#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

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback Starts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir!” you replied quickly.

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

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

You had made your decision to leave everything behind.

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

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

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

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

Then everything changed after Harlan died.

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

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

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

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

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

Even a wolf would accept a dog into its pack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback End

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, there was a knock on the door.

'Knock. Knock.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[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.

[shotgunbunny]

“But daddy I love him.” with crybaby! reader aka defending Ransom to your father and the soft kisses and sex afterwords and him saying how proud he is of you. Maybe he also makes you cry more bc he just loves your tears.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

WC:2k+ GIF by forchrisevans

I love love love this sm! I'm making this a dark ransom Au where he's a writer that's supa rich <3 A/n: I literally felt so bad for the dad in this fic why did I make the dad so sad man.

(Warnings!! Dark!Ransom!! Mentions of murder!! Smut!! Soft! Ransom!! tiny bit of angst!! Dirty talk!!)

You were excited for tonight. You were finally introducing you boyfriend to you parents. You weren't nervous as Ransoms cocky ways and charming nature eased your fears. He always had a way with words, maybe that's why he became a writer. You had tried to read one of his book before he pried it from your hands and began talking about how you wouldn't like the book, and because you loved him you trusted him.

You were absolutely oblivious to the fact that every book he wrote was centred around you. He wrote story after story about how after follow the woman of his dreams he finally had her and now he had to kill anyone who stood in his way. Half of his fans loved the books and the other half was terrified of Ransom and researching that all his girlfriends guy friends had died.

You sighed and stretched your limbs out on the king sized bed at Ransoms house. You turned and laid on him, drawing lazy flower patterns onto his chest. He looked at you softly, soaking in the attention you were offering him. "Ran?" He let out a deep hum before he brought his hand up to card through your hair. "Are you nervous for tonight?" He looked down at you and flashed you his winning smile.

"Not one bit baby, everyone loves me. Luckily you're the only one that has my love in return." And if they didn't love him, he'd set up there death as a car accident and sweep you off your feet into his house. He was ready with so many options so he wasn't nervous or scared. Instead he was curious to see what your parents reaction would be.

"Come on flower we best get up and get ready." You shook your head and settled firmly on top of Ransom. He chuckled at you and sat up. You clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. He slid his strong arm under your ass and stood up looking down at you and kissing your nose softly. "Hmm I thought you were my flower but you're actually just my koala." You giggled and stretched your legs out. He placed you down gently, kissing you sweetly one last time.

Ransom headed towards his walk in wardrobe and pulled out the famous white cable knit sweater. He looked kinder in this, more homely. Soft as you'd say. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. He pulled his pants on and you pulled on your little black dress that Ransom adored. It wasn't too short, it was just right. He stared at you doped up on his love for you before he attacked your face with kisses.

You felt so safe in Ransoms arms while he rained kisses all over you. And just like that all your potential worries disappeared into the night.

Ransom pulled up into the large gravel drive way and flashed you a smirk. He was used to snobby driveways, after all he stemmed from a rich family. You both got out and Ransom tutted at you mumbling about how he wanted to open you door for you like a gentleman. You both closed your doors and Ransom hurried over to you, holding your hand as you began walking to the front door.

You pressed the door bell and it was immediately opened by your mother rather than one of the house cleaners. You smiled at her and you beamed at you, and the glanced at Ransom. "Come in both of you! Dinner has just finished being made!" She rushed off and you looked at Ransom. He looked down at you and pulled your hand which was interlocked with his, up to his face where he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.

You both took your shoes and coats off and you led him to the dinning room. Your mum was hurrying around playing plates down all the while your father sat still until he moved his head and stared at Ransom. Beside your dad was one of Ransoms book. You were so happy your dad had read some of Ransoms works, surely he'd like him.

Whilst in Ransoms mind he knew he was completely and utterly fucked. The look in your fathers eyes and the glimpse of the folded pages in the book proved that he knew that Ransom was not everything he seemed. Ransom could feel his heart hurt a small bit, he knew that when the 'accident' happens you're gonna weep your little heart out and it will be all because of him. And for a split second, Ransom wished that there was another way instead of that but there wasn't. So he swallowed down the heart ache he'll suffer and sat down at the table.

