#dark ransom thrombey

[deliciousangelfestival]

Every Time You Lie - Ch 6 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house. 

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

You and Lionel arrived home from the arcade, and Lloyd awaited them. As you entered, Lloyd greeted you with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. However, his words hinted at an indirect warning about you not letting him know about your whereabouts.

"Wife, you didn't inform me where you were going. You used to do that before..." Lloyd's tone carried a subtle edge, making it clear that he expected you to keep him updated.

Lionel, upon hearing his father's voice, visibly flinched. Lloyd then instructed Lionel, “Go to your room,” with a stern tone, to which Lionel responded timidly, "Okay," and quickly retreated to his room.

You couldn't help but notice the unease in your son, a stark contrast to the vibrant and playful boy you remembered. It raised questions about the dynamics within the household that went beyond your memory loss.

Lloyd's disdain for the doll was evident in his dismissive words, "What kind of ugly thing is that?" However, you became protective of the prize Lionel had worked hard to win, countered his comment.

"Hey, don't say that. Lionel worked hard to win this," You defended a hint of defiance in your voice.

Surprised by your straightforward response, Lloyd softened, "Alright, alright. I'm sorry."

He held you delicately, as if you were fragile, and said, "It's already late. You have to drink your medicine before resting."

You nodded in agreement, "Okay."

In the quiet stillness of the Hansen mansion at night, Lloyd awoke to find the space beside him empty. Concerned, he donned his night robe and sandals, contemplating whether you were sleepwalking, a behavior you had never exhibited before.

Locating you in front of the expansive French window, he approached you gently, attempting to coax you back to bed. "Honey, let's go back to sleep," he murmured.

However, your demeanor suddenly changed, and you strangled Lloyd, causing him to fall to the ground with you on top. In your rage, you accused him, "It's all because of you!!! Everything is gone because of you, my father, my sister, my brother."

Struggling for breath, Lloyd pleaded, "Wife, wake up; it's all a dream."

“Y/N!!!”

The intensity of his scream finally jolted you awake from your turbulent dream.

You gradually sat up on the bed, and your movement stirred Lloyd. Concerned, he inquired, "Did you have a good sleep?"

You nodded in response.

Lloyd tenderly stroked your hair, "Let's get up. I'll accompany you for your therapy today."

You responded with a soft sound of agreement. While you wanted to convey that you might not need more therapy, there was a small comfort in knowing you would get to see your daughter, Emily.

As you left the bed, Lloyd's hand instinctively touched the back of his neck. He winced, feeling the subtle sting of your nails scratching his skin during sleepwalking. A frown creased his forehead.

Concern etched on his face, Lloyd reached for his phone and dialed a number. He spoke to the receiver in a hushed tone, "Change her medicine. Add the dosage."

The atmosphere seemed lighter than usual as Lionel joined them at the breakfast table. The young man brought his basketball, a tangible sign of the spark reignited by yesterday's outing.

You welcomed him with a cheerful greeting, "Good morning."

Lionel responded with a simple "Morning, Mom," sitting across from you. You patted the chair beside you, "You're too far; sit beside me." Lionel agreed, moving closer.

Observing the newfound closeness between mother and son, Lloyd continued with his breakfast. However, his moment of reprieve was interrupted by an unexpected phone call. The news he received prompted a sudden outburst, "Nonsense!!! It's impossible!!! We have the license."

Lloyd's sudden outburst caught the attention of both you and Lionel, causing an awkward pause in the breakfast conversation. However, Lloyd swiftly regained his composure, addressing the urgent matters on the phone.

As he concluded the call, Lloyd told you, "Prepare the jet. I'll be there in person. Call our PR to handle this." He turned off his phone, attempting to mask the abruptness of the situation.

You who have been listening to his conversation, “What jet?”

As he turned off his phone, Lloyd reassured you, "Ours. We have a jet, my dear. You'll be surprised at how successful your father's company is under my hands." Your grip on the fork tightened at the reminder of the company's ownership transition.

Lloyd, adjusting his tie, approached you and gently kissed your cheek. "I have to go to LA; something happened in our branch there. I couldn't accompany you today, but I'm sure Emily will be there."

You, trying to conceal your emotions, responded, "I'll be fine. Be safe."

Lloyd smiled, assuring you, "I will." Before departing, he turned to Lionel and promptly commanded, "Be good. Don't make any trouble."

Lionel, responding with a subdued "Yes, father," visibly flinched. You sensed your son's unease and comforted him by placing your hand atop his, offering reassurance. As Lloyd left, Lionel found solace in his mother's presence, a reprieve from the looming shadows of his father's authority.

As you underwent therapy for your foot and had various medical examinations, Dr. Gabriel, the head doctor, assured you were healthy. Emily stood by her mother's side throughout, providing a comforting presence.

After the medical appointments, Emily suggested, "Let's take a walk near the hospital lake before you go back." You agreed, although your eyes subtly signaled your discomfort with the idea because of Lloyd's assigned bodyguard to always be at your side.

Sensitive to her mother's feelings, Emily assured you, "It'll be alright. I'll handle it."

While enjoying the beauty of the scenery, Emily suddenly said, "Mom, I left something. I'll be right back."

While you sat on the bench, taking in the picturesque view of the swan lake, you felt someone join you. Shocked, you turned to find Ransom seated beside you, clad in his familiar brown cloak, scarf, and sunglasses.

A surprised smile played on his lips as he greeted you, "Hey, sweetie."

The unexpected presence of Ransom stirred a mixture of emotions within you. Your heart raced, and her mind was a whirlwind of memories from their past. Despite the surprise, you composed yourself and replied, "Ransom? What are you doing here?"

You couldn't help but feel a sense of fear lingering due to Lloyd's intimidating bodyguards. However, after noticing your unease, Ransom reassured you with a mischievous smile, saying, "Rest assured, I've taken care of your bodyguard."

Curious, you asked, "How?"

Ransom placed one finger on his lips, adopting a playful expression, "Bribe."

You chuckled at the revelation, finding it typical of Ransom's approach. "That's so Ransom."

As they shared a lighthearted moment, Ransom couldn't help but gaze at the woman he had once loved, now standing before him, laughing. 

Unable to contain his emotions, Ransom wrapped his arms around you, confessing, "How much I miss you."

Surprised by the sudden embrace, you hesitated momentarily but found a strange comfort in Ransom's arms. There was an undeniable sense of rightness, a feeling you hadn't experienced with Lloyd.

Feeling your warmth in his arms, Ransom couldn't hold back his emotions. "How much I miss you," he repeated, his voice filled with regret and longing.

As you, still held in his embrace, you gathered the courage to ask, "Ransom, why did we break up?"

Ransom released his hold, and for a moment, a flicker of fear crossed his face. After a heavy sigh, he admitted, "We had a massive argument. And I..." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Your curiosity mixed with concern, pressed further, "Ransom, what happened?"

Running a hand through his face, Ransom sighed deeply. "I ended up in jail."

Your eyes widened in shock, "What?"

Author Note :

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Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , -

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi 🥹💓

[bibislutmarvel]

I made gifs, you're welcome 😘

[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.

[killerfund]

Ransom isolating himself and only having people who want to use him because his parents wanted nothing with him. So to fill the void, he will spoil those around him so they will give him the extra 2 secs he could get. Didn’t matter who. But he also dispatched himself when feeling too close or any element of being wanted because who wants an asshole like him. He was and will always be the bastard son. A slapped on expensive leather to show up when his mom ‘requires’ his presence. Only to mock the idolize ‘family’ they portray.

[krirebr]

Updated 9/19/24

Tag lists are open

Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my stories are intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.

Requests are closed but my asks are always open! Come riff with me or send asks/what ifs about any of my works! But no NSFW GIFs, please and thank you! 💜

🖤 Dark 🩶 Soft!Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut

Trapped AU

Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤 😥

Head Over Heels

All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.

I Know I Should Know Better series

Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Luck Be a Lady

Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head? 🩶🥵

Drabbles & Headcanons

Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤

Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵

Curtis + Possessive 🥵

Just Part of the Process - I Know I Should Know Better AU - Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader 😥

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Relax

A Merry Little Christmas

Killing Moon

When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.

Giving Me a Thrill

A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.

Psycho Killer AU

A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two 🖤🥵😥

More Than This series

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. 😥

I'm Feeling Like I Never Should

It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Jealous Ex Ransom

Sequel 🥵

End

No Way of Knowing - More Than This What If 😥

What You Can Do For Your Country

Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤

Everybody Wants to Rule the World series

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two

Drabbles & Headcanons

Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon

Tell Me One Thing - More Than This What If 😥

What if Reader was into it? - What You Can Do For Your Country What If 🖤

We're All Monsters

Multi-character, multi-reader vampire AU 🖤😥🥵

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

murder daddy vs. lawyer daddy. Knives out (2019) vs. Defending Jacob (2020)//

My weaknesses. Not to mention the hands on their hips like daddies about to scolding you 😩 I mean where do I sign up.

