomped over to the elevators. Rolling your eyes, you offered a small smile to the two staff members. “I’m so sorry about him, he shouldn't have spoken to you that way”.

Paul smiled at you gratefully, the weight of the world seemed to have dropped from his shoulders. “We have been trained to deal with such situations ma’am”.

You shook your head. “Just because a customer is paying for a service doesn’t give them the right to speak to you like that. Again, I’m very sorry and will be mentioning how professionally you handled this to my boss”.

”Thank you ma’am. Of course the suite will be refunded and due to the inconvenience, dinner is complimentary”. You thanked them profusely and headed to the elevator where Ransom fidgeted impatiently.

“So when should I get that refund?” Ransom huffed, pushing the call button.

You eyed him incredulously, somehow still amazed by his ego. ”You realise that Harlan will receive the refund, seeing as he paid?” Before you both stepped into the elevator, you pulled out your phone to call your boss. Upon hearing his greeting, a smile graced your lips. “Hello Harlan”

”Ah good afternoon dear girl”. You could hear the formality being replaced with fondness, a rare occurrence from what you had observed of Harlan. “I trust you and my grandson arrived safely at the lodge?” 

“Yes, though there is a slight change in plans”. Briefly, you informed him about the room being refunded and Ransom sharing a room with you instead of having to leave the area.

“Oh dear. I appreciate you being so accommodating, especially as I had wanted you both to specifically research the lodge and surrounding neighborhood for me. I must apologize in advance for my grandsons behaviour, as I know he seems to enjoy unnecessarily needling you”

”As long as I won’t be held accountable for any retaliation for the duration of this trip, short of bodily harm or murder”. You grinned as Harlan chuckled and Ransom gave you the side eye. You bid Harlan a good evening, ending the call.

”Retaliation huh? Now why would my dear Grandfather agree to that?” Ransom leaned back against the elevator wall. Your irritation flared at his casual arrogance. 

“Because he knows you ‘enjoy unnecessarily needling’ me Drysdale, and yes those were his exact words”. Inhaling deeply, you stood straight and held your ground. “Being a researcher is challenging enough, but to work for one as renowned as Harlan Thrombey is the chance of a lifetime and I’d be a fool to let anything ruin the opportunity. Which is what I told him when I applied for the role. After my interview and a few months of working for him, he said that he appreciated my honesty and work ethic, but also recognised I have no patience for drama or bullshit - a good deal of which is found within his own family, much to his disappointment”. Every word you spoke was true, Harlan had said all of this to you. Though you had overheard the specifics about his family while he was speaking to his caregiver Marta but you had met all of them in the few years you worked for Harlan. 

A dark brown arched. “Oh? And just what drama are you referring to?” With a ding, the elevator doors opened to your floor and Ransom hesitated before gesturing for you to move first. Finding your door a few strides down the corridor, you stopped and pulled the key card from your pocket. Opening the door, you waved for Ransom to precede you. 

”Take your pick, from your parents to your Uncle Walt or Aunt Joni. They all have their own drama. Though I wonder about how Harlan would react to hearing how much damage his eldest grandson could have caused by opening his big mouth without thinking. Newsflash Drysdale - any dramas linked to Harlan Thrombey or Blood Like Wine would be damaging. Those are the two names paying your income… and the only names worth mentioning. I’ve been doing this job for some time, so I’ll make it easy for you - despite what you, your mother or father may say no one has ever heard the name Drysdale with recognition outside of your social circle”.

Ransom's face darkened at the mention of his immediate family. “Hey, don’t compare me to those two. I asked Grandfather to show me the ropes for this business, so I could decide if it was something I wanted to do myself. But if by some small chance Grandfather leaves the company to me and not that idiot Walt, I’ve no intention to say that I’ve done my own work from the ground up. I’d say it’s Grandfathers and I’m just continuing his legacy”. A chuckle from you had him frowning. “What?”

”I think hell just froze over because I agree with you”. And you did. It irritated you that Linda, Ransom’s mother and Harlan’s eldest child, claimed to have built her business from the ground up by herself when in actuality she had used Harlan's money. And her husband wasn’t much better, you saw Richard’s eyes wander when you visited Harlan at his estate. All of the family repulsed you, trying to constantly outdo one another whilst trying to impress Harlan. But hearing Ransom say that he would honour and continue Harlan’s legacy rather than try to claim it for his own softened you slightly. 

Ransom had walked into the main area with a small seating area against the wall but a large king size bed dominated the space, facing beautiful views outside the windows. “You gotta be shitting me” he groaned, almost as if in pain.

When you saw the size of the couch, you knew that neither of you would be sleeping on it. It was soft and squashy looking, but more for sitting on than sleeping. Which really left you with one option. “For Gods’ sake. We’re both adults, we can share a bed for one night”. He glanced at you with an indecipherable look before sighing and stalking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Unsure whether to check on him after the look in his deep blue eyes, you hesitated. Oh yes, along with your annoyance of him came the reality that he really was a handsome bastard. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Dark hair swept off an angular face with soft pink lips and eyes to drown in, he really had won the genetic lottery. But his appearance aside, you had shared a few soft moments with him after the family gatherings he attended. Sometimes you would gently rub his back or pat his shoulder to ease the tension and resentment radiating off him. There were moments that you wanted to verbally comfort or reassure him, but after the brief physical contact he would pull away and annoy you before walking away. Part of you knew it was a defence mechanism, lashing out because it was all he knew. This time you decided to give him space.  

After eating dinner and making a plan to explore the area the next day, you changed into your pajamas - a matching set of cotton shorts and tank top -  and sat to watch a horror movie that you discovered had used the lodge you were currently staying at as a filming location. Harlan knew you were thorough in your research, so encouraged you to investigate any adaptations made to avoid plagiarism. You hated horror movies, much preferring a thriller or a mystery. But this was your job. As you sat watching, you hugged your pillow to your chest. Your heart began to pound watching the lead female edge into the dark room - 

and jumped as something grabbed you. Reacting on instinct, you swung out with your pillow and walloped whatever it was that had grabbed you. Surprised and amused blue eyes met yours. “Seriously? You hit me… with a pillow?”

Embarrassment was chased away by irritation. “Seriously” you mimicked his voice with a scowl. “You decided to scare me while watching a horror movie? Real mature, Drysdale”. 

“Pot, meet kettle” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and whacking you back.

It might have been immature, childish, just downright idiotic… but this man existed just to make your life a living hell. And you’d had reassurances from Harlan that any retribution this weekend would not be held accountable, So you decided the hell with it. And whacked him repeatedly with your pillow. Ransom was caught off guard for a moment before retaliating, making every effort to hit you with his pillow. At one point, you had stolen Ransom's pillow and struggled to keep hold of yours, Ransom in close proximity. Both your eyes locked as you panted, straining to win the pillow. 

The next moment the pillow was thrown aside and you were under Ransom, grabbing desperately at his hair, his sweater - anything to bring him closer. Your mouths clashed in a heated battle for dominance, filled with teeth and tongue. One arm propped his torso up to keep his weight off you while the other slid around your waist and pulled you against him. 

Once again your brain screamed at you - why the hell were you kissing Ransom Drysdale? More importantly, why the hell were you enjoying it so much? But your heart pounded loudly, drowning out your screaming thoughts and focusing on Ransom - how good his lips felt against yours, how smooth his hands felt gliding over your flesh, how he ground against you as desperately as you were to him. “Too many goddamn clothes” he hissed, yanking your top over your head and immediately latched his lips onto a nipple, fingers tweaking the other. Your back arched, pushing yourself closer to him. Desperate to feel his skin on yours you tugged at his sweater before he pulled back with a curse, almost ripping it off and tossing it aside before plunging his mouth to yours. His denim clad crotch ground against you, causing you to moan at the feel of his erection. Ransom pulled your shorts off, exposing you to him. His finger drifted up your thighs and across your folds before slowly sinking into your heat. He groaned against your lips, pushing in a few times before adding a second finger and curling them against your inner wall. 

His fingers worked a steady rhythm inside you as his palm rubbed against your clit. You moaned when a wave of pressure began to slowly build, rising to crest through you… and you whimpered when his hand stopped moving altogether. Desperate for friction you tried to grind your hips against his hand but he pulled it away, raising his head to look at his wet fingers. “Hmm.. I think you could be a little wetter, dear girl” he crooned, lightly mocking Harlan's usual endearment. When a snarl started to leave your throat, his fingers returned to the previous rhythm and any fight left you. His lips glided from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and tasting your skin in time with his digits. The wave of pleasure built again, threatening to consume you and just as you tasted the first hint of release Ransom stopped again. You heard a soft chuckle which only fueled your frustration at being denied.

”Drysdale. So help me, if you don’t make me cum right now-” a soft brush over your clit briefly interrupted your threat. “I know a half a dozen ways to end you without weapons or toxins” your growl turned into a breathless whimper when he blew softly onto your pulsing heat. Looking down, you could see him watching you inches from where you needed him.

”Is one of those ways smothering me with this wet cunt?” Those blue eyes sparkled with wicked sensuality. “Then end me right now, baby”. Suddenly he licked firmly into your dripping folds, groaning deeply as the first drop hit his tongue which had you squirming from the vibrations. “Goddamn… you taste so fine, kitten”. He lapped away, humming as you began to grind against his face. The tension from your two prior denials built with a vengeance and in your desire, you gripped his hair and pulled him closer. His nose brushed against your clit and you cried out which he answered with a pleased hum as he firmly suckled on your clit.

”Fuck!” Pleasure coursed from head to toe, your mind solely focused on prolonging the feeling as long as possible. Once the tremors had stopped, you laid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Glancing to the side you saw Ransom facing you, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and that goddamn smug-sonofabitch-smirk etched on his face, lips glistening from your juices. 

Suddenly filled with an urge to wipe the smirk off his face you moved to pull his jeans and boxers down, watching as his cock was freed. God, no wonder he walked around with that attitude. He was big, and for a moment you wondered how the hell it was meant to fit in you but you didn’t want to say it aloud and give him yet another ego boost. Scrambling to straddle him, you squirmed as his flesh rubbed between your folds. “Woah… slower, baby, I’m not going anywhere” Ransom chuckled which turned into a gasp when you squeezed him with your hands. Guiding his tip, you both moaned when it rubbed over your clit. Biting your lip you began to sink onto him. “Shit” he hissed, hands moving to grip your hips and control your descent. Moaning from the stretch you wriggled on him, unable to sit comfortably on his thighs. Cursing, he gently pushed you to lean back and you slid flush against him, the movement causing his cock to rub deeply within you. At your whimper, his eyes flashed to you. “You ok?”