Your father stared at him while your mother and you chirped happily about you day. You began digging into you meal as did you mum, both of you still nattering oblivious to the staring match between your dad and Ransom. He flashed him a gentle smile, a peace treaty almost, and began digging into the meal. "This is absolutely amazing Ma'am." Your mum blushed and thanked him.

As you were all dining your dad finally spoke, still staring at the sick bastard in front of him. "Hey honey, have you ever read any of Ransoms works?" You looked up and blinked noting the angry look burried in his eyes. "No, they're not my kinda thing." You turned to look at Ransom and flashed him a smile which he returned.

"Well you should honey. There's this one character in here that's exactly like your old friend. And he died the exact same way as he did." You dropped you fork and stared at your dad. Shocked that he would ever bring that up let alone try and claim Ransom had something to do with it. "Why would you say that?" Your dad turned his harsh glare towards you.

"I know you're not the brightest honey, but he's a goddamn sociopath! He's insane! I don't want you seeing him anymore!" You stood up shocked by your dad's behaviour, Ransom stood up too and left the room, he began getting his shoes and coat on when he heard your cries. He peaked around the corner and saw tears streaming down your face. "But daddy I love him! He would never hurt me! And he knows that if he hurt anyone I loved, it would hurt me! So how can you even suggest that!"

Ransom felt his heart hurt, he remembered holding you everynight while you were grieving your friends. God knows how much it would hurt when you had to grieve your parents. God he would do anything to avoid that outcome. "How stupid are you?! He's a murderer! He killed your friends claiming it was a sick and twisted version of love!"

You swallowed down a sob and bit back at him for these insane accusations. "I never want to see you again! You won't get an invite to our wedding or meet your first grandchild! Not until you apologize to the man I love!" You dad scoffed, tears in his eyes yet he was holding back. You mother was openly weeping. The pause lasted too long cementing your choice in choosing Ransom. You walked out and bumped into him. He hugged you and you got ready and left.

The second you were in the bedroom, Ransom was kissing you, softly sweetly. Every part of him was gently. Even as you began undressing each other, he treated you delicately. Not wanting to illicit tears, not yet. Because they'd be sad tears, not tears of ecstacy.

He kissed along your legs, allowing his hands to gently trail up your thighs before they splayed out on your hips. He moved his head up, and blowed along your wetness. Adoring the little flutter of your hips and the breathy moan that escaped your pretty mouth. He licked gently, slowly. Torturing you yet he was appreciating your taste, trying to put it into words. He went back for a second taste before he centred on your clit, he moved his hands then. Dragging one down towards your hole with a feather light tight before he plunged one finger in and then another. His other hand trailed up taking a breast in his hand.

He looked up and saw the beauty that was you, your head tilted back while moans escaped you like a desperate song. He flicked your nipple before he began gently circling it with his thick digit. While you were preoccupied with the stimulation of your nipple, Ransom plunged another finger into you before he pulled away completely.

He felt the need to be even more submerged in this moment of pleasure with you. He leaned down and captured your lips in his. Holding you close towards his body. You felt him move his tip up and down your slit, you could feel his precum mix with your own wetness. He stopped and places his cock against your hole. He stared down at you as if you were the world itself. "I love you so much." And with that he applied pressure and his cock slipped in with a pop. He slowly pushed down until he was fully settled in you.

You caught your breath after Ransom knocked it out of you by entering you. You stared at him and pressed you lips together, completely enthralled by him. By his declaration of love. He slowly began thrusting and pulled away, allowing for your shallow breathing to sink. "My angel, you did so good for me. Defended my name. Defended me. God you are worth every ounce of my love and more. Fucking perfect tight pussy. Was made for me by the Gods." You felt tears gather in your eyes at his words. He began thrusting faster.