Just a thot...

Back to Black

Warnings: allusions to abuse and coercion, along with other untagged dark elements.

Summary: You get a lecture after you try to make a break for it.

Note: as usual, your thoughts are welcome. I'm kinda piddling around with these today but I hope you enjoy. Reblog and comment if you so kindly like.

You can still smell the smoke. You taste it too. The jarring impact replays in your head as the loud crush of metal echoes over and over. Your car spinning out, crashing into the barrier, flipping over the other side. All you saw were headlights, round and white. The Beemer. 

Your eyes snap open again. Your skull throbs as the familiar scent of bergamot and citrus stains your nostrils. The aroma brings thoughts of wool and brick. It is the smell of the Thrombey stronghold. Of your prison. 

Your eyes slit as ribs ache. You cough as you take a deep breath. There’s a scuff and a groan. The creak of wood, old furniture, inherited. Footsteps and a door, voices in a low rumble from down the hall. 

You let your lashes droop and remain as you are. A downy pillow under your head and a heavy quilt draped over laundered linen over your body. You have no energy or strength. 

“She’s awake,” Ransom snarls as he stomps into the room. “Hey,” he kicks the footboard, “none of the play shit, you little bitch. That’s not going to work on me again.” 

“Woah,” Andy calmly girds the other’s temper. “Honey.” 

You know he’s talking to you. That’s what he always calls you. That pet name. That false beacon of kindness. How could you fall for it. 

“Honey,” he drags out the word the second time. A warning. 

You open your eyes. His hands are on his hips. That stance holds so much; frustration, disappointment, anger... danger. 

“How are you feeling? That was quite the joyride you had.” 

You could laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like knives. Your head lolls. Arguing is useless. You realised that long ago. It’s why you tried to run. 

“Reckless. Stupid,” Andy continues on. 

Your eyes drift over to Ransom as he shifts to mimic Andy’s posture. It isn’t quite as effective. He pushes back his grey sweater to grip his hips, looking more petulant than intimidating. 

“Where were you off to, anyway?” Andy tilts his head. 

He’s playing with you. That’s what he does. He’s a prosecutor. He’s a cat with a mouse. He’ll bat you around until you squeak like he wants. 

“Packed a whole damn bag and everything? You going to visit family? An impromptu vacation?” He continues. 

“Stop,” you croak. 

“Stop,” he scoffs, “I don’t like liars, honey, and I know you’re not a liar. So why the fuck did you take my car?” 

His tone is iron. You flinch. He knows. He just wants you to say it. 

“You know--” you begin. 

“Fucking brat,” Ransom mutters. Andy taps his chest, holding up a finger, then points at you. 

You heave in exasperation and it makes you whine and hug your torso. Something’s broken. Several something’s at least. 

“Because... I was leaving you,” you sneer as you close your eyes. “But you win. The both of you.” You wheeze and cough. “You always fucking win.” 

Andy clucks, “now, honey, you know I don’t like when you swear.” There’s a subtle crack, you can see it without looking. Him tilting his head until his neck cracks. Then he bends his knuckles until they do the same; criiiick. “Ransom, go get the soap. Looks like we need to go back to basics.” 

[steviebbboi]

Oh so angry! Looks like Ransom’s just decided your punishment and is ready to enact it. What did you do??

Gif source

A/N: Okay, OKAY, twist my arm! I didn't think this would be a whole ficlet but hereeee we are. Thank @bigtreefest for this hot lil number 🙂‍↕️

Disclaimer(s): This is an 18+ fic only (MINORS DNI). You are responsible for the content that you consume, please be mindful!

Warning(s): daddy/princess kink, praise kink, softDom!Ransom, spanking involved, protective and posessiveness from Ransom, maybe some naivety from the reader but their relationship is consensual and genuine, and a shitty Linda (ofc). Some mild degradation and explicit details of smut, and implied smut.

Word count: 1.8k~

Divider by @firefly-graphics <3

Ransom started giving you that look. The look that lets you know that you’ve pushed him too far. You were coming from another tyrannical Thrombey family dinner when your usual calm demeanor started to crack. All facilitated by one comment made by Linda.

“Ransom, you’re not serious about this harlot, are you?” 

You suppose that you should have been grateful that she had at least waited for you to be out of hearing distance, but her poor timing had resulted in you walking back into the parlor right about when she called you a harlot. 

The silence in the room as the rest of the family turned to look at you had been deafening. You also couldn’t help the grimace that took over your face once you saw all of their eyes on you (she didn’t exactly make it unknown that she didn’t like you but you just never expected for the facade to break). 

But it wasn’t really the comment made by Linda that ate at you. It was Ransom’s lack of response – his silence, that spurred that beginning burn of tears in your eyes that you didn’t dare let fall in front of them. 

Ransom stood there for a minute staring at Linda before he looked back at you. His face was so stoic and his jaw was clenched. He looked angry, but he still didn’t say anything. He merely got up from the armchair, strolled over to you to take your hand with his left and grab both of your coats in his right. Dragging you to the door with you stumbling behind him quietly, and you both left. 

During the car ride, tension filled the space like it hadn’t before. With his family, Ransom always gave you the pep talk of preparing for the worst with his parents’ lack of empathy, or Joni’s incessant, passive aggressive demeanor. But he never prepared you for his own added insult to injury. 

“I think that you should take me home tonight.” You mutter quietly interrupting the tense silence. The tears dried up and in place sat an air of resignation. You knew what you were getting into when you got into a relationship with Ransom–but this was an entirely new experience and you needed the time and space to process it. 

You could feel Ransom looking over at you as he drove. The trajectory of his destination hadn’t changed but he indicated that he heard you by suddenly pulling the car over on the empty road. 

Not even bothering to look over at him even as the car turns off, you sigh and turn away from him to stare out at the dark woods next to you. It was an eerie place to be in during the night, especially when there was already so much anxiety present in the space. 

“Look at me, Princess. Now.” Ransom said with such a firmness that you gave up your stonewalling and turned your head to meet his determined gaze. 

Once his eyes met your tired ones, you can see his expression soften. “Don’t listen to Linda. She’s a cunt of a woman who looks beneath any and all who aren’t Harlan, and you know it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and respond, “Ransom, you know that I can really give two fucks about what Linda says, or anyone would say about me.” 

He looked at you expectedly, “But?”

You feel a white rush of hot frustration seep into you as you say, “BUT I care about what you say about me! You didn’t even try to say anything back– would it kill you to just fight for me for once?” You didn’t wait for his response before continuing with your rant, “I think that you might even agree with her, I mean, are you even serious about me at all?!” 

Panting at the exertion of your accusation, you look away from the silent man and turn to look straight ahead to huff out one last defeated sigh. “Just take me home, please.”

More silence filled the enclosed space for what felt like an hour, in totality, it took really more like five minutes for Ransom to simply say, “Get out the car.”

Confused by the demand, you look over at him with a furrowed brow before catching that look on his face. The ‘look’. 

Swallowing thickly at noticing his expression, you stutter, “W-what?”

“You heard me. Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” He repeats with an even sterner tone. 

Shuffling for your seatbelt, you haphazardly push for the release until you could clumsily get out of the car. Anger taking over the confusion once more, you slam the door shut hard and make sure to flourish it with an exaggerated huff. 

A moment later, Ransom gets out of the car too (only increasing your initial confusion, heightening your frustration) and proceeds to walk to your end of the car only to bypass you and reach for the sedan’s back door to open it. 

Crossing your arms to keep up with your attitude, you look at him with a pointed frown. He looked over at you expectedly and demanded for you to get in the back. 

Now in a full blown tantrum, you stomp two steps over to duck back into the backseat of the car and force yourself to scoot over once Ransom stepped in behind you. 

Sitting next to him, you could feel the red hot anger boiling in your body while simultaneously also experiencing the lack of space between you. A different kind of heat fills you since you can’t help how attracted and in sync your body was with his. You pressed your thighs together and you felt a throb ripple between your legs. 

Without saying anything, you know that Ransom is analyzing your every move and has definitely noticed you clenching your thighs. Trying to cover it up, you cross your legs in fake boredom. But as your bare knee touches his, you let out a squeak as he suddenly pulls you by your crossed leg to straddle him. 

Suddenly you were on top of him, your arms instinctively going around his shoulders and resting on the seat cushion behind him. 

“Now that you’re facing me like a good girl, I want you to repeat what you just said to my face.” He merely said with that ‘look’ still on his handsome face. 