Grinding against him, a small keen echoed through the room. “Feels so good… fuck… you’re so big”. 

Hearing your voice crack on the last word, Ransom began to roll his hips watching as you lost yourself to pleasure. Head tipped back, chest heaving and hands grasping for something. Ransom bucked up into you and then groaned when your hands dug into his flesh. ”Oh… my kitten has claws” he whispered, relishing the sight of the red marks. Feeling you clench around him Ransom continued to buck into you, his hands gripping your hips. ”Fuck yes… you want my cum kitten? Gonna cream this sweet little pussy”. You moaned loudly at his words, his hands guiding you through deep strokes as your walls sucked at his throbbing cock insistently. Your body began to tremble with that oh-so-familiar heat and you clenched tightly around Ransom, suddenly terrified he was going to edge you again. “Not gonna stop, baby” he murmured, gasping as your body shook with pleasure. “That’s it kitten, squeeze me. I’m gonna cum so hard for you”. Suddenly he tugged you down to him for a deep kiss, groaning against your lips as he came deep within you.

Panting, you rested against Ransom’s chest and heard the gentle lub-dub of his heart. His fingers brushed cautiously against your cheek, cupping your face when you pushed further into his touch. He tensed and you worried that he was going to revert to his pattern of lashing out. You couldn’t handle that, not after this. You cared about him, somehow falling for him along the way despite the antagonism between you. “Please”. He looked down at you, worry lining his face. “Please don’t pull away, Ransom”. 

Shaking his head, Ransom held you close. “I’m sorry baby, for being an asshole and making things difficult for you. Honestly, I just wanted you to notice me. But I’ve wanted more since you basically told me to grow some balls and make something of myself. You’re the first person apart from Grandfather to see something in me”. Ransom sighed heavily. “I’m a mess, kitten. Fuck, you’re more than familiar with the shit show that is my so-called family”. Your heart ached at the bitterness lacing his voice and moved your hand to rest on his chest. “I don’t know how to do this” he gestured between you before capturing your hand with his and pressing his lips to your palm. “But I want to try. For you. With you. I’m probably going to upset you and definitely annoy you… but I want to try and make you happy”.

“Like our research”. He cocked his head at your answer. “Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out”. At your soft giggle, his blue eyes sparkled. “Together. We’ll do it together”.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 5

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, Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

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.

 You left Bucky dumbfounded after you tried to hit him. You were so angry after hearing that you got fired and lashed out at him.

If he wants to report you, so be it. You don’t care. You have lost everything. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You went to see your dad, who was arranging flowers for the next family.

“Dad, I’m going back to the city today,” you said, your voice tight.

“What’s the result?” Tom asked, remembering today was the day for the investigation results.

You rubbed your nose with your finger and cleared your throat, trying to hold back tears. “They let me go, but I got fired instead. But hey, at least I got my money back.” Your bank account had been unlocked by the judge, and you wanted to go back to the city to get all your stuff and sell your penthouse.

Tom looked concerned. “You want me to go with you?”

You shook your head. “No. I will come back after two days.”

“I’ll drive you to the station,” Tom offered, his voice filled with worry.

You headed back to the car and noticed Bucky wasn’t there anymore. As you drove to the station, the silence between you and your dad was heavy with unspoken words.

When you arrived at the station, you saw Natasha again. She looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and jealousy. “You’re using the train? Why didn’t you use the car that Bucky gave you?” She felt bitter since Bucky never offered her his car, yet you, who had just come back, could use it.

You knew from her tone that she was jealous. You just said, “It’s too slow.”

Natasha scoffed, “Yeah right.” Then she left.

You rolled your eyes; she hadn’t changed at all.

******

You arrived back in the city. Once, you thought this place would be your home. Now, you just wanted to leave it behind.

You didn’t want to set foot in the company again. You told your secretary to throw away all your stuff. Besides, there was nothing important. You had already secured everything in your safe deposit box. That’s why you had to clear your name to get access to your bank account back.

Early the next morning, you went to the bank. All you needed was the pen drive. It held all the leverage you might need. If someone tried to put you in a bad spot, this would be your last resort.

As you entered the bank, you felt a sense of relief mixed with determination. You approached the safe deposit boxes and signed the necessary forms. The pen drive felt heavy in your hand, despite its small size. It contained all the proof of strange transactions and could clear your name or take down those who had wronged you.

After securing the pen drive, you took a moment to breathe. Once a place of dreams and ambition, the city felt like a battlefield you had barely escaped.

After that, you got into the taxi to go back to your condo. As the car stopped at a red light, you saw the tall building—the headquarters owned by the Drysdale family.

You used to come here every morning, even sleeping in your office sometimes. But now, it was all in the past.

It still left a bitter taste in your mouth. After everything you did, they just threw you away. You wondered who would replace you since you knew your skills were unparalleled. No one could match you.

What made you so upset was Ransom. Until now, he hadn’t replied to a single message or email you’d sent him.

To be honest, you saw it coming. The friendship between you two had long since deteriorated. There was a time you liked him, but those feelings vanished after overhearing a conversation at a party where Ransom talked with his friends.

One of his friends had asked, “What’s up with you and her? We’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

Ransom scoffed, sipping his whiskey. “Nothing. I only see her as numbers. She’s the key to making me lead the company.”

“Wow,” his friend had replied, impressed.

You were heartbroken when you heard that. But part of you had expected it, knowing that Ransom was out of your league.

You arrived at your condominium and began packing. You had once thought your life was sad because your place was so empty. But now, you were grateful since it meant you could move out quickly.

You gathered everything into your luggage and boxes.

'Ding.Dong'

Then you heard the doorbell. You wondered who it could be. Besides your assistant, Ransom was the only other person who ever came to your place. Could it be him? But he never replied to any of your texts.

You looked at the camera by the door and saw Ransom on the screen. He looked a mess.

Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling up. You hesitated for a moment before opening the door. Ransom stood there, disheveled, his eyes hollow and tired.

You were confused. Should you open the door or not? On the other hand, you needed answers too.

Holding back your anger, you opened the door. Ransom was taken aback. He didn’t seem to expect you would actually open the door for him.

You stood behind the door, opened your arms as if welcoming him, and said, “You owe me an explanation.”

Ransom, hesitating for a moment, put his hands into his coat pockets and walked into your condo. He noticed the luggage and boxes scattered around the living room.

“You're leaving,” he observed.

Ransom scratched his head, frustration evident, then put his hand on his waist and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You gave him a stern look. “Why are you upset? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and tired. “It's for the best.”

You scoffed, incredulous. “That's it? After years together, you just throw me away like that?”

You pointed your finger at him, anger boiling over. “I knew it was you who framed me for insider trading.”

Ransom walked past you, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He drank slowly, as if buying time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he opened his arms and leaned against the marble counter. “It's more complicated than you think.”

You crossed your arms tightly. “I'm not in the mood to solve a puzzle.”

Ransom sighed. “Three days before the FBI raided your office, my family heard Harlan’s will.”

After Harlan’s funeral, his will wasn’t read immediately. It was his last request to delay the reading.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you demanded.

Ransom’s eyes bore into yours. “Because Harlan chose you!”

You felt like the ground had been pulled out from under you. “Me?” you gasped, speechless. Now, it all made sense—why none of the Drysdales were willing to help you. They were angry, feeling like you had stolen their birthright.

“It was my mom and her siblings who contacted the FBI and got you fired,” Ransom admitted.

“And where were you?” you yelled, hugging yourself tightly. “You’re no different from them! You left me alone.”

Ransom took a step closer, placing his hands on your shoulders gently. “I was captured.”

You raised your head, eyes wide with disbelief. “Really?”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “They let me out after they finally got what they wanted.”

"For you to get fired," Ransom began, his tone sympathetic as he addressed the issue.

“Why? I also didn't know that Harlan chose me. If you had asked me, I would have refused it,” you expressed, your voice tinged with disbelief and frustration as you crossed your arms tightly, your body language mirroring your inner turmoil. Your brow furrowed, and your shoulders tensed as you spoke, emphasizing the weight of your words.

“I know. That's what I told them,” Ransom replied, pulling you into a hug, his embrace offering both comfort and reassurance as he wrapped his arms around you securely. You stiffened momentarily in surprise at his gesture before relaxing into the embrace, your body melting into his as you allowed yourself to be comforted.

“Their plan backfired though,” Ransom continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he spoke, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and exasperation at the situation.

“Huh?” you responded, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, your body tense with anticipation as you awaited his explanation. Your arms remained crossed tightly over your chest, a defensive stance reflecting your skepticism.

“The employees made a petition for you to come back,” Ransom revealed, his tone tinged with amusement at the irony of the situation, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

You were left speechless, the news catching you off guard. You had always kept to yourself at work, never realizing your impact on your colleagues, your eyes widening in surprise as you processed his words.

Ransom chuckled softly. “You're the reason why we got triple profits and they got bonuses. Why would they want to lose you?” he remarked, admiration evident in his voice, his gaze locked on yours with a mixture of fondness and respect. You offered a small, hesitant smile in response, your body language softening as his words sank in.

For the last few years, the projects that you and your team worked on have consistently generated significant profits, earning you the respect and appreciation of your colleagues, a sense of pride swelling within you as you recall your past achievements.

You nodded slowly, a sense of validation washing over you as you acknowledged the impact of your work.

“And I'm here to tell you that you're not fired,” Ransom declared, his words carrying a sense of relief and sincerity, his eyes searching yours for any sign of acceptance or understanding.

You were supposed to be happy when you heard that, but with your father's condition, you had second thoughts.

You pushed Ransom away, whispering, “I'm sorry.”

Ransom looked puzzled. “What?”

You struggled to explain, “The reason why I said no is because of my dad. He's got cancer.” And you're still hurt by the betrayal from the company you've worked for a long time.

Ransom's eyes widened. “You went back home and met your dad?”

You nodded your head.

Ransom couldn't believe this. He had never heard you mention your dad until now, and it was the first time he saw you being vulnerable.

“Alright. I can't stop you,” Ransom said resignedly. He knew you had to go, but he was going to miss you. It would be difficult to find a talented person like you.

“Wait. Does it mean you've met the people who made your life miserable?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“You should show them the new you,” Ransom suggested. Having attended the same high school, he had witnessed what they did to you.

You looked at Ransom, considering his words. It was strange hearing him advise you like this, given your complicated history. But there was a sincerity in his voice that made you pause.

“Maybe,” you mumbled, still uncertain.

Ransom nodded, his expression softening. “They don't know what they're missing out on. You've grown stronger, more resilient.”