His slid his hand down and began to circle your clit, watching with pride blooming in his chest as your tears slide down your face. You were embracing the ultimate pleasure of his cock and the result was something so beautiful that he couldn't even fathom how you weren't worshipped. He leaned down and licked your tears before pressing his forehead to yours and watching more tears stream down your face.

"Fuck you're so good to me baby, so fucking good. This pussy treats me so well too. Fucking grips my cock so well. Would worship this cunt, would worship you. So good baby."

He couldn't help it he took his hand away from your button and instead wrapped it around you throat, fucking you with vigor over the sight before him. Tears streaming down your face, his hand tight around your throat and your breasts bouncing. "Fuck! My little crybaby, you look perfect like this. Need this in a picture. Fucking beautiful. You deserve to be fucked like this baby." He leaned down and licked the tears off your face all the while holding your throat tighter making your face slowly bloom red over the lack of air flow. "Fuck it looks like you're crying diamonds. I'll get you a diamond, get you one for your dainty finger." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Before he pulled away and squeezed tight on your throat and began pounding you so fast that it took only 5 thrusts before you convulsed on his cock and bucked you body up desperate to be free from his hands yet also enraptured in your orgasm. Ransom came seconds after. The tightness of your cunt and the beauty of you was enough to push him past his limit. His hips stuttered and he came, some of it inside you before he pulled out and coated you in it. He pulled his hand off your throat, embracing truly how amazing you were.

You laid catching your breath just barely recognising Ransom getting you water and a towel to clean you up. After that was all done he got in bed and you cuddled with him. Your head on his chest while his arm held you protectively. "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you." You batted your eyelashes at him, utterly soft for his praise. "I did?" He smiled and kissed your forehead. "Absolutely my love, I'm so happy baby because of you. I'm gonna put a ring on you, that's how proud I am of you." You giggled and cuddled closer into him. "We'll see bear." And with that you fell into a peaceful sleep.

Ransom grabbed his phone and cancellation off the plan of the 'accident'. Instead he would wait for your dad to crack under the pressure. Especially when everyone else in the family got a wedding invite except him. Ransom was happy truly, there would be no more blood on his hands and now he could focus purely on you.

[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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[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​

[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!

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

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!

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[krirebr]

More Than This 2

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

Word Count: ~6.1k

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

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap. 

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

 The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left. 

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but. 

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be. 

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you. 

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment. 

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream. 

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. 

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed. 

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

 You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all. 

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell. 

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

   The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle. 

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary. 

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day. 

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. 

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.” 

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do. 

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun. 

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables. 

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server. 

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne. 

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.” 

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end. 

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course. 

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated. 

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.” 

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least. 

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes. 

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night. 

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come. 

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @citronbun @ladyvenera @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle

[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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[chrisevansispapi]

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.

[shotgunbunny]

I want ransom to use my throat like a flesh light 🤤🤤

༻𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲༺

{warnings!! toxic family!!face fucking!! ransom being a presumptuous bitch!! everyone being assholes.}

You and Ransom had been dating for a year now, and although there were tough times due to your bratty personalities clashing, it was often beautiful. He bathed you in his love and his hidden softness and kept you safe under his arm at parties filled with chaos. And you inturn drowned him in your love and kisses that you peppered all over his face to grant him comfort and remind him that you adored him.

You remember when you first met, you were at a party filled with rich assholes and you were wasted. You were laid on the bathroom floor crying, the alcohol in your system conjuring memories of your ex boyfriend cheating on you 2 days ago. You sat on and leaned against the tub and continued crying, suddenly the door opened and there stood the devil looking beautiful as always.

Ransom stared at you for a moment before sighing and locking the bathroom door. He recognised you from university. The sweetheart everyone adored, you once gave him a cookie for him standing up for you against the frat boys that called you a dumb whore. The cookie was delicious he won't even deny it. Which led him to wondering why a pretty little thing like you, that made the sweetest things, crying?

Hushed murmurs bounced around the bathroom and eventually Ransom took you to his house and took care of you. The second you were asleep he went to your ex boyfriends house and beat him bloody. But you never knew that.