You were gripping his coat on either of his shoulders and bit your bottom lip, now unsure of how to gauge this reaction from him. “What do you me– ow!” You shriek.

In the middle of you asking, Ransom laid a sharp slap to your ass. You couldn’t help that your pussy reacted to the smack and you flush as you felt a gush of wetness seep through your thin panties.

“Ransom, what the fuc– argh!” He proceeded to slap your ass again. 

“Princess," I said: repeat what you just said to my face. Now.” Ransom said quietly.

Breathing heavier at the darkness in his tone, and the way that the space was only lit by one road light further down the path only emphasized the intensity of his request. The atmosphere felt weirdly intimate, like you were the only two in the world. 

“But which– ah!” A moan slipped this time as he slapped your ass, this time, it was harder. 

Ransom gave you a ‘tsk’ and said, “Princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl for Daddy?” 

You let out a small whimper and nodded your head pathetically. At the small tears gathering in your eyes, Ransom’s eyes softened a bit and he lifted one hand to stroke your hair away from your face to tuck it behind one ear. 

“I know you do, baby. So, do what Daddy is telling you. Repeat to me what you just said.”

You sniffle a bit before saying, “Are you serious about me at all?” Instead of this being repeated in frustration and anger, it was said meekly. The truth was that you have always felt a little insecure in your relationship together. He was Ransom Drysdale. He had status, means, resources. And you were the opposite of all of those things. You suppose you always felt like you were waiting for him to finally realize that and dump you to find someone else more suited to his needs.

Ransom cooed at you, as if he was able to read your mind, before stroking your hair again, “See, pretty baby, was that so hard?” He unzipped your coat slowly and threw it over to the passenger seat before lifting up the skirt of your dress to reveal your soft ass merely covered by a lacy thong.

He fondled your cheeks for a minute, humming his satisfaction at how smooth your skin felt, and how there was so much of you for him to grip onto. He gripped both of your cheeks suddenly with both of his hands and you let out a squeak in reaction to his tight grasp. 

The ‘look’ returned to his face once more and he made sure to capture your hooded gaze with his own. “Don’t you ever doubt how serious I am about you, Princess. You know that Daddy loves taking care of you, right? So much so that I knew that those fuckers didn’t deserve another minute of your time. We left because they don’t deserve the luxury of a response from me, nor do they deserve it from you. Understand now, pretty baby?”

Actively listening to him, you proceeded to let out the tears that you’ve been holding back while nodding your understanding. It all makes sense now- Ransom has always tried to protect you from his family. He valued your presence and respected your time enough that his first instinct was to get you out of that space and back to a place where you are very much wanted – with him.

Ransom only gave you a soft smile at the sight of your tears. He was proud of you for listening to him and for seeing things from his perspective. He’s only ever wanted to keep you safe, and he made sure to remind you of that every single time you’ve ever misaligned with that view. Your cute reactions and tears only further confirmed for him that he was the only one that could ever keep you like this. No one can ever take you away from him.

You shift in his arms a bit to get more comfortable and you release a quiet gasp at the same time that he lets out a sharp inhale as you both notice how his hands then naturally lowered so that the tips of his outer fingers were now barely brushing the covered lace of your pussy. 

Ransom hums out a low growl while he proceeds to stroke along your inner thighs towards the wet spot on your underwear. He starts slowly rubbing the thin fabric that covered your clit. You mewled again, feeling so turned on already from his punishment but also from how much care you were feeling from him at that moment.

“Now, Princess, we’re going to stay here while I spank this pretty little pussy until you remember how much I love you.” 

Welp! Honestly, is a punishment from Ransom ever really a punishment? 😏 I also just love a soft!dom!Ransom tbh.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated and v welcomed :) thank you for reading!

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[buckets-and-trees]

Between the Lines

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

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

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

↠ 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 fund, 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 the 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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[deliciousangelfestival]

Every Time You Lie - Ch 7 || Lloyd Hansen

Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.

Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house. 

But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.

Both of them shouldn’t be together.

Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+

Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work.

Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.

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In that moment of revelation, you found yourself frozen, your hands instinctively reaching for Ransom's face as if the touch could erase the weight of his words. 

Once filled with a mischievous spark, his eyes now held a haunted depth that mirrored your heart's turmoil.

"Tell me what happened," you pleaded, the words escaping your lips almost in a whisper, a fragile plea for the truth you feared.

The weight of Ransom's words hung in the air, sinking into your consciousness like a heavy anchor. "Because of drugs," he confessed, and the reality of the situation crashed over you like a tidal wave.

In the recesses of your memories, you recalled when Ransom's choice of friends had raised concerns. You, along with Linda and Harlan, had implored him to distance himself from the dangerous circle, a plea that fell on deaf ears. Ransom had always reassured everyone that he wasn't addicted, that he could handle it.

But the past had a way of resurfacing, revealing the cracks in the carefully crafted facade.

Ransom continued, his gaze fixed on a distant point, "One day, after our argument, the police stopped my car. They found drugs in it." 

His voice quivered, a mixture of regret and bitterness coloring the words. "I hired a lawyer, fought the charges, but I still lost. And I knew it was because of your husband."

The revelation struck you like a lightning bolt. The intricate web of events, woven by choices and consequences, tightened its grip around you. 

The realization that Lloyd may have played a role in Ransom's downfall stunned you, a mosaic of emotions playing across your features.

Ransom's eyes bore into yours, “Do you remember?”

"I don't. What happened after that?" you questioned, your voice edging with curiosity and apprehension.

"To be free from jail, my lawyer suggested I go into rehabilitation," Ransom admitted, the bitterness of the past still lingering in his words. "And then my old man, infuriated by the scandal plastered all over the media, decided to ship me off to Europe."

He recounted the harsh reality of his journey—an odyssey of rehabilitation that felt no different from a prison sentence. The inability to return for a year compounded his sense of confinement. 

Yet, amidst the struggles, he found a silver lining—a connection that proved to be surprisingly valuable.

You listened to his story; for you, the time passed quickly, but for him, it had been years. The fear of losing a memory loomed, casting a shadow over the revelation.

Seizing the moment, you asked Ransom, "Do you know the truth about my dad, his company, and my siblings?”

Ransom's nod carried a sense of solemnity, "But, it's for me to tell you."

He turned around, and you instinctively followed his lead. As you both faced the room, a palpable tension hung in the air. 

Your breath caught when a surprise guest entered—the last person you expected. It was your brother, Theo.

******

At Crystal Pharmaceutical L.A Branch 

Lloyd sat restlessly in the dimly lit boardroom, surrounded by his legal team. Tension hung thick in the air as they delved into the intricate details of the pharmacy company's myriad issues.

Lloyd's face contorted with a mix of frustration and disbelief. He clenched his jaw as the weight of the accusations sank in. "Opium and human experiments?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the tense meeting room.

The lawyers exchanged nervous glances, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Sir, the media is running wild with these claims. We need a strategic approach to address these allegations and mitigate the damage to the company's reputation," one of them stammered.

Lloyd leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant hum of city traffic. "Find out who's behind this. 

I want names, connections, and every detail about that so-called whistleblower," he commanded, his eyes piercing through the legal team.

As the meeting continued, Lloyd's mind raced, contemplating the potential fallout from these damning revelations. 

He knew that salvaging the company's image would require more than just legal maneuvering; it would demand a meticulous investigation to unveil the truth and clear the company's tarnished name.

The stakes were high, and Lloyd couldn't afford to let the allegations spiral out of control. The challenge ahead seemed daunting, and the fate of the company hung in the balance.

Lloyd leaned forward, his eyes locking onto the intensity in the room. "If one of you works well, I will reward that person with $2 million," he declared, the gravity of his words punctuating the already charged atmosphere. 

A collective gasp filled the room as the legal team absorbed the staggering number.

"Now do your work, before I change my mind," Lloyd asserted with a firm resolve, his voice cutting through the stillness. 

The weight of his announcement settled over the team, prompting a flurry of activity as they refocused on their tasks, driven by the prospect of both professional success and a substantial financial reward. All of them ran to leave the meeting room. 

Alone in the now-empty meeting room, Lloyd's expression hardened. He swiftly reached for his phone and dialed a number, his voice low and decisive. "Burn everything," he commanded. 

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[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [3]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 6,133

A/N: oof. this one is a long one, but i really hope you all enjoy. no smut, but be assured… it’s on it’s way. 😈

previous

Dinner is privately catered, a stoic chef cooking for the four of you in the big communal kitchen in the largest villa, the one you were staying in with Ransom and Lloyd. You’re practically ravenous, splitting your time between watching him impatiently through the large open archway into the kitchen and staring enviously at Nathalie’s over-full glass of wine. 