You managed a weak smile, appreciating his attempt to boost your spirits. Despite everything, there was a flicker of gratitude for his unexpected support.

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30 Minutes

Summary: reader shows up to an empty house and finds ransom in the office with divorce papers.

Warning: swearing,angry fuck,breeding kink

“Ran!” I called out,stepping into the now empty penthouse, “where the fuck are my things?!” I made a beeline to Ransom’s office, “you better have a damn good explanation for this,mister!” I slammed the door open,breaking the knob.

Ransom sat there blank, “What is this,Hugh? You trying to neglect me because I told you I didn’t want children?!” He sighed and lift his hand up to his temple, “sign the papers” Ransom spoke.

“You’re fucking pathetic—I am not signing anything!” I started to walk away and he caught up with me, holding me by my chest, “If not having children is what you wanted,you should’ve stayed a whore” He whispered to me, which made me turn around to face him.

“How dare you?” I brought my hand to his face,slapping him red, “You want children? You want a wife? I’ll give you all of those in just 30 minutes” I undid his belt and he slammed me on the wall.

“You want a housewife and a baby momma? C’mon make me one if you’re so desperate for one” I kissed him,yanking off his shirt and taking off his pants,hurriedly, “you only got 30 minutes,baby— you can do faster than that” He growled, his cock was already hard and leaking, Ransom makes me jump, landing my legs on his waist.

I push my white thong to the side and inserted his fat cock in me, “You’re gonna fucking regret even considering to divorce me,I want those— fuck— papers gone tomorrow” He started to pump his dick in me,my walls clenching him.

“Shut the fuck up!” He thrusted continuously in me,my back against the hard wall and my hand on his back,scratching at every pleasure.

“Fuck,give me your babies” I moaned kissing his cheek,he abused my g spot and started to handle a bruising a grip on my thigh.

His mouth now on mine, entering his skillful tongue in my mouth, Ransom kept thrusting real good into my guts, “I’m gonna cum,Ran!” I said, stabilizing myself on his shoulder,then he shot ropes of his release in my cunt.

“Mhmhmm” I moaned as I came onto him.

-•-•-

Ransom sat in his chair,all sweaty and flushed red,I poured him a glass of whiskey and cold glass of water, “why aren’t you drinking?” Ransom asked, “prepping for the next few weeks” I smiled, “You sure about the whole baby thing?” He asked pulling me onto his lap.

“Yeah,Anything for you” I kissed him,”people are going to put your things back in an hour”

“I love you,Hugh” I brush my hand over his band cladded pinky, “I love you” he looked at me with a soft smile.

[nickiewrites]

Acts of Love. (Ransom Drysdale)

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing mentions of sex

Words: 1,578

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: You and Ransom have been going out for a while and were together all of quarantine. But now your college and work has opened back up. It’s the weekend before and Ransom is being…clingy.

A/N:

This turned out... SO DIFFERENT than I imagined but I still think its cute af

~

The loud crack of thunder from outside the window jolted me awake. I blinked my eyes, wondering what time it was, since it was dark in the room but still light enough to see things. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table.

10:38 am

I yawned, stretching out my arms and legs, dragging my hands down the expensive sheets. They were the softest material, lightweight and breathable black sheets. At least $500 for the set. I started making snow angel-like movements when my hand hit something next to me. I smiled and turned towards that side of the bed. Another loud crack of thunder and a strike of lighting make his eyes open slightly.

“Shit, that’s loud.” He groans.

“Yeah I know. Woke me up too.”

“How long ago?”

“Not long.”

“Guess we can’t have our coffee on the porch today.” Ransom huffed.

I crawled out of bed, walking to his side of the bed and grabbing his sweater from the ground. I found my panties on the end of the bed frame and grabbed them and slipped both items on.

“It’s okay, as long as I’m with you.” I smiled, walking out of the bedroom and through the penthouse to the kitchen. I started up the coffee maker, making mine first. As that was brewing, I made some oatmeal and bacon. The sound on the machine went off and I switched it to make Ransom’s coffee just the way he likes it; Black. When everything was finished, I put it all on a large tray and carried it back to the bedroom.

When I walked in, Ransom was sat on the bay window, adjacent to the large king size bed. With only his boxers on, he turned to look at me and smiled, rain pouring down the window behind him.

“You made breakfast aswell? You didn’t have too.” He said, voice still raspy from sleep. He stood up and grabbed the tray from me, putting it on the dresser next to the window. He sat back down on the cushioned seat and pulled me into his lap, my back resting against his chest. He turned to grab my coffee and handed it to me and then grabbed his. With his free arm wrapped around my middle. I rested my head on his arm.

“Want some food?” he asked after a minute.

“Sure.” I smiled, grabbing some bacon off the plate.

I thought to myself for a minute before I spoke up again. “I don’t want to go back to school.” I said.

I felt Ransom get tense underneath me. I knew he didn’t want to even think about it. We had only started dating a few months before pretty much the whole world went on lockdown. Ransom had asked me to stay at his condo with him during it, so I had packed some of my clothes and other necessities in a large suitcase and that was where I had been for the past 3 months. When the state of Massachusetts had started to open things up and I got called back to work and school, we both knew that things were going to change. We has gotten use to our new normal, spending all day together, watching movies, reading books, taking bathes, having sex, walks around the city, take out from our favorite restaurants in the park, more sex, dragging Ransom to the store because although we were in lockdown, we couldn’t have take-out every night. Everyday together for 3 months.

We had our fair share of fights, only one here or there, about stupid things. But I knew Ransom was stubborn and I never let us go to bed angry. He had also gotten soft and attached to me over the lockdown. Not so attached that he couldn’t be alone or his own person, but he had opened up to me, quiet profusely compared to when we had started dating. I understood him more than anyone else. And now that I was going to be gone all day, he didn’t want to slip into his old life.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t either, but I can’t say no. I have to go back to work and I’d like to graduate soon, at least.” I said, taking a bite of oatmeal and handing it back to him. I sat up and turned to face him.

“I can take care of you. Granddad likes you a lot, I’m sure if I told him I wanted to do that, he would be more than happy to give us a down payment on my share of the will right now.” He leaned in towards me.

I smiled. “I don’t want your money or your family’s money. I just want you. And as my boyfriend, you should support the fact that I’m working my ass off at my shitty job, just to pay for my schooling, so that I can get a good job, that I love, and I can spend more time with my needy significant other.” I laughed.

Ransom looked down at his hands before grabbing me and wrapping my legs around his middle, my hands resting gently on his abs, my head on his chest, arms running up and down my back softly. “I do support you in anything you do, baby. I just kinda forgot what life was like before this. I’m gonna miss you a lot.” He said, kissing my forehead.

I sighed, hearing the sadness in his voice, making me more depressed about having to leave him. “I’m gonna miss you too, I’ve gotten so use to being around you and dealing with your attitude. And not having to worry if I’ve left shit behind because… it’s all already here.” I giggled.

And it was almost as if a lightbulb went on in Ransoms head. He perked up.

“What if…you just... moved in here?”

I was silent for a minute, processing what he just said, before he continued.

“You’d be closer to work, closer to school, I could drive you and pick you up. Still have breakfast and dinner together, movies together on your days off. You wouldn’t have to worry about leaving anything… or leaving me. Because you would know you’re coming right back here.” He said, whispering the last part in my ear.

“Ransom- “I started before I was interrupted.

“Baby, think about it. You’re 22, you still live at home, you’ve told me so many times about how your sister drives you insane. I’ve also seen it first-hand.” He laughed.

“I-it’s not that. I just want to make sure you’re… serious. I don’t want you to regret it.”

“Of course not. Never, baby. I love you.” He said.

And he caught me breathless for the 2nd time in the past 10 minutes.

“W-what… what did you just…?” I stammered, looking up at him.

“I. love. you.” He spoke the words again. My mouth dropped open and my eyes widen.

“I would have asked you to move in with me if lockdown had happened or not. I love you so much, sweetheart. I’ve pretty much been whipped for you since the first time I laid eyes on you. Why do you think I started cleaning up my act? You make me want to be so much better.” He said, pulling me to him and attaching his lips with mine.

I felt butterflies in my stomach. I always did with him. Even when we first met and I knew nothing about how he felt about me but was very aware of his track record with girls, I still felt them. I felt them every time he grabbed my hand in the car, when he picked it up and kissed it, I felt them when his hand found the small of my back at family gatherings, I felt them when I dragged him to the store and he kept his arm around my shoulders while I push the cart and he talks to me about all the random shit that is put into foods. I feel them when we’re watching a movie together and Ransom tries to hide a laugh, but I can feel it or see or hear it. I feel them when we’re sitting outside, reading books and when we’re done, he asks me what I read and if I liked it or not, making me a coffee and genuinely listening to what I’m saying. I feel them when he stops by my work to bring me food and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he leaves. I feel them when I have loads of homework and he comes home, noticing how stressed I am, cooks the most simple dinner and brings it up to me and then after I’ve been frying my brain for 3 hours, he pulls me away and into the bathroom, seeing he’s drawn me a bath with the hottest water, the best smelling soap and my favorite show playing on his laptop, telling me he’d be just in the bedroom if I needed anything.

Obviously, I feel them during sex.

We had a lot of nights with rough, angry sex, just wanting to fuck each other so much, so badly. But also nights, like the first time, where we just want to be together, be close to each other, make love. And that’s when I get the butterflies.

When he shows me acts of love.

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi! 💙

For your impromptu springtime ask game, I'd love to request Ransom Drysdale with smut prompt 3. “do you want them to hear you being such a slut?”

Thank you in advance! 💙

a scheme on a spring day

pairing: husband!ransom drysdale x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, anal play/butt plug, anal sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, choking, daddy kink, dirty talk, light degradation, light humiliation, praise kink, light bdsm, orgasm control, pet names (baby, baby girl), aftercare, fluff, light family angst, established relationship

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: hi hi thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! this turned out to be a little more angsty than i anticipated, but sometimes i just wanna smuggle Ransom away from his family and cuddle him—and this was my opportunity to live out that dream!! anyway, i hope you enjoy!! ♡

You knew better than to let your husband convince you to go along with one of his schemes, but Ransom Drysdale had a way of winning you over to his side. In fact, it took shockingly little convincing from Ransom to get you to go along with his idea to make a boring visit with his family more entertaining. 

But then, he was your husband, and you trusted him. Besides, you knew you’d get just as much enjoyment from his scheme as he did.

Eventually, anyway. 

Still, you couldn’t help but rue the moment you’d given in to Ransom’s idea when you walked into the Thrombey house desperately aware of the plug in your ass that shifted with every step you took.