From that moment you both grew closer until you grew tired and began getting moody with him for not making the first move, he rolled his eyes and asked you out. And now you were here meeting his family for Thanksgiving, this wasn't the first time you'd met them, but past meeting with them only lasted 10 minutes before they stared getting snarky and mean and Ransom stormed away with you beside him.

You were not looking forward to this dinner, the only people that liked you were Harlan and Ransoms mum. You tried to befriend Meg yet she thought if you could date Ransom for so long, you must be exactly like him. You liked Linda, she treated you with respect and was always kind as she thought that you had changed Ransom.

You were sat next to Ransom and Linda at dinner, bringing you comfort that you weren't that alone. Walt cleared his throat and stared at you, "So the gold-digger brought his silver-digging slut." Ransom smirked, "Yeah I did, no need to be jealous that my girl is hotter than yours will ever be, shriveled dick." The entire room errupted into chaos. You couldn't stand it and decided to bite back at the next issult thrown at you.

Joni was the one that decided to start the fire with you, "You're so obviously with Ransom for the money, you'd never fit into the family." You rolled your eyes at her, "I'm actually only with Ransom for his big cock, I can't wait to take his last name to spite you, bitch." Ransom went quite next to you.

He was ecstatic that you loved his cock, but the last comment got him. It was like you knew he was going to propose. Even Linda froze up knowing of Ransoms plan to propose after dinner. The whole time Harlan sat there, listening to the insanity that was his family until he finally shouted, "Enough! Stop this nonsense!" Ransom pulled his chair out and tugged you with him.

He tugged you upstairs into his old room and pushed you onto the bed. You stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed together as you watched him pace. You were confused by his actions. "When did you find out?" Your confusion grew, why was Ransom acting so strange. "What?" He growled and turned to you anger and rage flashing in his eyes. "You fuckin' heard me." You stood up and glared back at him. "I don't know what you're talking about so drop the attitude."

"Get on your knees. Now." His dominance was driving you crazy and you dropped to your knees. He unzipped his pants and you pulled them down and then his boxers. You eyes widened as his cock bobbed out of his pants. It looked like he had been hard for a while due to how much precum was coating the tip of his cock. Before you could even speak he grabbed your hair and made it into a make shift ponytail with his fist.

He stared down at you, and you opened your mouth. He immediately pushed your head all the way down. Your nose burried in his pubes. You gagged around his cock and his groaned, the sound creating a beautiful symphony for your ears. You slurped your salvia down and sucked on Ransoms cock. He closed his eyes and started thrusting in your mouth speaking harshly down at you.

"Gotta fuckin' fill your mouth to stop your fuckin' lies." He continued fucking your throat, groaning everytime there was a small gag. The tightness of your throat almost hugged his cock as good as your cunt. You stared up at him confused and pleading for him to tell you what he did wrong. He looked down at you and spat on your face, glaring at you.

"You fuckin' looked in my night stand didn't you. Saw the fuckin' ring and knew I was gonna pop the question." Your eyes watered both from Ransom face fucking you and the fact he was going to propose. He groaned looking at your face. Tears streaming down it and spit everywhere. You moaned around his cock trying to deny the fact you'd seen the ring, but the vibrations were perfect around the tip of his cock and he came down your throat.

He watched as you drank down his cum, keeping his cock comfortable in your throat until it was soft. He pulled it out and tucked his cock in his boxers and the pants. You looked up at him and spoke with a horse voice, "You were gonna propose?" He rolled his eyes and helped you onto his bed, "Don't play dumb, you knew I was, that's why you said that shit about taking my last name at Joni." You stared up at him with wide eyes. You whispered gently, "I said that because I see a future with you Ransom. I want us to get married."

Silence filled the air, and with a sigh Ransom reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. You breathe got caught in your throat. He opened it and stared at you, the ring was beautiful. A silver band adorned with a diamond in the middle and surrounded by rubies. "Well, take my last name then sweetheart." You smiled and and giggled the sound coming out slightly muted. "Before I put the ring on my finger can you get me a drink of water." He smirked and passed you the glass of water that was on the nightstand next to his old bed.