 “Don’s supposed to be getting here tomorrow, he and Kathy are coming with mom and dad,” she says, and Lloyd nods. Your brother had refused Lloyd’s offer of airfare, as had your father. They were both hard-headed and cynical on the best of days, so you assumed it had been because they thought he was trying to buy them off. If he was, it had certainly worked with Nat. Who, despite your mutual dislike of Lloyd, had not been able to stop thanking him. He preened under her praise of course, peacock that he was. 

 “I can’t wait to meet the in-laws.” He says, hoisting a glass of wine as if in a toast to your absent parents. 

 “My in-laws,” Ransom reminds him, and Lloyd makes a face you can’t discern beyond vague irritation.

 “That’s what I said,” he snaps back, his lip curling. 

 You roll your eyes at their bickering. “When are your parents getting here again, babe?” You ask, talking over Lloyd’s irritated muttering. Ransom cocks his head. 

 “Day after tomorrow. But they’re not staying here, you know my mom. Full amenities.” He shrugs dismissively. “Why?”

 “Just curious,” you say, eyeing the chef over his shoulder again. It looks like he’s plating up the food, which you’re grateful for, because you’re hungry enough to eat a horse. You don’t exactly hate the idea of the Thrombeys staying somewhere else. The plates come out hot, and you’re grateful to be served first, picking up your fork immediately. The chicken is flavorful and well seasoned, and your eyes roll as you bite in. 

 “Oh my God,” you say, and Nat releases a similarly pleased groan.

 “Right? This is—Christ. Do they rent this place out like, monthly?” She leans over to elbow your brother-in-law. “Because I would definitely move here. Only if the personal chef is included, though.” You eye Nat’s glass of wine jealously as you eat, knowing it would pair perfectly with the chicken. Probably better with her fish, but I can’t eat that. You know you shouldn’t be sullenly coveting your sister’s dietary freedoms, after all, she’s not the one who decided to go ahead and get pregnant. 

 You wonder what Ransom’s parents will have to say about the baby—you know part of the purpose of this trip is to butter them up to the idea of being grandparents. Linda wasn’t exactly the most… supportive of you and Ransom getting together, her cold acceptance the one constant every time you were forced to interact. Maybe, you think, placing an absent hand on your belly as you push the food around your plate, she’ll finally find something to be happy about. 

  “Hey, hello,” Nathalie snaps her fingers in front of your face to get your attention. You scowl, slapping her hands away as she laughs. She’s never quite grown out of her irritating younger sibling behavior, and you don’t want to smile at her childish antics, but you can’t help it. “I was thinking maybe we could go into town tomorrow, maybe see the sights, take some pictures—”

 “That won’t work,” Lloyd replies before either you or Ransom have time to consider it. “I have work.” 

 “Work?” Nathalie scoffs. “What work? We’re on vacation,” she says, shaking her head. “And besides, we can just meet you after, can’t we?” 

 “No.” Lloyd’s voice is oddly strained, like he’s angry at the suggestion even being made. “If we can’t all go, we should stay here.” You frown—you don’t like him snapping at Nat like that, and you make your displeasure known. 

 “Lloyd this is our trip too. We’re allowed to do things.” He cuts his eyes at you before they soften just a little at the edges. 

 “The two of you shouldn’t go places alone.” You get the feeling that isn’t really what he wants to say. “The town is nice, but it can get… dicey.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Besides, it’s a family trip—”

 “Honestly, Lloyd, if you’re upset at being left out, just say so,” you snap, reaching rather forcefully for your water glass. It takes a moment for you to realize that everyone is staring at you—Lloyd’s eyes angry, Ransom’s amused, and Nathalie’s worried. You’re tired of him nagging you, his secretive smiles, knowing little glances—you’re already sick of it. You know they’ll probably chalk it up to hormones, and you’re willing to let them believe it, ignoring their looks as you focus on your food. 

 “How about we make plans tomorrow?” Nathalie says, her voice small. You know she’s capitulating to save herself having to sit through the argument she can tell is brewing. And hell, maybe it is hormones, but you’re not going to put up with Lloyd bossing you around all week. You don’t take part in the small talk that creeps up around the table in the wake of your outburst, and you feel a shameful amount of pleasure at having thrown Lloyd for a loop. For once, he’s broody and irritable instead of smug, and you can’t help but revel in it. 

 Nathalie excuses herself back to her little cabana, and you to the suite you share with Ransom, knowing he’ll be there soon to chastise you. You pop into the shower, standing gratefully underneath the scalding hot spray. It’s the one thing you’ve never really understood, your husband’s staunch defense of his brother. There’s little you know Ransom would deny Lloyd if he asked, and Lloyd never hesitates to take advantage of his brother’s good will. 

 When you exit the shower, your prediction has officially come to fruition. Ransom is sitting on the bed, his arms crossed as he purses his lips at you. 

 “Sweetheart, picking fights is not going to make things easier.” You roll your eyes. 

 “He’s a prick,” you huff. “He’s controlling and rude and smug—”

 “And he’s trying to get closer to you—to us. He wants to be a real part of our family,” Ransom says, his eyes dropping pointedly to your belly before he drags them back up to your face. “Why can’t you try and get along with him, too?” You huff as your husband stands and walks over to you. Stubbornly, you don’t return his hug, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss into your hair. When he doesn’t let go, you sigh, wrapping your arms around his broad torso in return. You turn your head, pressing your cheek to his chest. You catch sight of the bracelet on the dresser, and sigh again. 

 “I am trying to get along with him,” you say petulantly, and Ransom fixes you with a deadpan stare as he leans away. “Fine. I can… I can try harder. For you,” you add the last part pointedly. “I know you guys are close, and I don’t… Ugh. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I just… I didn’t like how he was talking to Nat,” you admit, and Ransom laughs. You do too, even as you slap playfully at his arm in Nathalie’s defense. 

 “Spoiled rotten, both of them,” Ransom cedes that to you, at least—even if he has to incriminate Nathalie in the process. Which you don’t really mind—it’s not like it isn’t true. “Let’s give him this one day, okay? We’ll all go to the beach after he’s done work.”

 “Fine.” You say, shaking your head as you move toward your suitcase. The resort staff had offered to unpack it for you, but you were less than keen at having a stranger go through your things, so you rummage around until you’ve found one of Ransom’s old university t-shirts. 

“I don’t even know what work he could be doing here, like five-thousand miles away from his job,” you mutter as you climb into bed. With only a touch of shame, you watch your husband get undressed, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he goes to shower too. 

 “Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” Ransom calls from the bathroom, and you curse. You aren’t used to your new regimen of prenatal vitamins and supplements, and you grimace, remembering the size of them.

 “No, but I’ll take them tomorrow,” you call, and Ransom pokes his head out of the bathroom, a stern look on his face. “Fine, now,” you climb back out of bed and grab your toiletry bag. You’d been surprised when Ransom had insisted on you seeing the family doctor after your own, and doubly so when he had prescribed you a veritable laundry list of pills. Even now as you line up the bottles on the dresser, you feel intimidated by their sheer number. Vitamins for you, vitamins for the baby, supplements for you, supplements for the baby, something for your blood pressure, for the morning sickness—too many to count. 

 Ransom gives you a satisfied nod before ducking back into the bathroom. You want to stay awake until he comes out—you’re not finished with this Lloyd conversation, not by a long shot—but your eyelids begin to droop before the water even shuts off. Your awareness is patchy, brief moments of clarity as it becomes harder and harder for you to surface from underneath the pitch black weight of unconsciousness. 

 You’re alone, and then Ransom is in the bed with you, and then he isn’t, and then his voice, and then—

 Nothing. 

 —

 You greet your first morning in the villa groggily. The morning sun streaming in through the gap in the blinds paints a blinding stripe across your face as you squint. There’s a chalk-dust taste on your tongue when you sit up, and you grimace, swallowing dryly. Each of your limbs feels like it weighs easily twice as much as normal as you drag yourself to the bathroom, nausea twisting your stomach into an acid mess. After your—now routine—session of heaving up absolutely nothing, you rinse your mouth out in the sink. 

 The digital clock on the dresser tells you its half past ten, easily an hour or two after you usually wake up in the morning. The villa is quiet, though, no signs of Ransom—or Lloyd. You chalk it up to luck as you pad down the short set of steps into the empty kitchen. You can hear the ocean if you listen hard, just underneath the sound of the comforting breeze passing through the trees before it flows in through the wide open windows. You open the fridge, and find evidence of breakfast—sliced fruit, cold pancakes. 

 Ignoring the pancakes, you grab the plate of fruit, pulling off the saran-wrap covering it before popping a date into your mouth. 

 “Oh, you’re up. How’s your stomach this morning?”  You glance briefly around the open door of the fridge at your husband, before closing it. 