From an outsider’s perspective, you knew you looked every bit the presentable wife on Ransom’s, wearing a pretty spring sundress with sandals. But you and your husband knew the extra accessory you’d worn, and it gave you just as much of a thrill as you were sure it gave Ransom to know what you were hiding beneath your skirt.

By the time you arrived at the Thrombey estate, you’d already soaked through your panties on the short ride over from the home you shared with Ransom. To make matters worse, you had to make small talk with Linda and Richard while worrying about your arousal dripping down your thighs.

Thankfully, Ransom kept his hand on your lower back, his touch having a steadying effect on you. That is, except when his palm occasionally dropped low to grope your ass, making you shoot him a warning glare when no one was looking. 

He ignored you, pretending to play the part of dutiful son and grandson. You were the only one who saw the way he gritted his teeth, making the muscle in his jaw pop, when Richard or Linda gushed over how you’d turned Ransom’s life around. How you’d finally been the one person to set him straight.

No matter how many times you tried to brush off the comments, telling them that Ransom had made himself a respectable man, they persisted. When you could tell it had become too much for Ransom—and you worried over the state of his teeth if he kept grinding them—you politely excused yourself and your husband from the conversation.

Before you could get roped into a sales pitch for Joni’s latest pyramid scheme, Ransom guided you to the back of the house and out onto the porch, though he didn’t stop there. When you set foot in the lush green lawn and turned your face up to the bright spring sunshine, something inside your chest loosened—which only reminded you of the plug wedged deep in your ass.

Ransom paused for only a moment to brush a kiss to your lips, a thank you for getting him away from his parents, and then he grabbed your hand and began tugging you toward the tree line that separated the lawn from the rest of the Thrombey estate. 

Behind the house, there were paths that meandered into the forest and Ransom led you down one of these until you were hidden in the trees. There, scattered along the forest floor were hundreds of small purple flowers, sprung up thanks to the spring rains. 

You admired the blooms as you walked behind Ransom, your husband picking his way carefully off the path and beneath the shade of a massive tree.

Turning to you, Ransom wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you again, a more thorough plundering of your mouth that had you moaning against his lips. Your knees went weak beneath you, but your husband’s strong arms held you up, your fingers digging into the soft wool of his sweater. 

When Ransom pulled away, he didn’t move far, his forehead pressing to yours and his deep breaths ghosting past your lips, making you crave him more. 

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby,” he murmured, squeezing you in his arms and pressing a quick kiss to your swollen lips. “I think it’s time daddy gives you a little treat for being so good.” Ransom bucked his hips against you so you could feel the bulge in his pants, making you moan again.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you cried, throwing your head back and baring your throat to Ransom’s hungry mouth. His trailed kisses down your neck, grinding his erection against your belly until both of you were desperate with desire.

Then, he turned you around and knelt behind you, pushing your dress up past your hips and baring your ass to him. He pulled your panties down your legs, ducking forward to sink his teeth into the plush softness of your ass, making you squeal loudly. 

“Ransom!” you admonished your husband, shooting him a look over your shoulder, though there was no real heat to your tone. Especially not when Ransom licked the bite mark he’d left, wringing a soft whimper from your lips.

“You know I can’t help myself when it comes to your ass, baby,” Ransom said, exactly zero repentance in his tone. You huffed a laugh, but the sound devolved into a low groan when your husband began to play with the plug in your ass, pulling it out and pushing it back in. “You’re such a good girl,” Ransom murmured, pressing kisses to the globes of your ass between his words, “Wearing this pretty little plug for daddy—now it’s time for your reward.”

With that, Ransom eased the plug from your tight hole, tucking it into his pocket while he pulled out a small bottle of lube. He spread more in your ass and on his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. Then he was helping you sit down on his lap, his cock sliding easily into your tightest hole.

You gasped and moaned, feeling Ransom’s cock stretch your ass even more than the plug. But wearing it had prepared you well enough that it didn’t hurt. You only felt the delicious fullness and pleasure of Ransom filling you up, moaning happily when your ass pressed flush against your husband’s thighs. 

Ransom leaned back against the tree you sat beneath, pulling you to recline against his chest, making it impossible for you to move. All you could do was sit in your husband’s lap, your ass impaled on his cock, your pussy dripping down between your legs and coating his balls while you enjoyed the warm spring day, the sweet scent of the purple flowers filling your nose and the breeze rustling the trees of the forest.

“Enjoying your treat, baby?” Ransom rumbled in your ear, a little bit of teasing in his tone that made you squirm. Both of you moaned as you shifted and Ransom’s big hands grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs wide open. “Such a filthy little slut, baby girl,” he groaned, cupping your pussy in his palm. You whined, trying to grind against him, but he spanked your cunt instead, making you cry out. “Soaking wet from taking daddy’s cock in your ass when we’re supposed to be spending time with my family.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond because Ransom shoved three of his fingers into your pussy, the intrusion feeling so much more overwhelming with his cock buried in your other hole. You screamed. Your back arching away from Ransom’s chest, your head falling back on his shoulder, and the piercing wail of your pleasure filling your ears and the forest around you.

Quick as lightning, Ransom’s other hand flew to your throat and he squeezed it tightly, cutting off the sound. “You’re going to have to be quiet, baby girl, unless you want them to hear you,” he growled in warning. 

But at the same time, Ransom’s fingers began fucking your pussy, plunging sloppily into your cunt, his palm slapping against your clit with every thrust. It was all you could do to shriek and squeal as pleasure consumed you.  

“Do you want them to hear you being such a slut?” Ransom taunted you, his words only making you writhe and squirm more on his cock. “Do you want them to find you like this—my cock buried in your sweet ass, my fingers fucking your tight cunt, and you unable to control yourself because you’re such a fucking slut for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, not even knowing if you were agreeing with your husband or simply urging him on. Your pleasure was building, coiling tight in your core, and you knew if he kept up his treatment of your body, you were going to come. “Please, daddy, please can I come?” 

“Already, baby girl?” Ransom teased, warmth in his tone. You whined your answer, pressing your throat into his hand and he chuckled. Your husband brushed a kiss to your cheek, fucking you harder with his fingers, grinding his palm against your clit every time they bottomed out in your cunt. “Go ahead, baby, come whenever you want.”

That was all you needed to tip you over the edge. Your screams of pleasure were stifled by Ransom’s hand around your throat, choking you hard enough that your entire being was reduced down to the feeling of his cock in your ass and his fingers in your cunt. Your orgasm was explosive, your body going tight and shaking through wave after wave of ecstasy.

Your husband grunted in your ear, and you knew from the way his cock throbbed in your tight hole that he was spilling himself deep in your body. A pleased smile curved your lips as you sagged back against his chest, letting the warmth of his come fill you with as much satisfaction as your release had.

Heaving a deep groan of relief, Ransom’s body relaxed beneath yours, his arms circling your waist and holding you tight against his body while he pressed butterfly kisses to your cheek, neck and shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as his kisses, a contrast to the rough way he’d fucked you.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “I needed this today.”

You stroked his arms soothingly and turned your face so you could capture your husband’s lips in a gentle kiss. “I know, Ran,” you whispered when you pulled away. And you did. 

You knew how hard it was for Ransom to see his family. No matter how hard he tried, they still only saw him as the black sheep. In fact, marrying you was the only right thing he’d done in their eyes. 

It made days at the Thrombey house nearly unbearable, which was why you always went along with Ransom’s schemes to make it enjoyable for both of you. His ideas were often filthy and naughty, but they meant giving your husband the reassurance he needed to get through the day. 

So if you had to go along with a scheme on a spring day to help your husband, you were more than happy to do so—especially when it ended with the both of you smiling and content in each other’s arms.

[until-we-fall-in-love]

la volpe

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader, slight Marta Cabrera x Reader

Summary: You and Ransom have a complicated relationship.

Warnings: Smut, slightly dub-con because Ransom is an asshole, slightly unhealthy relationship, mild bdsm, rough sex.

If you are under 18, you should not be reading this!

A/N: hello everyone!! no one asked for this and yet here it is!! i hate ransom!! but alas, now i have this smutty fic of him so lmao enjoy?? also i’m physically incapable of writing ana de armas and not making it somehow romantic im so sorry i just have too big of a crush on her and marta

let me know what you thought of this!!!

***

The musical clinking of glasses and cutlery is soft against the piano twinkling in the background. The lights are low and glowing, candles and sparkling, dim-lit chandeliers overhead. The restaurant is dark and lavish, velvet and smelling rich and spiced and enticing. Wine is placed before you, plum and bitter berry tasting. It’s fine and expensive and you swirl it delicately in your sparkling glass. 

Your eyes flicker up to the man across from you, seated casually, leaning back in his chair with broad shoulders covered in a black, finely knit sweater. It’s expensive, you can tell simply by looking at it. Designer, you’re sure. You know his shoes have blood red bottoms. He drips wealth still, smug as ever, handsome as ever. 

“You look good.” He says with a smile curling at his lips. 

You take a sip of wine. Your back is straight, the black, cashmere turtle-neck clinging to your figure. The delicate, ruby earrings glint under the low light, your hair pulled back elegantly. 

Of course you look good.

“What do you want, Ransom?” You ask, setting the glass down carefully. You study him with cutting eyes, skeptical, but composed. 

“Can’t I take my girl out to a nice dinner?” He asks, his eyes glimmering. 

“Haven’t been your girl in months.” You counter, drum your crimson colored nails against your glass. You grow impatient, sigh lightly and glance away from him.  

“C’mon, don’t be like that, princess.” He croons all low and soft, leaning forward onto the table. You like when his eyes flash like that, sincere for you. Just on the right side of desperate. He deserves it, since it’s been months since you’d last heard from him. 

You’re actually certain he has a new girl on his arm now. 

And you want to make him squirm a little. 

You roll your eyes at him, at the way he tries to butter up to you with the nice dinner and a few compliments. You know he wants something. He always wants something and the gleam in his eyes is too sharp and pretty. Greedy, greedy man that would gorge himself on you, on this life, if you’d let him. 

You bite your lip, watch as his eyes track the movement like a predator. 

He at least needs to work for it.

“I could be doing a thousand other things right now, Ransom. Why am I out to dinner with you?” You ask instead, your lashes fluttering prettily as your eyes land on him once more. Your features are aloof and cold and haughty. It makes his blood boil, you can see it in the curl of his lips. 

He huffs lightly, “Oh, yeah, busy Harvard graduate student, isn’t that right?” His voice is just shy of a sneer when he asks, “How’s the dissertation going, kitten?” 

“Well, thank you.” 

You look down your nose at him as his own eyes settle into a glare. The blue of his eyes burns and smolders, bright and sparking on you. Your gazes are as sharp as knives, gleaming and ready to gut each other. 