You gulped and sighed, feeling you throat being more eased up and free from Ransoms cum. "I'd love to be your wife Ransom." With that he slid the beautiful ring on your finger and you attacked him with a kiss.

[sagechanoafterdark]

Christmas reblog! ☃️💕

It's A Marshmallow Christmas

Pairing: Ransom x Reader Word Count: 2,174 Warnings: language, fingering, dirty talk, soft Ransom, protective Ransom, Christmas stress A/N: First day of the 12 days of Kinksmas! I was so worried about not getting this one out on time. This may or may not be based entirely on fact. I hope it brings everyone a little bit of joy to see our favorite disaster couple having a happy holiday. Merry Christmas everyone!

Read more Ransom and Marshmallow in Held for Ransom!

“Okay what’s next,” you mumbled to yourself, finger sliding down the whiteboard on the kitchen fridge. “Right so next is the dip, which I can get on the tray and set out. But before that, I need to pull the chicken. Oh my god did I forget the fucking hot sauce!? Oh no there it is.”

Ransom stood at the threshold of the kitchen watching you flit from one cupboard to the next, his worry lines deepening. “Hey Marshmallow,” he called out somewhat wearily. “Maybe you should take a break for a few minutes.”

Turning around you pinned him with a glare that would surely make even his mother flinch, “I don’t have time to take a break, Ransom. There’s too much to do and I only have a few hours to get it all done!”

His blue eyes widened while you turned your back on him again. Your shoulders were up as you began mixing ingredients in a bowl and muttering to yourself.

You’d warned him.

You’d told him at Thanksgiving when Linda, after one too many vodka tonics, insinuated that you couldn’t hold a holiday together to save your life and that no doubt you’d be joining them every year from now on rather than hosting your own. Normally the dig would have slid off you, or you’d have chewed his mother out right here. Instead, you plastered a smile on your face and said something about hosting Christmas Eve dinner.

He should have stopped you. Made up some kind of excuse afterward or taken you on a trip away from the insanity that would overtake you. But your lamenting whine on the way home made him hold his tongue.

“What am I going to do Ransom,” you cried, head in your hands as he drove back towards home. “I can’t host Christmas Eve dinner! Christmas makes me crazy. I lose my damn mind every year and I know that I do it. Why would I say that?! What vengeful fucking ghost took hold of me and was like, ‘Let’s make her host dinner.’ Linda was drunk too, so she’s going to remember it! Fuck!!”

He should have listened to your warning.

But he didn’t.

It was only two days after that dinner when you’d begun decorating for the upcoming holiday while he was out for coffee. Garland and twinkle lights descend the staircase, along with various woodland animals made out of twigs and sticks, tiny Christmas trees with twinkle lights sitting on every surface, and more boxes of bulbs than he ever remembered when you’d moved in.

He’d only been gone maybe an hour.

Ransom also didn’t protest, much, when you dragged him to a tiny farm outside of the city that you’d found on Google maps. He’d almost froze to death as you made him trudge through the fresh New England snow to find what you would dub the ‘perfect’ tree.

Okay, so maybe that part wasn’t bad.

As if these weren’t moments he’d secretly cherish forever. Like seeing the look of pure childish wonder that spread over your face and lit your eyes as you’d finally spotted ‘The One.’

Or the giggle you let slip before swiping a dollop of whipped cream from his nose as the two of you drank hot chocolate afterward.

Or even you shrieking his name as he’d mistakenly released the netting on the tree before bringing it inside. It was his first time having a tree and decorating on his own, of course, he didn’t know how it was done!

How when putting the lights on the tree your tongue would peak out just a little in concentration. How when you finally finished for the day you’d slid into his arms so easily fast asleep. Alright so those, he could willingly admit, were the little moments he loved.

But what he didn’t love was whatever this was.