 “Ugh. I puked again this morning,” you say, swallowing at the memory of the acid bile on your tongue. “Not looking forward to nine months of this.” You pop another piece of mango into your mouth. 

 “Well, you know they say there are good remedies for morning sickness.” There’s a suggestiveness in his voice that makes you laugh, a bashful heat rising in your cheeks. You shake your head, plucking an orange slice from the plate before looking fully up at—

 Your chest tightens—this isn’t Ransom at all. 

 It’s Lloyd. 

 How he’d managed to sound exactly like Ransom you aren’t sure—their voices are similar, but certainly not identical. You hadn’t even realized at a glance, his telltale mustache missing, as were the thick signet rings on his fingers. The smile on his face remains disgustingly innocent, as if he doesn’t know what he’s done.

 “Something wrong?” He asks, parroting Ransom’s drawl with terrifying accuracy. 

 You swallow, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that the hem of Ransom’s t-shirt skirts the tops of your thighs. And more than that, you are aware of the fact that you are alone.

 “I th—” The words stick in your throat. “I thought. Um. You were Ransom.” Your voice is tight, like your white knuckled grip on the fruit plate. Lloyd’s eyebrows rise, and he clucks his tongue, a apologetic little pout forming on his lips. 

 “I’m sorry, Princess.” You know he isn’t sorry, he isn’t sorry at all. “Even the best get us mixed up from time to time.” He breezes by you, making a show of looking in the fridge. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat of him, smell his cologne. Your body is tense and frozen as he rummages through the fridge behind you, too close for you to move without touching him. 

 He’s doing this on purpose.

 You know the thought is unreasonable, but you can’t help thinking it anyway. Lloyd hadn’t claimed to be Ransom, not really. It was you who had made the assumption, and to be fair, you hadn’t even voiced it. He just didn’t correct me. As per usual, Lloyd’s proverbial cup fucking runneth over with plausible deniability, and you’re stuck debating whether what you’re feeling is even real at all. 

 After what feels like an eternity, Lloyd closes the fridge. The few extra inches of space the shut door allows you to slip around to the other side of the kitchen island, keeping your eyes on him the whole time. Lloyd leans forward to pluck handful of grapes off of the tray. 

 “No need to be so anxious, Princess. It was an honest mistake.” His smile is too amused for the situation, and it unnerves you. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

 “There’s nothing to tell.” You say, wishing your words had come out in the slow and measured way you’d meant for them to. Instead, they’re rushed, hard. 

 Defensive. 

 “Exactly.” Lloyd pops the last of the grapes into his mouth, and claps his hands together in a manner you know is meant to be agreeable. Try to get along, says the needful Ransom in the back of your mind. For me. 

 “I’m going to, um. Go and get dressed.” You gesture loosely at yourself. “If you could send Ransom my way, I’d appreciate it.” 

 “My pleasure.” He purrs. You retreat back to your room, careful not to rush. You feel Lloyd’s eyes on you the whole way, and it isn’t until you’re in the bedroom with the door shut and your weight leaned heavily against it that the feeling dissipates. You’re tying the bandeau on the back of your swimsuit top when Ransom comes in, and for a moment you forget the nagging feeling as he sweeps you into his arms, nuzzling the side of your neck affectionately. 

 “Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re up.” He smooths greedy hands over your hips before tapping your ass sharply through your linen shorts. “Almost makes me want to take you back to bed.” 

 You giggle, slapping at his wandering hands. 

 “I was promised a beach outing,” you reply, reaching around him for the matching blouse. “You can take me to bed after.” 

 “I’ll remember that,” Ransom replies, pulling his own trunks out of his suitcase. He’s already starting to tan, freckles appearing over the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks. You can’t help but inspect him closely, especially after… you shake your head, adjusting your top in the mirror. 

 “You’re staring, baby. Do I have something in my teeth?” He asks, cocking his head at you. 

 “No, no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. There’s nothing to tell. “It’s nothing.” 

 —

 “Baby girl!” Your father sweeps you up into a crushing hug, your mother fluttering around from your left to your right like an excited hummingbird. “You don’t know how happy we are to see you.” He plants an embarrassingly loud kiss on your cheek, and then moves out of the way to allow your mother her turn. Nathalie sucks her teeth from beside you. 

 “Where’s my warm welcome?” She complains jokingly, crossing her arms. “Am I chopped liver or something over here?” Your mother clucks her tongue at your sister over your shoulder. 

 “We see you every Sunday for dinner Nathalie,” she says, and over her shoulder you see your father roll his eyes. 

 “Yeah, and every time you need money.” He gripes, but moves to hug her anyway. 

 “Now that is a grossly unfair assessment of my character,” Nathalie sniffs, ignoring your father’s outstretched arms in favor of giving him a cold handshake. He laughs, and you wonder if the booming sound of it travels all the way back to the gate from here. Your father has always been a cheerful man, and you see that the long trip hasn’t dulled that disposition. The only thing that seems to be putting a damper on his mood is—

 “Sir. I trust your trip was comfortable,” Ransom says, leaning forward to shake your father’s hand. He regards your husband with a cool, muted smile before returning the gesture. You aren’t sure why your father—and your brother, who has disappeared from the back of the shuttle with your sister-in-law—have taken such a dislike to him. It had been tough work convincing him that Ransom wasn’t just some rich weirdo looking for a good time, and to be quite honest, you aren’t sure if he’s entirely convinced, even now. 

 “It was.” 

 You could cut the fucking tension with a knife, you think, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. 

 “So, um. Are you guys hungry? And where’s Don? He and Kathy have been looking for a bathroom for like, ever,” you mutter, unable to resist trying to diffuse the tension with chatter. If your father was cool on Ransom, you knew he actively disliked Lloyd. 

 Getting piss-drunk at my wedding didn’t fucking help, you think grimly, looking between your dissatisfied father and your husband. You know Ransom—he isn’t going to bow and scrape for your father’s approval. And, you’d had this argument before. 

 “We’re going to need help unloading all the bags.” Your mother answers, and you look at her confusedly. 

 “All the bags? Guys this is like, a four day trip.” A disbelieving little laugh escapes you before you can swallow it. “How much did you pack?” Your inquisition is interrupted by the sight of your brother, Nathalie worming her way in between you to point him out. He and his wife are pushing one of the resort’s little dollies, no doubt with the intent of loading it up with suitcases. You peek around the back of the van, and your mouth drops at the veritable mountain of suitcases.  

 “Squirt,” your brother greets you, and you scowl at the nickname. 

 “You have got to stop calling me that. We’re all grown up now, Don,” you say, and he laughs. 

 “When you’re taller than me, we’ll talk about it.” 

 Everyone seems overjoyed to see you, and you wonder guiltily if you really have been away so long. Nat is prone to complaining about the distance between you, but you generally chalked that up to her clinginess. And sure, your mother usually found a way to lament seeing you now on holidays and special occasions, but…

 “I bet you’re all exhausted,” Lloyd replies, interrupting the chain of your thoughts. “Why don’t we get you guys unpacked—we’ve got reservations in town at nine.” You turn to look at him in confusion. No one had told you about dinner reservations. And by the easy smile on Ransom’s face, he certainly isn’t surprised by the news, and neither is Nathalie. 

 You seem to be the only person out of the loop. 

 Ransom squeezes your hand, drawing shapes on the back of it with his thumb as you all make your way into the main villa for coffee and presumably awkward chit-chat. About as soon as you walk inside and kick off your flip-flops, Nathalie drags your mother and Kathy off to take in the amazing view, leaving you alone with the men. They seem about as eager to talk to each other as you are to play mediator, and you leave them in awkward silence to get ready for dinner. 

 When Ransom edges into the bedroom, you’re already dressed, sweeping your hair up into a messy, loose bun. He hums with approval as he approaches you, smoothing his hands appreciatively over your bare shoulders. His lips follow, and you can’t help but giggle. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and Ransom’s playful smile turns smarmy as you watch his gaze travel down to your breasts, pushed up by the bra you’re wearing. 

 “You look good enough to eat.” 

 “You like it?” You ask, turning to face him, and he chuckles. 

 “If we hadn’t already made dinner plans…” He trails off, cupping your cheek with one palm. Ransom’s fingers trace down the side of your throat, catching at the delicate silver chain nestled there. The pendant rests just above your breasts, a tear-drop shaped sapphire winking in the light from the vanity. It was Ransom’s first birthday gift to you, the first one of many extravagant displays of affection.