You wait until he relents, takes this loss to hopefully get a win. He lowers his eyes with another breath, concedes. 

He’ll give you another compliment, maybe reach across the table to touch you. Then he’ll ask you for what he needs. 

“I am glad to hear that.” He says smoothly, “I know how much it means to you. I’m sure it’s incredible.” And he offers you an earnest look, the one you’re sure he’s used to get into plenty of girl’s panties. 

And like clockwork, he reaches over to brush his fingers against yours, which are gently resting on the stem of your wine glass. 

He gives you a smile like that’s supposed to work.

You roll your eyes, pull your hand from his.

You watch the heat and anger rush over his features and wonder if he’s going to make a scene. Now that would be fun. You wonder if you’ll get to toss your wine all over that expensive sweater, storm out only for him to follow hot on your trails. And he’ll drag you to the car and you’ll scream at each other until you’re kissing and your nails are biting into his skin and he’s trying to teach you a lesson in manners—

If your cheeks flush, he doesn’t notice, because he snaps, “Are you always such a brat?” 

You smile for the first time that evening. 

“No, you just bring out the worst in me.” You quip back before taking another slow, savored sip of wine.

He scoffs, “I could say the same of you.” 

“Then why am I here?” 

Now he does soften a little, “I want you to come home with me for my grandfather’s birthday party.” 

Your brows furrow and you settle back into your chair, skeptical. “Don’t you have a girlfriend right now? Why not just bring her?” You ask, even though you already know the answer to your own question.

“You know you’re the only one I bring home to my psychotic family.” He says and now he captures your hand with his, brushes his thumb over your knuckles, leans close and in your space. His cologne is familiar and washes over you, spiced and warm and musky. Expensive.

“You’re psychotic, too.” You respond, but allow your fingers to slip into his. His hand is warm against yours and it slides against your palm, open and large. His fingers brush over the pulse in your wrist, move along the sensitive skin there. 

“That’s why you fit in there, princess.” He says and gives you a shark’s smile, so hooked and gutting. He lowers his voice for you, “And,” His eyes roll up to catch yours, “I’ve missed you.” 

The hint of vulnerability in his face makes you hum lightly, amused or pleased or warmed by it. You’ve missed him, too, in truth. Nobody is like Ransom.

There’s something about him and you that always keeps you two returning to one another. He’s inevitable, you think. You’ve never known anyone to get under your skin in such a way, to burrow their way into you and refuse to leave. 

He’s a disease. 

One you can’t cure yourself from. He’s ruined you for anyone else. 

But you think you’ve ruined him, too. 

It’s been months since your last fling with him. Years since you officially dated but you’re both always circling back to one another. He doesn’t bring any other girls home besides you. He was only ever serious about you. You’re both fated in some way, your stars entwined, looped and crashing into one another again and again. A dance that never ends, that you never want to end.

“Yeah?” You ask, soft and breathy, leaning towards him now, too. “Whad’ya miss about me, Ransom?” 

His eyes flicker lower, over your form and they roam slow and savoring. He licks his lips fleetingly. “Well,” He begins, “I miss fucking you.” 

The vulgarity shouldn’t shock you, it shouldn’t make you flush, but it does. You blame the little wine you’ve had. You pull from his touch once more, continue your game of cat and mouse and try to keep your thoughts from sliding into memories of him on top of you. At your neck with teeth. Parting your legs.

“Pig.” You scoff, shaking your head and pulling your hand from his. “You have a girlfriend.” 

“Yeah, but she’s not you.” He muses, “No one’s you.” He adds, tilting his head slightly. “So c’mon. Come home with me, baby.” He then almost purrs and smiles again, slow and charming this time. He means it now and it’s the kind of smile that gets him out of trouble if he ever tried to wear it. It could be boyish, if it wasn’t so hungry. 

You pick up your wine glass once more, glare over the rim before taking another sip. A bigger one this time, let it burn down your throat and warm your chest. You think your heart is beating faster than it should as he looks at you as if he wants to lay you out on this very table. 

“Get me a diamond bracelet and I will.” You tell him, your bottom lip sticking out a little as you gaze back at him. 

His eyes spark, dance with the flame of the candle. He looks a little crazed now, like he’s lost a few screws and hasn’t bothered to find them again. He looks a little wild-eyed and it’s enticing, the uncertainty in him. The promise of pain and pleasure and the fast pace life of the wealthy. All beautiful and dirty and filthy fucking rich.

He takes your hand and kisses it, slides his lips to your palm. To your wrist where your pulse flutters underneath his mouth, beneath the touch of his tongue. The threat of teeth. He murmurs then, his voice smooth and low and so lovely it makes you shiver;

“Anything for you, princess.” 

***

The Cartier white-gold, diamond bracelet catches in the sun proudly and flashes brilliant light as your hand slides into Ransom’s while he helps you out of his car. You step out onto the gravel driveway and smooth out the tight, leather black skirt hugging your hips and thighs. You inch it down as you ready to see the Thrombey’s once more after nearly a year. You adjust your cream, turtleneck sweater, too. The knitting chunky and loose, oversized on you but chic and soft to the touch.

You have to be sure the wine dark bruise on your neck is covered, the red marked rings around your wrist are drowned in the sleeves of your sweater. Can’t have his family realizing his tastes in bondage, not that you think he would care, but you certainly do. 

In fact, the mere memory of it makes you flush with heat in the crisp autumn air. 

You’d barely gotten into Ransom’s apartment in the city before he’d shoved you hard against the door. A picture rattles, swings precariously. He kisses you with a brutalness you haven’t felt in months, the quick cut of his teeth at your bottom lip. His hands on your body, hungry, greedy hands that want to take and take and take. 

You’d shoved him back, tried to get him off you as you glared up at him with fever dark eyes. Your chest was already heaving, rising and falling in quick bursts, your face flushed with color. 

You’d already look frazzled, hair slipping from the updo it’d been in. His little hell cat, little brat that’s gotta try and fight him on everything. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You’d gasped, your lips already raw and spit-slick and he’d wanted to absolutely fucking ruin you--

He had smirked lazily, as if the whole world was his to take. But there was a restless bite to him, a deep seated and painful desire. A desperate hunger that was raw and open on his face as he looked at you like you were his for the taking.  

 “C’mon, baby,” He purrs, nearing you again, despite your palm going to his chest. As if that’d keep him back for long. You could tell by the look in his eyes, the dark, sharp gleam that he was going to get what he wanted. “I just wanna show you how bad I missed you.” 

And you could feel how bad he’d missed you, the hard line of him now pressing back into your hip as he crowds you again. Your back hits the wall again, his hands already dragging under your clothes to find sensitive, bare skin.

He groans slightly, maybe at how soft you are, maybe because he does just fucking miss you. 

But you’re not done protesting, even if your stomach is twisting in excitement. Even if there’s heat building on the inside of you, making you grip at his broad shoulders slightly. 

“Get off me, Ransom.” You try to snap, but your voice is getting all high and breathy like he loves. You squirm, try to push him off once more. 

He laughs slightly as you manage to wriggle out from beneath him. You dart for the bedroom and if you’d truly not wanted him, you would’ve slammed the door in his face. But you leave it, let him follow after you. 

He shuts the door behind him, then. Strolls in leisurely. 

“You think after months of not speaking, you just get to take what you want?” You ask in the haughty little way that makes his blood sing. It’s more to taunt him, more to test is control. 

You could tell he didn’t have much left. 

“Yes,” He drawls, arrogant, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater. “Now, why don’t you be a good girl and get on the bed for me?” 

You inhale sharp and quietly, your wide eyes staring at him as he wanders closer. The bedroom, though large and luxurious, now feels too small. Like there’s no more oxygen and a single spark would send it up in flames. 

“Make me.” You say, just to watch it all burn.

Within seconds, he’s on you, pushing you back onto the bed where the air leaves your lungs in a taken, guttering breath. His knee comes right up between your legs, his hands back on you and roughing you up. 

You wrestle with him and he laughs again, excited, dark and knowing. “Oh, you wanna fight, huh?” He rumbles, grappling with your wrists. His strength shouldn’t make you all hot-blooded for him, shouldn’t make you want to sink into the silk sheets and let him do whatever he pleases but it does. 

You ache already, in the core of your body. 

He gets your hands down on the bed, pins you with his weight and his strength and his large hands. You arch your back, pull at your wrists to try and free yourself. Cry out when he squeezes harder. 

“Am I gonna have to tie you up?” He says through his teeth, manhandling you, keeping you down with his weight. He releases your hands, but he’s on you, and it’s only so he can loosen his belt and slip it off. 

You’re like a little doll, so easily possessed by him. So easily detained. You squirm and kick uselessly beneath him. The belt is slipped around your wrists, the cool leather tightening as he loops it in such a way that binds your hands together and above your head. 

You’re about to snipe something about how the hell he’s supposed to get your clothes off now, but suddenly he grips the front of your t-shirt and just rips. 

You gasp, mouth popping open in surprise for a moment. 

“Fuck you,” You curse then as he starts pushing the shirt to the side, baring your chest to him, which is clad in a lacy, creme bra. His hands immediately glide over the skin exposed, the soft skin of your chest. 

“Yeah, that’s what I want you to do.” Ransom snarks, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of your bra, digging in like he might—

“Don’t you dare!” You hiss, “This was expensive!” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He tries to wager, pulling at the fabric a little, forcing you to arch up for him. And what a pretty picture you make for him, already all disheveled and roughed up, eyes shining, hands bound on his bed.

“No!” You try not to whine too much but your voice pitches upward as he palms a breast roughly through your bra, watches you with dark, hooded eyes. And thankfully, for whatever reason, he takes mercy on you and only pulls it downward, so your breasts spill from the top.

His fingers are gentler than you thought they’d be as he rolls your nipple slowly. He leans down to consume you in another bruising kiss, mouth hot and demanding, a little slick and open-mouthed. Messy in its roughness. 

His fingers turn into a sudden, stinging pinch and you mewl lightly into his mouth. He swallows it down hungrily. 

And then his lips drag to your neck, leaving you gasping and squirming, his teeth setting to fragile skin, mouth against your pulse. He sucks hard, until it turns into a blooming bruise of pain and heat. 

“Ransom!” You yelp when it becomes too much, but the damage is done and you know there will be dark marks where he wants. You know there will be evidence of him all over your body by the end of this. 

The rest of your clothes are removed in a hurry, tossed aside, thankfully intact. 

He always gets what he wants, it seems. 