If he’d been paying closer attention he might have caught glimpses of the holiday madness settling within. When you couldn’t settle on ham or turkey for the main course, so you’d decided to compromise and make both. Then they were out of the potatoes you wanted, so you went to four different stores to find them, and then there was the very heated cranberry versus red pepper jelly discussion between you both in the middle of the aisle.

In nearly every instance you ended up in tears with your hands shaking and Ransom growing increasingly worried.

You needed to relax. Even if it was just for a moment.

Pursing his lips he looked over at the timer on the stove, there was a good hour before you’d be checking the turkey again. His smile grew slightly as he came up behind you.

“Hey,” he cooed, pressing up against your back. His hands slipped around your hips and held you firmly. It was impossible to miss how you instantly leaned back into him giving a sigh of relief. “You’ve been working really hard sweetheart. How about you take a little break.”

Ransom was the devil himself tempting you with the sweet fruit of a moment’s peace. His lips began dragging over the exposed column of your neck, pressing light pecks as he continued coaxing, “Dinner isn’t for another three hours, they’re all going to be here soon. So take a break.”

You would have been embarrassed at how easily you started to give in were you not a basket case of stress and anxiety. His hand closed over your own, pulling the spoon from your slackened fingers you swallowed hard pretending not to know exactly what it was that Ransom meant by taking a break. “I told you I can’t,” you scolded, reaching for the spoon as he held it just out of reach. “There’s still too much to do and I’m… Ransom…I’ve still got….Ransom, please give me the damn spoon.”

He chuckled, his hot breath caressing against the shell of your ear, “Mmm, no.” His mirthful rumble concluded as his teeth caught the lobe of your ear.

Gasping his name your hands slammed onto the counter for leverage just as his hips pinned your own against the unforgiving stone. Trying your best not to grind back against him as his growing erection pressed against the swell of your ass.

The hitch in your breath had him humming again in approval. “You’re acting a little too crazy today,” he admonished, that wicked tongue of his tracing down the column of your neck. Pressing teasing kisses to your skin, “I really think a little break is in order.”

Tilting your head to the side on instinct, your eyes closed in needed bliss, pleasure rolling through you as Ransom’s mouth found the sensitive spot that always made you keen.

“I warned you didn’t I,” you half sassed, guiding one of his hands to your breast. Gasping when his fingers gripped you through the dress you wore, dimpling the skin he growled against your skin.

“Yeah,” he agreed huskily in your ear, blatantly rubbing his cock against you now. “You gonna let me fuck some of that crazy out of you?”

The spoon clattered to the floor as you turned in his arms, leaning up and into his kiss as Ransom licked into your mouth, swallowing your moan. With the outline of his cock pressing against your belly, you couldn’t stop the roll of your hips as his strong warm hands cupped your ass and slid you onto the counter.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pulled Ransom close as his tongue stroked against your own. His hand dipping between you to rub at your clothed heat and earning another whimpering moan from you.

“Ransom,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in the new cable knit he wore. “I have to get dinner…. Oh, fuck right there.”

Pressing his thumb against your clit briefly, he withdrew his hand only to slip it inside the stretchy waistband of your leggings. A string of curses slipped past your lips as his thick fingers stroked against you, rubbing and pinching in just the right way that had you whining out his name.

“This what you want sweetheart,” he growled against your lips. “Sure you wouldn’t rather cum on my cock?”

A gasp burst from your lips as your head fell back against the cupboard, Ransom's fingers working their own sweet magic over your clit as the fire began to rise in you. “Ransom,” you panted, fingers trailing over the curve of his jaw. “Please. Please, I need it. Please.”

“Need it huh,” he husked against your lips. Feeling your slick coating his fingers before slipping one then two deep into you. The ragged moan that fell from your lips as he stretched you made him grin ear to ear, “So warm and wet for me, Marshmallow. You sure you wouldn’t rather cum on my fingers?”

Shaking your head as words became useless, your eyes clenched closed and you grit your teeth as he pressed that magical spot inside of you that had your legs shaking. “That’s it,” he coaxed, kissing along your jaw to your panting mouth. “Squirming so much for me, want you to make a fucking mess on my fingers sweetheart.”