 “You should wear your bracelet,” he says, nodding at Lloyd’s gift. You haven’t put it on since he’d given it to you, and you wonder if Ransom’s suggestion is because he’s noticed. “It would match with your necklace.” He picks it up, and begins fastening it around your wrist without your input. You eye yourself skeptically in the mirror when he’s finished, holding up your arm so that you can see the jewelry together. It does match—absurdly well. Even down to the little leaf designs on the prongs holding the stones in place. 

 Weird.

 It does look nice with the flowy, silky taffeta dress you’re wearing to dinner. 

 “I still can’t believe how much this cost,” you mutter. The stones sparkle in the light as you turn your hand. 

 “Oh?” Ransom asks, glancing at you in the mirror as he buttons up his shirt. “How much?” You cock your head at him. 

 “What?” 

 “How much?” He repeats the question casually, like he doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like he’s grown another head. “What,” he asks with a little laugh. “Lloyd tell you not to tell me, or something?” 

 “Fif—It was fifteen-thousand dollars, Ran.” You know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. “You told me.” Like something clicks in his brain, Ransom makes an oh face, and then smacks a hand against his forehead. 

 “Ugh. Jet-lag,” he says, shaking his head. “I forgot.” He smiles at you warmly in the mirror as he finishes buttoning up his cuffs. You want to chalk it up to his rich upbringing, after all, fifteen-thousand dollars is a paltry sum to someone with Thrombey money. Easy to forget. 

 Isn’t it? 

 You and Ransom greet your parents in the living area, and both they and your brother and sister-in-law look much refreshed. Lloyd is there too, Ransom’s spitting image in perfectly reversed colors. You know you shouldn’t feel… a way about him looking at you, about his eyes traveling slowly down the bodice of your dress to where your hands are clasped in front of your belly. His brows rise a fraction at the sight of the bracelet, and the corners of his mouth turn up in a little grin. You’d describe it as almost triumphant—but it’s gone just as quickly as it had come, and you’re left wondering if you’d even seen it at all. 

 “Are we all here and ready?” Ransom asks, and the quiet murmur in the room ceases. You’re still not quite sure how he does that, how he commands all of the attention in a room with no effort at all. 

 “No, we’re missing Nathalie—where is that girl? I’m starving,” your mother replies, beginning to dig into her purse for her phone. As she pulls it out, Nathalie rushes through the sliding door to the patio, still tugging on her shoes. 

 “Sorry, sorry, I was on the phone with Jaiden,” she mutters in apology, rolling her eyes. “He is so clingy.” She smooths her hands over her dress, and then claps them together. “But I am ready to go! Starving.” Your family begins moving outside toward the cars, and Nathalie slides her arm through yours. 

 “If he’s so clingy, why didn’t he come with?” You ask suspiciously, and she rolls her eyes a second time. 

 “He… would have. I just, I don’t think, um. Meeting the family is the best idea. We’re not, you know. Serious.” You poke her with one outstretched finger as you walk, and she swats at your hand in protest. 

 “Does he know that?”

 She snorts. 

 “He should. We don’t do anything but f—study.” She looks quickly in your father’s direction. He’s busy getting into Ransom’s rental, but you know that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening carefully. 

 The ride to the restaurant is a quiet one. You can’t quiet your thoughts no matter how much you try, and it’s noticeable—your mother tries to fill the gap in the conversation left by your absence, trying in vain to get your father to acknowledge Ransom’s conversation hooks with more than terse one-liners.

Fifteen-thousand dollars. You don’t know why you’re still thinking about it but you are, turning the thought over in your head as if it were a pebble in your shoe. 

 Fifteen-thousand dollars. You would think it was a sum you wouldn’t soon forget—but Ransom had. It wasn’t just that he had forgotten—when you’d been on the plane, he’d delivered the dollar amount with offhanded familiarity, it just didn’t… it didn’t make sense. Does it have to? 

 It feels like you’ve only just gotten into the car when you’re piling back out of it again. The restaurant is like something out of a movie, set into the cliffside as the sound of crashing waves echoes up from the rocks below. You lean over the railing, marveling at the sight of the moon’s face reflected in the dark, shifting waters. 

 “Oh you look so pretty,” Nathalie gushes, reaching for her phone. “Let me take a picture—Ransom get in here, God,” she gestures at your husband. “This is a Kodak moment.” The smell of him is comforting and familiar as he presses close, tucking you into his body as he tilts your head up for a kiss. “Aww, that’s cute. Stay just like that!” He brushes his lips against yours, a soft laugh puffing across your cheeks. 

 “Bossy, isn’t she?” He asks, and you laugh too. 

 “I think we’ve had this conversation.”

 Ransom wouldn’t lie to me. You’re still thinking about it—fifteen-fucking-thousand dollars—how could you not be? But you want to believe him. After all, what would he have to gain by lying? You lean forward and kiss him fully, and you feel his fingers sink appreciatively into the curves of your hips through the layers of your dress. He wouldn’t. 

 “Alright, alright lovebirds, I’ve got enough pictures,” Nathalie says. Ransom kisses you one more time—out of spite, you’re sure—before he grabs your hand, and you make your way into the restaurant with your family. 

 “I had the terrace reserved,” Lloyd says, a haughty sort of pride evident in the words. No one else seems to notice or mind, though. Your mother gasps appropriately at the sight of the candlelit table, and as she and Nathalie titter about how beautiful it is, you swear you see Lloyd’s head inflate two sizes. 

 “It’s just lovely,” your mother gushes, trailing her fingers along the silky tablecloth. The plates are all ceramic pieces, and you can tell they’re handmade, probably by a local artist. There are seashells set along the table too, in between the place settings and around the glasses. 

 “It is lovely,” you say, admitting it begrudgingly as Lloyd basks in your praise. “Thank you, Lloyd.” 

 “Anything for you, Princess.” He purrs. “We’re all family now.” His grin makes something cold settle at the base of your spine, and you watch as he turns to the host. “A bottle of Prosecco for the table, please.” He leans in close, and whispers loudly, “And a bottle of sparkling cider, please.” You wince. Your parents are also still blissfully unaware of your condition, and you certainly don’t want LLoyd tipping them off. You glare at him, but either he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care as he gestures at the the table. 

 “Please, sit, everyone.” Lloyd holds court like Ransom does, and you hate to admit that you find him equally enthralling. He’s just as good at telling stories, at commanding rapt attention, just like your husband. Ransom pulls out a chair for you, and you feel your face heat. He still makes you feel like a giddy newlywed, even though you’re staring down the barrel of two years in just a couple of months. You sit, and Ransom takes up residence at your right. Much to your chagrin, Lloyd sandwiches you in on the other side. 

 You stop yourself from shooting him a sharp look—there aren’t any assigned seats at this table, and unfortunately for you, it seems like no one else is privy to your discomfort, all seating themselves without issue. You try to ignore him, propping open the menu. There are little English translations underneath the Greek, and you squint, trying to see them in the low light. 

 “Would you like some help, Princess?” Lloyd asks, and you hate that his voice manages to be silky smooth even through the thickness of his Boston accent. A glance at Ransom tells you he’s trying to engage your brother, and surprisingly doing a fair job of it without your help. Lloyd’s thigh brushes up against your own as he scoots closer, his arm going around the back of your chair while he leans in close. 

 He smells like Ransom.

 The thought is unsettling. They’re probably wearing the same cologne or something, but either way, you don’t like not having an additional physical tell. 

 “All of the seafood is down here —no fish for you, though, right, Princess?” He hums amusedly. “Red meat here, chicken here, pasta, and salads.” 

 “Thank you.” You smile curtly at him retreating a few inches to the other side of your seat. To your dismay, he follows. His fingers brush your bare shoulder as he presses in tighter. You know that to anyone looking, it seems like he’s helping you. You aren’t sure why you feel differently, like there’s a different sort of intent simmering underneath his innocent touches. 

 “Oh, any time.” He lingers for another second or two before settling himself firmly back into his seat. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

 Fifteen-thousand dollars. You purse your lips, pushing the thought back out of your head with effort. Ransom’s hand covers yours, and you turn to him gratefully. The conversation around the table falls to a low hum as the waiter approaches. When the orders are all taken, you see a look pass between Ransom and Lloyd, one you don’t understand. A thin tendril of jealousy curls in your gut, even though you don’t want it to. They’re brothers, twins, of course you can’t be privy to every aspect of their relationship. 

 It doesn’t stop the sting, though. 

 Ransom stands, clearing his throat as he clasps his hands behind his back. 

 “I just wanted to thank you, Phil, Bonnie, Don, Kathy, Nathalie, for joining us. Family is… very important to me, to my brother and I,” he gestures at Lloyd. “And I know blending two very different families is difficult, at best.” He looks at your father when he says it, and to your surprise, he nods. Ransom produces a black velvet box from his pocket. You feel your breath catch in your chest as he turns to you. 