It’d make you livid if it also didn’t make you so--

“Oh, princess, you’re so fucking wet.” He nearly purrs, fingers sliding through where you’re silken and petal-soft, velvety and flooded with heat. 

He gets over excited, too desperate for you, only loosens his trousers, pulls himself out. You feel overexposed with his clothes still on, your bare skin littered with evidence of him, open and vulnerable to him. 

He strokes himself, slow, with your slick before positioning himself. You can tell he’s painfully aroused, too impatient, because the smooth head of him glides along where you’re weeping and sensitive. You mewl, try to twist away from him but he grabs your waist with one, strong hand and holds you still for him.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, breathless, watching as he makes another slow pass through your folds. 

He snorts slightly, too fascinated with the feel of you, the way you glisten on him to even look up at your face. “No,” And then, “Aren’t you still on the pill?” 

“Well, yes, but--” 

He presses in a little too easily, just the head, and you gasp sharply at the stretch of him already. But! Your mind frets, but you should still be cautious! But it hasn’t been a full week of your new pack! But, but, but!

“Ransom,” You warn, wishing you could push at his thighs, straining slightly with the belt still holding you together. “Don’t-- unless you have a condom.” You get out. 

“I’ll be careful,” He says flippantly, sliding out slowly and back through your aching folds.

He teases you more, makes you ache something awful. Makes your hips buck up and a whine be pulled from your chest. Gets you all desperate until he glides all the way in, bare, and fitting far too snug inside of you. 

“Ransom!” 

He groans, which falls off into a dark, rumbling laugh at the way you keen and squeeze achingly tight around him despite all your protests. A little velvet vice, and he’s delirious and heady with you, struck breathless at the sensation. 

“But you just feel so fucking good like this,” He gets out, drops his head onto your chest, wraps his arms around you tight. You shouldn’t, but you give in to him, let your head drop back and moan, broken and soft, as he fills you.

He likes to fuck close and intimate like this, deep and dirty and with this violent sort of tenderness for you. He likes to make you lose yourself in the slow, rough push and pull of him, so you can’t do anything but take him and cry doing so. 

Your memory is abruptly cut off when Ransom’s hand comes down on the back of your neck, the heated flashes of images you’d been thinking about burning through you. As if he can sense where your mind has gone, (and maybe he can, maybe he can see it in the way your eyes glow and get all wide-- the same way they do when he says something dirty that you shouldn’t like, but do, the slight soft desperation in them), because he smirks slightly. Hooked and curved and too sharp.   

He quirks a brow, “Let’s make this quick.” He says, “So we can leave and I can push that skirt of yours up and--”

“Behave,” You hush, even if your cheeks are still burning, and you pinch his side for good measure anyways. 

He hisses and swats your hand away before you tip your chin up and stride forward, only for the dogs to come rushing out towards the pair of you. Ransom grows upset, jolting back at their jumping and barking. He hates these dogs, whereas you’re able to press onward, allow Ransom to wallow for a moment. 

He shouts at them, before hurrying after you and into the safety of the arching, dark doorway. 

The party is already in full swing; you’re both late, of course. Ransom wanted to spend as little time as possible here tonight. But upon entering, you’re quickly and eagerly greeted by his mother, who has a drink in hand. 

“Oh! Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise!” She says, perhaps too loudly, but rushes forward to wrap you in a hug. You’re well-liked by most of his family surprisingly, who usually let loose scathing remarks about Ransom not deserving you. 

And you put on a good face for them, try to put on the air of the Harvard princess; you know wealthy people well, even if you haven’t always been the richest. Mundanely middle class for most of your life, but you worked hard to go to Harvard, to play in the big leagues. You know what they like to hear from you and see from you; so you play rich. 

“It’s been far too long!” She continues, pulling away to look at you, and then, “Didn’t think you would’ve stayed with him!” She snarks then, squeezing your arm and you force out a laugh.

You know not to mention you haven’t been with her son. 

“Well, you know Ransom,” You shrug lightly, a dainty, graceful lift of your shoulders,  “He doesn’t like to come around much.” 

“No, the little shit.” She shakes her head, but her smile reappears after a moment, “C’mon, let me get you a drink!” 

And you are led deeper into the house, deeper into the Thrombey’s absurdity and vanity and spiraling greed. 

~ 

 Playing rich is fun for awhile; your diamond bracelet sparkles in the low light and the clothes are expensive and flattering but there’s only so much you can take. You grow tired of putting on your best fake, glittering smile and parading around the big house. 

A moment of reprieve when you speak with Ransom’s grandfather, the man of the hour, Harlan. 

He’s always liked you dearly. Not because you have expensive boots on or because you’re poised and can put on a mask of wealth for an evening, but because you study literature. As an author, he thinks it’s one of the most noble pursuits, one of knowledge found in digging through books, getting lost in the stories only to emerge with concrete ideas and arguments. Larger concepts and critiques of society, a bigger picture that so few seem to grasp and pay attention to. 

So Harlan asks, as he does when he sees you, “What are you reading right now, my dear?” 

And he doesn’t mean what you’re studying, but what you’re enjoying. 

“The Beautiful and Damned.” You tell him and a sudden laugh rumbles from him. 

“A good one to revisit while you’re with my family, surely.” He says, all good natured and warm. 

But the moment is fleeting with everyone vying for his attention, and the evening slinks onward. Petty squabbles are had, more drinks are poured, food taken and eaten and taken. 

While Ransom talks privately with his grandfather, you rest on the couch beside Marta, tucked away in an alcove, reclining leisurely beside the girl you’ve met the past few times at the Thrombey gatherings. She’s lovely and doe-eyed and she smiles very sweetly at you. It’s a little timid and soft and you wonder how her dark lashes might feel against your cheek. 

You offer her wine from your glass, which she declines with a shake of her head. Her smile is earnest and you manage to make her laugh somehow, soft and quiet sighs and giggles that fall from both of your lips. She is slow to open up but now she unfurls before you, petal soft and wonderful and glittering eyed in the softly lit room. 

“You’re my favorite part of the Thrombey’s,” You tell her with a slip of a smile, take another sip of your wine and you think her eyes are following your lips. You feel a flush crawl along your face. 

“Not Ransom?” She asks, because you think she’s wondering. Everyone wonders about you two, about him. No one knows your relationship, no one understands it. They don’t have to, but while you can hear Ransom faintly from the other room begin to raise his voice, you let out a huff of air. Almost a scoff at her question.

“Please,” You say, eyes flickering over to the closed door, where Ransom and Harlan hide behind. “I haven’t been Ransom’s girlfriend in years.” You admit and maybe it’s the wine that makes the words slip from you, drop like precious diamonds from the cave of your mouth. Maybe it’s the honesty of her face, the twinkling empathy in her eyes. She’d be soft, so soft and gentle and--

“I hadn’t even seen him in months until a few days ago, when he asked me to come.” You add, take the last sip of your wine bitterly; it’s turned sour and puckered and dry in your mouth. You set the glass down.

“That’s awful.” Marta says quietly and you don’t realize how close she’s gotten, your thighs touching, almost hip to hip. Your arm is leisurely thrown over the back of the sofa, behind her. 

“Yeah, well,” You say and it comes out breathier than you intend, “That’s Ransom.” 

“Why did you come?” She asks then, not rudely, but genuine. 

You hold up your wrist and your diamond bracelet sparkles in front of her eyes, catches in the darkness there to look like a star. “I got a diamond bracelet if I came.” You say and it’s meaner than you intend it to be, but maybe you’re a little more upset than you thought. Maybe you wanna throw a fit. Maybe you want Marta to comfort you with lips and soothing words. 

Maybe it’s just the wine. 

“That’s not the only reason you came, though.” Marta probes gently, “Is it?” 

Your jaw ticks and your lashes flutter as you turn to face her. “Why else would I?” 

“Because you love him.” She whispers. 

“Love’s a big word, Marta.” You respond, hushed and secretive, and your fingers slip into the hair at the back of her neck. A strand of it slides over your knuckles as you twirl the chocolate lock slowly, silky soft against your skin, “It’s so heavy.” 

She blinks slightly, a rush of pink spreading over her cheeks. “Sometimes.” She whispers, leaning into your touch. 

You wonder if she’d whimper if you pulled her hair, how she’d feel against your throat with teeth and tongue. If she’d cry out all pretty and soft, if she’d give what she gets. 

“It is with Ransom.” You say, but you don’t think it would be with her. It’d be as light as the sigh that escapes her, the little breath that comes from her chest. As light as feathers and silk, snowflakes that swirl in the night sky, petals on the wind. 

A door explodes open, rattles on the hinges, through the whole house. It makes you both jolt away from each other. 

Ransom barrels out. You huff, spring up quickly as you watch him grab his coat and wrench the front door open. 

“I’m sorry,” You tell Marta, “It was nice seeing you.” You say earnestly and then move to follow, to find your coat, and hurry out the door and into the chill of the night. 

“What the fuck?” You shout to Ransom as you slam the front door shut behind you. 

His eyes flash dangerously in the darkness, “Get in the fucking car.” He says, “We’re leaving.” And he slides into the front seat and slams the car door just as hard. 

He’s in a mood, then. 

You hustle over, slip into the passenger side and he peels out of the driveway and down the dirt path.

He’s eerily quiet. Uncharacteristically so. The growl of the car fills the silence with rumbling, with an unsettled sound that rattles through you.

You don’t dare break the quiet first. 

And the quiet stretches and stretches, stretches thin until it breaks--

“I forgot something.” He says suddenly, jerking the car to the right, pulling off the road. 

“What’d you forget?” You ask, browns furrowing. He doesn’t answer you, though, only stops the car, kills the engine. He stares in silence for a moment, as if he’s making a decision. You can feel your heart in your chest, the steady thrumming that skips when he raises his eyes in the darkness. The red light of his dash casts him in crimson, in unnatural white light. 

The whole world feels at a stand-still, on a teetering precipice.  

“I’ll be back.” He says and he leaves you, slides out of the car and into the night. Your stomach sinks for some reason, the plummet catching you off guard. 

So you wait for him, alone, as a decision that changes everything is made.

***

Ransom is quiet still, pensive, when you both return to his apartment. After all that anger, you thought maybe he’d take it out on you. You’d both yell and scream and then end up making up on the kitchen countertops, furiously trying to rip away clothes and egos and pain.

But he’s uncharacteristically gentle with you as he lays you out on his sheets. Silver light from the moon, the faint stars, cut across the bed like a knife. Slices over his face in a diagonal, one half eclipsed, and the other luminous and sterling silver. 

He gets rid of your clothes with reverence, looks over you with hunger and thinly veiled tenderness. A violent sort of need that makes him seem wolfish, even in his gentleness. He covers you, enfolds you in shadow and the curling strength of his arms. 