The tremble in your legs was getting to be too much, unable to control yourself as you freely rode Ransom's hand on the kitchen counter. Your arms wrapped around his head, pulling him close as his fingers pressed, tapped, and thrust in and out of your soaked heat.

Ransom felt the muscles in your body beginning to tense, one by one, your trembling legs tightening around him and pulling him impossibly closer as you teetered on the edge, “Gonna cum for me? That’s it, pretty girl. Fall apart for me.”

And fall apart you did.

Mewling and shaking as all of the built-up tension released from you in an earth-shattering orgasm. Your walls fluttered around his still thrusting fingers and pulling him deeper as Ransom swallowed your moans. “Fucking beautiful,” he said pulling back and looking into your half-lidded eyes. “Always so beautiful for me.”

Withdrawing his hand from your waistband your arms wrapped around his shoulders again, pulling him close, pressing your lips to his in a fierce kiss. Leading with your tongue as it slowed to a natural end, Ransom nuzzled against you. Pecking kisses against your panting mouth.

“Better,” he asked, smiling when you nodded, closing your eyes briefly and catching your breath. “Good.”

“Hello, Ransom we’re here!”

The shrill echo of his mother's voice called from the front of the brownstone followed by the rumblings of his father, no doubt already looking for the scotch. Ransom growled in annoyance, his arms tightening around you before you sighed, “I need to finish dinner.”

“Listen, I want you to remember something,” Ransom said, voice serious as he leaned away, lifting your chin with his fingers. “This is your house. You live here. Not them. And I’m always on your side. If they get to be too much for you they’re gone. It’s a Marshmallow Christmas, not a Thromby Christmas, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“It’s just our first Christmas together as a couple,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “I wanted it to be perfect for us.”

“It’s already perfect cause it's with you.”

While the 'from the heart' statement surprised you, you also watched with barely concealed amusement as a flush of embarrassment ran through Ransom. Turning the man red all the way to the tips of his ears. “That was so cheesy,” you giggled at his expense.

“Shut up,” he growled, the slightest turn at the corner of his mouth.

“No, I mean it,” you continued teasing, sliding off the counter as he scoffed and went to the sink to wash his hands. “I think that was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said. Who would have known? Ransom Drysdale, says cheesy things to his girlfriend when he’s being soft.”

His mouth set into a line as you rubbed his back laughing a little, “I’m just teasing.”

Sighing, Ransom pulled the towel down and roughly dried his hands, “I’ll go greet our guests. Just don’t let her rile you today, it’s your Christmas, not hers. Oh and don’t let Richard get under your skin. And if Joni and Meg show up…”

Laughing you cupped his cheeks smiling up at him, “I know.” Leaning up on your tiptoes and kissing him softly. “I’m sorry that I’m going a little crazy. Just know that I’m grateful to have you here and on my side.”

“I’m always on your side,” he rumbled, hands sliding to your hips before pressing his forehead to your own. The two of you standing and swaying slightly in the kitchen to the faint sound of the radio before it was overtaken by the telltale tones of Richard and Linda arguing.

Ransom still held you, his hands tightening on your hips slightly before muttering, “Besides, even if you’re crazy today, looks like you’ll be in good company.”

[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.

[jjsmaybank20]

Hey, I hope you are having a wonderful day/week! I really don't know if I am doing this right since this is the first time I ever request something. I read some of your stories and I really liked them. I was wondering if you could right a fluff from Marta Cabrera x female reader (an author if that's okay), maybe after the events from Knives Out, there isn't enough content from her. She is so precious! If you can't that's alright too. Lots of love!

Always and Forever

Marta Cabrera x GN!Reader

Summary: Marta Cabrera is the woman for you.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of smut, L-bomb, otherwise just fluff!

Word Count: 972

A/N: I'm baaaack! Enjoy this fluffy fic to mark my return.

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Harlan Thrombey was your mentor, Go partner, and close confidant. You were an aspiring mystery writer, and he took you in and taught you his secret and wonderful ways with words. He helped you through some of the toughest times of your life, and quickly became something of a father figure to you. Because of this, you grew closer to the Thrombey family.