 “When we first started dating, I remember you told me you were looking for something solid. Something forever, and I quote ‘like my parents have.’” Your eye darts quickly over to your parents to gauge their reaction. Your mother’s lips curve up into a soft smile, and even your father looks rather touched. “You told me about how hard things were, when you were younger, the way your parents sacrificed everything to make sure that you could stand here, with me, now, and I thought to myself ‘those people gave me the greatest gift, and they don’t even know it’.” He laughs, shaking his head a little. 

 Ransom pushes his chair out of the way, and walks around to the other side of the table where your mother is sitting. 

 “This is for you. It isn’t anything compared to what you’ve given me,” Ransom looks lovingly at you and warm pride fills you at the sight. “But it was the best I could do.” He places the little jewelry box in front of her. “Please, open it.” 

 “You really didn’t have—” Your mother goes silent, covering her mouth with one hand as she looks at your father. “Phillip, I…” 

 “How did you get this?” Your father’s voice is tight with emotion as your mother reaches with trembling fingers into the box. Threaded between her fingers is a delicate silver chain, with a heavy looking pendant—a locket, hanging from it. You recognize it, but only because you’ve seen it about a dozen times in all of the family albums. 

“We-we sold this.” He lets a disbelieving little laugh as your mother holds it up. “We had to. Two babies, and another on the way—we couldn’t let them cut off the power, or the heat, so…”

 “It was my grandmothers,” your mother’s voice is thickly laced with tears as she places it carefully back into the box. 

 “Well, when she told me that, I thought maybe I could track it down. I had to enlist my brother’s help, of course,” he says, nodding in Lloyd’s direction. “Couldn’t have done it alone.” 

 Lloyd nods graciously in a way that tells you he’s pleased. “Amazing the things you find when you’ve got high enough clearance.” 

 He winks. Your mother is openly crying now, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin so as not to muss her makeup too much. To your astonishment, your father’s eyes are wet too. And though he doesn’t shed any tears, you don’t mistake it for anything less than complete astonishment and gratefulness. He stands up and sniffs, his mustache wiggling above his lip as he walks over to your husband and hugs him, clapping him loudly on the back. 

 “Welcome to the family.” He pats Ransom again between the shoulders with a clap. “Son.” 

 Fifteen-thousand dollars. 

 Your father nods at Lloyd before sitting back down, and your mother carefully tucks the jewelry box into her purse. 

 “Government clearance, huh?” Don says, nodding respectfully at Lloyd. “What’s that like?” 

 Ransom sits back down beside you, and you turn to him, squeezing his hand as he settles back in. Servers come out with drinks, and suddenly the table seems more lively than it was ten minutes ago, the terrace brighter and more welcoming against the starry night and dark sea. You feel somehow disconnected from it all, though, as though a glass pane stands between you and everyone else as the thought rings again in your unwilling head—fifteen-thousand dollars. 

 “I can’t believe you found that for my mom,” you say quietly, and Ransom smiles at you, shrugging. “That was like, ten Christmases worth of gifts all in one.” 

 “Do you think that means I can skip ten Christmases?” He asks, and you laugh, shoving at his arm. 

 “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 “I didn’t know if we were going to be able to get it. Plus I didn’t want Nathalie getting it out of you.” You know you should feel happy, this is a big stride, and a happy night. You want to be happy. And most of all, you want to believe. You want to more than anything. Because you already know where you’ll end up if you don’t. 

 You know where the thin, winding thread of that distrust leads, and you don’t even want to think it. It’s such a silly chain of if, then’s that you don’t want to follow it all the way through to the end, not when you can be happy. 

 Because if Ransom is lying, then it wasn’t him on the plane at all—

 It was Lloyd. 

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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[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.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Court Of Public Opinion - Andy Barber x Reader (Part 2)

A/N: This is the sequel series to Memory Served and will contain major spoilers for that series so go read that one first if you haven’t already!

Summary: Back home with Andy you begin the process of returning back to normal after everything

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: Language! Angst! Talk of Pregnancy! Fluff! 

Dividers by me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 2

The sun was blinding as you stepped outside. Even raising your hand to block the rays did nothing to clear your vision. You tried to take a step forward but stumble, tripping over some material. Looking down you find yourself shrouded in white fabric, you try to kick it away but it doesn’t work, it just gets more tangled.

The more you struggled the worse it got, the material becoming suffocating as it crept further up your body. It seemed to slither like a snake up your body, binding your hands together, pinning your arms to your body.

Gasping for air you tried to scream out for help, for anyone to come and save you. But you’re voice was gone, the material completely trapping you. Your body a prison for your screaming mind.

Your vision began to clear, the blinding light disappearing behind a dark cloud. You look down at yourself to see the white material trapping you was a wedding dress. Your arms were no longer pinned, your mouth uncovered but you were still trapped, your voice silenced.

Looking back up you could see the entire Thrombey family stood waiting for you. Ransom stood in the middle under an arch in a black tux. He gives you a lopsided smile before slowly walking up the aisle towards you.

You wanted to back up, you wanted to scream and run away but you couldn’t. You were frozen in place.

“Hey Kitten, it’s okay,” he says softly his hand cupping your cheek, making you mentally flinch “This is the right thing, it's where you belong, we want our future together right?” He continues his hand dropping to your waist, thumb brushing over your abdomen.

You tried to shake your head, push him away but your body refused to move. You could only watch as a smile grew on his face as he leaned down. The screaming in your head got louder with every inch he moved closer, your stomach turning and flipping.

You woke with a start just as his lips met yours. Your hand clutched your chest as you tried to control your breathing. Your eyes darted around the dark room, the quiet beeping from monitors reminding you that you were in the hospital. A shiver ran through your body, your blanket wrapped around your legs from where you’d turned and tossed in your sleep.

Glancing over at the clock you could see only an hour has passed since you last woke. Despite how exhausted you felt you couldn’t sleep for long. You really tried once Andy and your parents left, but you just couldn’t. Every hour or so you’d wake in a blind panic, your mind cruelly replaying the last 4 months, seeing Ransom’s face smiling back at you, seeing the sinister glint in his eyes. Even though you knew Ransom was in custody you were terrified that he’d find a way to take you back.

You gave up trying to fall back asleep, just staring out the window and watching the sunrise. You’d try and get some sleep when Andy was back when he could protect you. Make sure that no harm would come to you.

You were still staring out the window when the door opened and a nurse walked in carrying a tray full of food “Hi, did you sleep well?” She smiled kindly.

“Yeah,” you lied as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position.

“Oh wait here let me help you” she says quickly moving to help you, fluffing your pillows.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

She gives you another kind smile and pulls the tray at the end of the bed closer to you. She pours you a glass of water, setting the glass down next to your tray.

“How are you feeling? Anything hurt?” She asks as she looks through your charts and checks the monitors around you.

“Sore but okay,” you say as you look down at your breakfast, your stomach turning at the sight of it.

“Okay,” she nods putting your chart away, frowning slightly when she sees you pushing your food around “You okay? Not hungry?” She asks

You shake your head “Not really” you mutter.

“That’s okay, loss of appetite is common after experiencing a traumatic event” she reassures you “Just eat what you can, you’ll need it for your strength and it will help you recover quicker, your stats are good but your doctor will want you to have eaten something before he discharges you”

You nod your head “Okay, I’ll try”

She smiles warmly down at you “Good, I’ll be back shortly to check on your stitches and re-bandage your leg” she tells you as she makes her way out of the room.

You let out a long sigh staring down at your breakfast. You took a deep breath trying to ignore the turning feeling in your stomach. You grabbed the plastic fork and scooped up a decent amount of scrambled egg. You had only raised it to your mouth when you smelt it and instantly gagged. The fork clattered down to your plate, your fist covering your mouth as you tried to stop yourself from vomiting.

Once the feeling began to pass your reached out with shaking hands to grab your water, taking a small sip to get rid of the stale taste in your mouth. Looking down at your food you felt nauseous just at the sight of it so you pushed the tray as far away as possible.

You had never been a picky eater, if anything you could be quite adventurous. You liked having scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast, you knew this hospital food wasn’t going to be the nicest but you should have been fine.

You slumped back in your bed in defeat, telling yourself that you’d try again later once the nausea had passed. As you relaxed your hands moved to rest across your stomach, the motion making you freeze. Your mind running at a million miles per hour as you tried to convince yourself it was nothing, but you couldn’t.

In your dream Ransom had mentioned a future together, his thumb had brushed over your stomach. A motion that would seem strange if it wasn’t for a reason. During your time with him, Ransom said you had an IUD, but you know now that he was lying.

What if your nausea and dream meant something? All the dreams you had with Ransom had been memories trying to break you free. What if this dream was also trying to tell you something? What if Ransom wasn’t only trying to trap you in marriage but with a child too? So that if you ever remembered who you were forever attached to him.