He slides down your body, parts your legs and rolls the warmth of his tongue against where you’re most vulnerable and soft. He flutters his eyes up to you, threads his fingers through yours so you have something to hold onto.

He doesn’t stop until you’re crying, arching off his sheets, twisting and turning and tormented. Until tears slide from the corners of your eyes and you’re aching and open and then he gathers you in his arms, nudges his waist into the crook of your own and fits himself in the depth of you.

You gasp, open mouthed, as he finds home. His own groan blooming from the pit of his chest and out against the hollow of your throat. His hands are bruising, gripped too tight, but you don’t even care, not as you toss your head back, let it fall against his pillow. 

The way he looks at you is somewhere between desperation and viciousness. He wants to possess you, he wants to make you delirious with him. Maybe because you’ve made him as mad with you. He wants to infect you the way you’ve infected him.

He wants to belong, he wants to keep you forever. He wants to give you everything, and you think maybe he says so. Maybe he gets it out into the crook of your neck, maybe he presses it into your skin besides all the marks he gave you. His, his, his. 

He curls around you afterward, slides his hands over your vulnerable belly, the skin soft beneath his broad palms. 

“Let’s leave and never return.” Ransom says and you blink, bleary and sleepy, glance at him with a flutter of your lashes. 

“Where would we go?” You murmur, carding your hands through his hair. 

“Paris, maybe.” He rumbles into your skin, fingers creating a strange, swirling pattern on your stomach. 

“You can read and study and write.” He says and for some reason, your heart squeezes painfully. For some reason, you’re still foolish to imagine it. Sitting pretty in a cafe, a worn book in your hands, glasses of wine between the two of you. He’d look stylish and handsome against a violet rose sunset. 

“And what would you do?” You ask softly, a whisper.  

“Anything I wanted.” 

Quietness falls upon you both again, slow and heavy. He fingers the skin of your stomach, slides over it in strange rhythms only he knows. You’re nearly on the brink of sleep when he turns his face up to you, totally shadowed now, and says;

“I have to tell you something, baby.” 

And you can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the beginning of the end.    

***

He’d said it was his hour of need and you’re smart so you listen and you absorb. You’re appalled and you’re a little shocked but you-- 

You keep your head on straight. Ransom starts to unravel. 

The moment it’s discovered that his grandfather apparently comitted suicide, he starts to slip into a dangerous edge. He starts ranting and raving and then he’ll go deadly silent and then he’ll become prickly and hot. You are cool and collected. 

You are waiting for your time to strike. 

A detective is hired by Ransom in an attempt to win it all; and you are careful, walk the tightrope slow and steady. You keep him sane and dull the sharp part of him. 

And then, the way a ribbon is pulled apart, Marta slips right into Ransom’s jaws. His plan didn’t work; Marta didn’t kill his grandfather. Ransom technically didn’t, either. 

You think, maybe, it could’ve been put to rest here. You think maybe he could've walked away. But Ransom never half does anything, doesn’t ever not finish the job. He spirals. 

You wait for a time to strike.    

***

Your time is quick and fleeting and you remember piece of a conversation, a snippet of information that could change everything. 

You speak with Fran on the outskirts of the family as they discuss heavier matters. She chatters a lot, on and on about just about anything. And you carefully weave the conversation, guide it slowly but surely towards this one factor;

“You have a friend that does toxicology, don’t you?” 

She nods enthusiastically, tells you about what he does, how interesting it is. How long she’s known him. You gaze at the family, at the way they try to be hush and talk and end up bickering. Fran’s voice comes in and out, the world turning slow. 

Another argument breaks out. Voices raising, cutting over each other. Ruthless. And poor Marta who has to deal with them all, whose only in this position because--

You glance at Ransom, watch his handsome face screw up into a mocking smile as he speaks with his relatives. Smug, greedy, too arrogant. You think about what he said; running away to Paris. To Rome or anywhere in the world. You wonder if you could’ve been happy with him-- dream about a life never lived. A path never taken. 

Because later, when Ransom tells you to keep watch so he can slip the antidote back in Marta’s bag, you step away. You hide in the bathroom, peak through the crack in the door, breathe slow and quiet as you watch Fran catch Ransom in the act.

Watch as it all comes crashing down; a domino effect that will slide into place now. You watch as you tip the first scale, as you set the life you could’ve had with Ransom up in flames. Fran disappears, obviously upset and reeling with what she’s discovered. 

You emerge once more, greet Ransom with a kiss on the cheek. 

A Judas kiss, betrayal placed softly upon his skin. 

You force yourself to look into his eyes, so he doesn’t suspect a thing. You smile at him, the kind of smile that makes him kiss you. Hard and quick and furious. He calls you his Bonnie, says so against your lips. 

You laugh and hope it doesn’t come out as tumbling and mad as it sounds to your ears. 

 ***

When all is said and done, Ransom ends up behind bars, just as you knew he would. Just as he should be. He thinks you had nothing to do with it, he thinks you’re gonna help him out of this one, too, somehow. 

So you visit him in prison, dressed in Chanel and fur and the Cartier white-gold bracelet that flashes so prettily. Your heels click against the cold, tile ground as your approach the stall to speak with him. He sits behind the glass in an orange jumpsuit, garring and horrible. It’s unzipped slightly, showing his broad, muscled chest, rolled up at the elbows. A far cry from his lavish coats and scarves and sweaters. 

His eyes glint when they see you, a tilting of his head that is arrogant and predatory. His smile is hooked when he sees you. 

With all of your grace, you glide to him, take a seat in front of him. In front of the glass. You both stare at each other a moment, his eyes always so hungry and wolfish. Heat flares slowly inside of you, an inkling of torment from hell, from the devil before you. 

Slowly, with measured ease, he picks up the phone to speak with you. 

You reach for it, too, your eyes still on him. 

“Hello, princess.” He rumbles into the phone. 

“Hello, Ransom.” You say almost hushed. 

“I miss you,” He says with his curling smile, a flash of sharp teeth. You think of them at your neck, on your pulse that beats rapidly. 

“When I get out of here, let’s leave.” He then says, soft and murmured, “Let’s leave and never look back. I’ll take you wherever you want.” 

You hum on that, look over him slowly, and you think that seeing him here, in the jumpsuit, behind the glaring glass, leaves your dreams of Paris dashed and destroyed. The idea of loving him, sitting on that balcony with a book in your hands and his hand on your thigh as you watch the city fall into dusk shatters right in front of you. You can put it to rest once and for all, dig a grave inside the pit of your chest and bury it. 

“I don’t think you’ll get out for a long time, I’m afraid.” You tell him finally. 

His eyes darken, brows furrowing, “What are you talking about? I’ll get the best lawyers, you’ll help me--”

“I won’t.” You say, finding his eyes, shaking your head the slightest amount. 

His eyebrows shoot up, his face becoming cold and hard and outraged, “You won’t?” He asks, and then, “Thought you were my Bonnie?” His jaw ticks in anger, in pain that bubbles up inside of him, “You know I could get you here on assisted murder. I protected you. You knew everything--” 

“Oh, Ransom,” You say, a slight sigh, pitying and soft. And now it’s your turn to be sharp-smiled, a slip of fox’s wit, “Who do you think led Fran to look into the toxicology reports?” You ask lightly. 

He blinks, his mouth suddenly falling open. 

“How do you think she caught you replacing the antidote to Marta’s bag?” You ask him, tilting your head, the look in your eyes cunning and quick and burning. 

He stares in disbelief. 

“I know I’m psycho,” You sigh, lift your finger to the glass, draw a swirling pattern as if you’re stroking his face. All that you feel is the cold, clear glass. “But you didn’t think I’d let you get away with this, did you?”

He sits back in shock, staring at you. And then a laugh bursts from him, rough and hard and he looks at you with awe, with a wild sort of amazement. 

“Backstabbing, rotten bitch.” He says, but it’s with fondness. Like he can’t believe someone bested him, like he can’t believe you could be so cutthroat or ruthless, “You really were made for me, weren’t you?” 

He looks at you like he wants to take you up against the glass in front of everyone, like he wants to punish you and praise you and love you so violently that you can’t see or feel anything but him. 

But there is no rough love making, there is nothing but the glass between you and the triumph and the ache inside your ribs. 

“It seems so.” You say and you let your hand fall away from the glass, your diamond bracelet clinking lightly. You take a last look at him, sear him into your memory like this, looking at you like you’re both the best and worst thing the world could ever give him.

“Goodbye, darling.” You purr, even if your heart is burning, even if your breath is tight. And then you hang up the phone and rise, graceful and elegant as ever. 

You can hear his laughter, feel the way his eyes try to keep you here, brand you and scorch you. 

You walk out with your head high, a too-clever grin touching the corner of your lips and a weight off of your shoulders, but a sinking feeling in your stomach.

You’ll miss him, you think, even if all the world knows you shouldn’t. 

[shotgunbunny]

Love's a Vicious Killer

WC: over 2k. GIF by steverogersnotebook

Warnings [ dark ransom/ murderous thoughts/ noncon!/dubcon/ forced breeding/ just ransom himself/smut/toxic ass shit]

It was always cold after classes but today it was much colder and impacted you heavily. Maybe it was the short dress you had on or the lack of a jumper. All you knew was that you were freezing and that your Uber was taking forever to pick you up after you finished University today. You were offered loads of lifts by your friends yet you denied them not wanting to burden them or ruin your routine. So you decided to sit on the bench.

Not any bench. The bench next to Ransom Drysdale. Apparently he was just a rich asshole but you thought he was just a funny, snarky guy. He never spoke bad about you, the only time he did, you were walking past and heard him saying:

"Yeah she's little miss sunshine. Has the whole school up her ass. A little dumb too but that's why everyone loves her I guess."

After hearing that you walked past with a smile knowing that even one of the meanest people thought you were bright and happy. Which is why you sat next to him.

"Hi Ransom!"

He looked to you bored and rolled his eyes. And looked back to the side giving you a chance to admire him. His hair always looked so fluffy and he had the prettiest blue eyes. You saw he was wearing his big brown coat and his white sweater and then you were reminded of your own coldness.

"H-how come you're sat here?"

You chattered through the shiver you were trying to hold back. He looked at you and took note of the short dress and your bare legs. He let out a sigh, his breath was visible in the air noting him of how cold it was explaining further to your shivering.

"My mum's late to picking me up princess because my car broke down. What about you? You just here to try and brighten my day up, huh?"

"I'm waiting for my Uber, but I don't wanna wait alone, and I thought you'd be good company."