Over time, Harlan grew older, and he hired Marta Cabrera to assist him. At first, you weren’t a huge fan of hers. She became one of his Go partners, he would confide in her, and they became very close friends. You felt jealous, missing the times when it was just you and Harlan. Soon though, she grew on you just as she had on the rest of the Thrombeys.

Soon you realized that you had developed feelings for her. Not knowing what to do, you went to Meg for help. With her assistance, you awkwardly asked Marta out. She thankfully said yes, and you took her on a wonderful date. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. 

You two were in love, it was clear to see, but it wasn’t without it’s hardships. You struggled when Harlan passed, but you were quick to reassure your girlfriend that you didn’t blame her at all. You helped her to fool Detective Benoit, and stuck by her side throughout the entire ordeal.

You were there for her at the will reading, and when the Thrombeys got violent, you turned against your found family and held them off while Ransom drove Marta away. 

Not trusting Ransom, as you had known him for years and you knew what he was like, you were quick to join her when they were headed to the DNA Lab. Seeing that it was on fire, the three of you fled, leading to the dumbest car chase in the history of car chases.

Finally, you and Marta discovered Fran in the abandoned shop, and called 911 to attempt to save her. Detective Blanc soon collected the two of you, and brought you to the hospital, and then the Thrombey house. 

Knowing that Marta was going to confess, you stood close by her so that you could protect her from anybody who would try to attack her. As she was about to begin, Blanc interrupted her and then pulled her away.

You quickly followed after them. When you heard Marta lie about Fran’s survival, you were quick to call her bluff silently. You could always tell when your girlfriend was lying, even when she didn’t puke right away. 

Upon hearing the confession of Ransom, you knew he would attempt to go out with a bang. When Marta puked in his face, you were quick to push her out of the way as you saw him go to lunch for a knife. 

Ending up on the floor with him on top of you, you let out a massive sigh of relief, feeling that the knife was a trick. Sort of like Harlan’s final punishment for the now imprisoned Drysdale. It was only fair.

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Two months after the whole ordeal, you, Marta, and Marta’s mother and sister were comfortably moved into the former Thrombey house. With how much time you spent there, it already felt like it was your home, so it was only fit that your girlfriend owned it.

Waking up one morning, you see that Marta isn’t in bed with you. You begin to search around the large house for her, finally finding her out on the balcony that overlooks a fair amount of the property. 

Coming up behind her, you wrap your arms around her much smaller body. You feel her lean back into you, and the sensation makes you realize that you wouldn’t want to ever be anywhere but here, with your girlfriend in your arms, staring out over her beautiful land.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’re you doing up?” She asks you softly. You grin at the pet name, never getting over the butterflies that explode when she calls you it. You press soft kisses to her hickey covered neck, a product of the many long nights before. 

“I could ask you the same, love. Couldn’t sleep?” She shudders lightly, your morning voice always having some kind of affect on her. 

She shakes her head. You snuggle back into her before realizing what you have to do. You quickly tell her to stay where she is, then you run inside and grab the little black velvet box that you have been waiting to present to her.

When you come back, you have it hidden behind your back. Marta looks at you, confused. You smile at her before getting down on one knee. She gasps.

“Marta, I didn’t like you very much when I first met you. I thought you were stealing Harlan’s attention away from me. Over time, you slowly won me over. You just have that ability. You help me write my books when I’m stuck, and you know exactly what to say when I’m nervous about a release. We have been through hell and back together, and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Marta Cabrera, would you make me the happiest person alive and marry me?”

By this point, tears are streaming down both of your cheeks. Marta quickly gasps out a yes, and you jump up and pull her into a passionate kiss. 

“Oh my god, I love you so much!” She breathes against your lips. You laugh before saying, “I love you too. Now, we have to go tell your mom and sister. Marta Y/L/N, I like the sound of that.”

Marta smacks you playfully while you walk off to go tell your families the wonderful news. You couldn’t wait to marry this wonderful woman before you.

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