Ransom scanned the grounds surrounding you, and saw your class partner also waiting, leaving him to raise his eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, then why aren't you with Jeremy? Surely he can deal with your sickening optimism better than me."

You giggle at that, the melody making Ransoms heart beat faster making him furrow his brow,

"Jeremy is super sweet but he's like a cinnamons bun, too much and you get sick. Don't tell him I said that though!"

Ransom let out a chuckle over the idea that one of the sweetest people can't stand being around other sweet people.

"So what princess, you wanna sit here and talk shit about people with the biggest asshole on campus?"

You turned to him and left him mesmerized with how pretty your eyes were, how full your lips were and how truly beautiful you were.

"Absolutely! I don't think you're an a-asshole though."

Ransom suddenly remembered how cold it was and stood up. He grabbed your arm gently and pulled you up. He took note of how big his arm was compared to your body. He took his coat off and put it on you. He smirked at how it truly drowned you. You looked up at him with your doe eyes and smiled at him.

"Thanks Ransom. See you're not an asshole."

"I'm not an asshole to you Princess."

"How come?"

"Are you saying you want me to be an asshole to you Princess?"

"N-no just curious."

Ransom sighs and sat back down on the bench and dragged you with him so you were sat on his lap. He looked at you and smiled tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You don't remember do you?"

"R-remember what?"

Ransom smiled again:

"You were the first person to be nice to me on my first day on university. Infact you showed me around."

You remembered then.

Instead of him being cocky and smug back then, he was slightly timid and the entire time you showed him round you were talking about writing. He was telling you how he was to inherit a writing company and you telling him you struggle with it but you adore reading. When you finally finished the chore, he gave you a book by his grandfather. Claiming that the book he gave you was his style of writing.

Grinning at Ransom you reached into your bag and pulled the worn out book.

'Love's a Vicious Killer'

"So you do remember Princess?"

You giggled and hugged him. He was taken aback but happily returned the hug. Anything to have you close.

"You still wanna talk shit Princess?"

"Definitely. Did you hear that Derick is thinking of proposing to Jane! They're so young and they've only dated a month."

Ransom let out a hearty chuckle and looked at you with a lopsided smirk.

"I'd marry you in less than a month Princess. Don't get in the way of others happiness or karma will get ya."

You blushed and looked away. He was right you were being judgemental. And now your head was swirling with fantasies of you and Ransom married.

"If we were married you'd have to accept the fact that we're living in a cute little house."

"Little? Oh no Princess we're going to have a big family, can't have a small house."

"What? How many kids are we expecting to have Ranny?"

"At least five. I need to see you constantly full Princess so then everyone knows that the asshole got the sunshine."

You giggled at him and looked at your phone and sighed. Your Uber was gonna be another half an hour. Ransom saw this too and decided he wasn't done talking about your future.

"Why don't you get a lift back with me Princess? I promise you, my mum will love you more than me."

You looked at him hesitantly. You took a thought and decided that you should. Ransom rarely talked to anyone, it was nice that he was talking to you. So with a smile you agreed.

"Sure, but only if you agree that I get to name all our sons!"

"Absolutely princess. You can name them all, you're going through birth. I think it's your right."

You giggled with him.

"Cmon princess this is us. Let's go"

Ever since that car ride home from Ransom and his mum, you've been inseparable. He was right his mum adored you, infact she loved you so much she invited you to dinner every Sunday. And ofcourse you accepted because you truly adored his mum, she was smart and strong and always complimented how amazing your cookies tasted.

Which reminded you to take the cookies out of your bag so you can give them to Ransom. As you leaves class you see him stood opposite, waiting patiently against the wall. When he looks up at the noise and sees you and smiles which you return.

"Hi princess, how was class?"

"It was supa good Ranny. Also I have cookies but they're for this Sunday as an apology that I won't be there!"

It was like the world stopped. Why would you not be there, it left Ransom infuriated. You can't just skip one of the meals. It's mandatory now the you were his girlfriend even if you weren't aware of it.

"Why won't you be there sugar?"

"Oh because I have a date with Jeremy!"

Ransom could have snapped Jeremy's neck right there and the fucked you hard against the wall right over his dead body. He was radiating pure anger. How dare you choose another man over him! How dare you choose Jeremy, a guy you claimed was too sweet over him! Ransom swallowed his murderous thoughts and shaped them into a fake smile.

"I thought you didn't like him Princess?"

"Well, he got me flowers and said he adored working with me! I was stunned but it was so sweet I loved it!"

Ransom let out a laugh while trying to hold back his rage. So there wasn't anything too sweet for you, huh? Well too late Princess now you have to deal with the sour taste of Ransom.

"Well ain't that cute, just know though Princess you're missing out on going on a date with me."

You giggled at Ransom, completely oblivious to his jealousy. You had thought about you and Ransom alot but he never made a move so you decided to move on before you got hurt by him.

"Like you'd ever ask me Ranny! If you did maybe it'd be us going to the cinemas instead of me and Jeremy!"

Ransom was done. He missed his chance and now someone was going to have to pay, and he knew who. He was going to have you no matter what. For now though he'll enjoy the rest of the day with you and make sure to get all the details out of you about Jeremy. Including where he lives.

It was a day before the news spread about Jeremy breaking his legs and Sunshines heart. But luckily Ransom was there to hide his fingerprints from the crime scene and there to fix your heart.

You laid on his couch crying over how stupid you could have been to trust him. Jeremy wasn't sweet, he was sour and bitter.

"C'mon Princess come here"

You got up and sat on Ransoms lap snuggling into him. Ransom laced his hand under your chin and made you look at him before he enchanted you with his softly spoken words;

"You didn't need him Princess. You need someone who can hold you, spoil you and someone who's family adores you. I hate to say it but I'm the winner. And I promise you this princess, I will protect you, I'll keep you warm. Anything you want, you have. Just be mine. Be mine and you'll see how amazing life truly can be at my side."

Before you could agree Ransoms strong hand slithered up to your cheek and then behind your head where he pulled you to him and kissed you. His lips were soft and they fit yours so perfectly. You pulled away for breath. Looking into his blue eyes so intently.

You repositioned yourself so you were straddling his lap, before you closed the distance again and kisses him. You felt his tongue gently nudge your mouth open. He was so dominating even through a kiss you could tell he was in control and he was holding back. When you pulled away for air. You looked at him desperately you whispered gently against his lips.

"I'm all yours Ransom. All yours. Need you so bad."

And like that every ounce of control Ransom had slipped through the cracks and he knew that he had you.

He flipped you over so that you back was against the couch and Ransom was on top of you.

He looked down at you hungrily and looked back up at you before kissing you desperately. You could feel your souls intertwining through the passion of the kiss. All the while Ransoms wandering hands were pulling his top off and unbuckling his belt. You giggled at how rushed you both were.

When you were finally free from clothes and was left vulnerable to Ransoms stare you felt insecure, what if he didn't like how you looked? That thought was shortly cut off by Ransoms though,

"Fuck you're a fucking model. What the fuck your body is so fucking beautiful."

Before you could even return the compliment or even blush, Ransom was back on top of you and was kissing down your neck. Ensuring that you were covered in his marks. He leaned down to the valley of your breasts before he turned to your left breast and took the nipple into his mouth. Coating it in his spit, his tongue circling it happily. His other hand was toying with your nipple making you wetter by the second. When he pulled a way you moaned in disappointment before he tapped your pussy in warning for being so impatient.

"Fuck you're so sweet baby, can't wait for these to fill with milk. Fucking pretty tits. Hiding these from me the entire time and now I'm playing with them you're moaning like a little whore."

You whined as his fingers leaned down and dipped into wet hole. He let out a groan,

"So warm and wet, and so fucking tight. Better than my fist ever will be. Gonna ruin your little fucking hole."

He travelled down so his face was positioned infront of your pussy before you could even say anything. He licked a long strip up your pussy enjoying how you shivered. He smiled before he suckled on your clit while his fingers dove into you, immediately finding that spot that made you toes curl in your little pussy.

"Fucking little baby pussy you have. You're gonna cum so fast aren't you, you gonna let me taste it? You gonna let daddy taste your sweet cum, Princess?"

His constant licks and pushes of his fingers matched with his dirty tongue took you overboard before you came all over his fingers and tongue. Allowing him to taste you cum as he practically begged.

"Sweet. Fuckin knew it. All the candy you eat goes straight to your cunt."

As you were coming down from your high, you looked down and saw Ransoms cock. The pink head was dribbling in precum and all you could think was how would it fit. He was so big and wide. Surely it would hurt. Your thoughts were cut off once again as he plunged the head of his cock into your tight little pussy.

"H-Hugh! It hurts please take it out!"

"Fuck so fucking tight. Stupid little whore calling me Hugh. My name's Ransom or Daddy to you."

"Take it out daddy please!"

"Fuck you're just so tight I can't baby. You asked for this, you wanted this baby. Remember when we were talking about the future. 5 kids, you're gonna be pregnant with our first by the end of tonight."

Just as you were about to deny him, he sunk his entire length into you. Stealing the words from you and replacing them with a groan of ecstasy from his own lips. You felt tears spring in your eyes. You felt like a rabbit trapped by the wolf. You fell for Ransoms tricks and now you were paying the price.

He slowly pulled out leaving just the tip in before repeating the action ensuring each thrust was accompanied by the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your flesh. He reached his hand down and started playing with your clit. Making you feel pleasure from being stuffed with Ransoms cock.

As he set a pace and started pounding you, he leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth again, licking and sucking it. Making you arch your back and push your tits into his face more. He pulled back and smirked while letting out groans. He was admiring how beautiful you were stuffed with his cock, your tits bouncing and your eyes in the back of your head.

"Fucking look at you. Perfect Little cock whore. I was right to choose you. Knew from the day I met you this pussy would be worth it. That you would be worth. Fucking accepting that book from me, didn't even know it had a listening device in it. Had to listen to you playing with my pretty pussy for years. Know everything about you Princess. You're fucking mine!"

You could feel yourself draw closer to the edge, Ransom could feel it too so he leaned down and kissed you taking all the pathetic moans out of your mouth and swallowing them down with his delicious grunts. As Ransoms pace increased you came marking his cock as yours. The sudden tightness of your pussy made his thrusts stutter and his eyes roll back before he came inside you and marked you as his equally.

You laid there for a while both catching your breaths. As you looked down you saw something shiny on your hand. You brought it up to your face a saw a ring on it. More specifically you left hand, on your ring finger. Ransom grabbed your hand and kissed it.

"Your mine princess. Since day one. You can't escape me. But I promise if you stay by my side, anything you want will be yours. Just be my good girl and life will reward you."