You were startled when the door opened and the nurse walked back in. She glanced down at your plate to see you had barely touched it, giving you a sympathetic smile “Hospital food is never the nicest” she reassures you.

You just give her a weak nod, nervous to even open your mouth just in case.

She begin to check over the cut on your leg, making sure it wasn’t infected. She was just redoing the bandage when you felt brave enough to talk.

“If I needed to see a doctor about something, could I ask you to get them?” You ask quietly.

Her brows furrow slightly as she looks back up at you “Yes, do you know what kind of doctor you need?” She asks.

“An ObGyn,” you say quietly.

Her face soften as she nodded her head “Of course, I’ll page for one urgently” she reassures you, putting her hand on your wrist.

“Thank you” you whisper.

“Not a problem, I’ll take this away but just buzz if you get hungry and I’ll sneak in a jello cup” she winks picking up your uneaten plate of food, managing to get a small smile from you.

Once she was gone you let out a shaky breath of air, trying to stop yourself from crying. You had managed to escape Ransom before he could trap you in marriage, but what if you hadn’t completely escaped him?

“Hi, I’m Dr Roberts you asked to see me?” A kind-looking middle-aged woman in pink scrubs asks walking in.

“Oh uh hi, yeah I uh” you stutter trying to get your words out, your chest feeling tight.

“Breathe,” Dr Roberts says gently, demonstrating a deep breath.

You follow her lead, taking a few deep breaths before finally feeling able to speak once more “I’m worried I might be pregnant” you admit.

Dr Roberts nods her head slowly “Okay, have you had unprotected sex?” She asks you.

“I-I don’t really know, yes? I know I take the pill, but… Ransom he- he told me I had an IUD” you explain stuttering.

Dr Roberts nods her head in understanding “I see, well I can send some of the blood samples that were taken yesterday off for testing, that will be the most accurate way to tell” she tells you “Do you want to talk options now? Or do you know what you want to do?”

“I can’t keep it, I just can’t” you state shaking your head.

“Okay, I’ll make sure the correct procedure is scheduled if the results are positive, would you like to go back onto the pill if it’s negative?” She says glancing down at your chart.

“Yes please” you nod your head.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon,” she says with a gentle smile before walking back out of the room.

As she does so you see Andy standing in the corridor about to enter the room. You swallow nervously as he looks up and down at Dr Roberts giving her a quick nod before walking in. You’d hoped that you could find out and deal with whatever the outcome was without having to tell him. You’d seen how difficult for him to hear what you’d done with Ransom. You wanted to save him future pain but that option was already gone.

“Hey is everything okay?” He asks taking your hand and gently kissing your knuckles.

“Please don’t be mad” you start squeezing his hand “They’re just checking in case I’m pregnant, he- he told me I had the IUD”

Andy lets out a long sigh shaking his head “Sick bastard” he muttered under his breath, he forces a smile putting his other hand over yours, you noticing the bandage that wasn’t there yesterday “Whatever happens I’m going to be standing right beside you, whatever you decide”

“I don’t want it, I can’t have any link to him,” you tell him shaking your head.

“Okay, okay it's okay” Andy reassures you “You don’t have to explain, it's your choice”

You let out a shaky breath, biting your lip as you fought back the tears “Thank you” you whisper.

Andy gives you a brave smile, kissing your hand “Anything for you honey, anything for you”

“What happened to your hand?” You ask nodding to his injured hand.

“It’s nothing” Andy reassures you “I accidentally dropped a glass last night when washing up, cut myself when trying to clear it up”

You knew straight away it was a lie. Andy was not a clumsy person, there was no way that he dropped that glass by accident. It would have been on purpose, you could only guess it was because he was angry, and that you were to blame. You had cheated on him after all.

He then reaches down into the bag he brought with him “I brought you something to eat, hospital food is never nice” he says putting a sizeable brown paper bag down on the tray table, you instantly smell the delicious scent of pastries and your stomach rumbles but you weren’t sure if it was hunger or nausea “I also brought some things from home to make you feel more comfortable” he continues pulling out your favourite blanket and your pillow.

He stands to swap out your hospital pillow for your own and drapes your blanket over you. The scent of home washing over you and all you want to do is snuggle down and fall fast asleep. Your eyes become glassy as you shake your head at his kindness.

“Thank you Andy” you whisper.

Andy gives you a small warm smile as he brushes some hair out of your face “Anything for you honey” he says quietly as he kisses the top of your head, as he pulls away his hand runs down your arm as his fingers intertwined with yours as he sits down on the side of the bed “are you hungry?”

You shake your head gently “No, not yet I’ve only recently woken up” you tell him, it wasn’t strictly a lie, you just hadn’t been asleep for long.

“Okay, it’ll all keep so it's there whenever you get hungry” Andy reassures you.

You give him another small smile before shifting closer and resting your head against him. Your hand slowly running up and down his arms as you let out a long sigh.

“How’s work been?” You ask him after a few moments of silence.

Andy lets out a small huff of a laugh looking down at you “Do you really wanna know?” He asks with a lopsided smile.

You nod your head “Please? I want to hear what you’re up to?”

Andy chuckles gently “Well don’t be mad, but I’ve been working a lot, took on whatever case I could to keep busy, I did an assault case, a burglary case, and most recently a fraud case” he tells you.

“What about that big drug case?” You ask recalling the case he’d been working on before you disappeared.

Andy lets out a long sigh looking down “The guy was prosecuted but I had to step down because…” he says drifting off at the end his eyes meeting yours and you knew exactly what he meant.

“Oh” you mutter “It’s good you won it though”

Andy gives you a small smile nodding his head “Yeah and Neil got fired which made my life easier”

You arch a brow looking up at him “Really? What for?” You ask.

Andy shifted in his seat slightly, clearing his throat “he made some inappropriate comments” he sighs shaking his head.

You could see his jaw clench as he shook his head and you could only guess what those comments were “about me?”

Andy sighs nodding his head “Yeah” he admits quietly.

You run your hand up and down his arm soothingly “I hope you clocked him” you say earning a small chuckle from him.

He gives you a lopsided smile “Got a couple in before Lynn pulled me off him” he smiles.

“I bet she hated having to do that” you smirk.

“Yeah she admitted she’s been wanting to fire him for months,” Andy tells you a smile still on his face.

You were so relieved to see him smile, to have a somewhat normal conversation where you could laugh and smile. A conversation without the heavy dark cloud of the last 4 months lingering over you.

The light air around you disappeared when Dr Roberts walks back into the room. Both you and Andy sit up to attention when you see her. Your eyes scan her face trying to work out what she was going to say before she could even say it. But you couldn’t her poker face was too good.

“Miss Y/L/N I can confirm that your test results all came back as negative” she reports and you hear Andy let out a large unguarded sigh of relief

Glancing up at him you could see just how relieved, his bandaged hand clenching and flexing. You looked down unable to look at him any longer, you hated that you were the cause of his pain, his anger. Guilt washes over you in waves, you were the reason he broke that glass, the reason he’s hurting so much.

“Thank you,” Andy says nodding his head.

Dr Roberts gives you a small smile “I’ve added the pill to your prescription to take home with you later” You could only manage a small nod in response.

You hear the door to your room close as you looked down at your lap, your fingers fiddling. You were relieved that the test had come back negative, you didn’t want to be tied to Ransom forever. You hated that you were even in this situation to begin with, you were so stupid to not question Ransom more, to trust him.

Andy’s hand reaching out to take yours pulled you from your thoughts. You look over as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“It’s all gonna be okay” he reassures you.

You gave him a small nod of your head even though you didn’t believe it. How was it going to be okay? Even if Ransom went to prison for everything he did to you, everything would be different. The person you were before Ransom was gone, you had changed. Andy had fallen in love with the old you, not this version, you wouldn’t blame him if he decided to walk away.

Maybe it would be easier if you set him free “Andy…” you started shifting to face him but you were interrupted by your parents walking in.

“Hi sweetpea, how are you? Did you sleep well?” Your dad asks as he walks over towards you.

You force a smile looking up at your parents “I’m fine” Your eyes met your mom’s and you could tell she knew you weren’t fine, but she didn’t say anything, she just put her hand on your knee and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

Throughout the rest of the morning, you manage to slowly eat some of the plainer pastries that Andy had brought you. Just slowly ripping small pieces off as and when, listening to your parents talk.

“So your father had the bright idea that instead of just taping over the outlets, he’d take the plastic casing off,” your mom says with a small roll of the eyes as he glanced over at your dad.

“Why faff around with tape when you can get crisp lines without” your dad argues shrugging his shoulders.

You smile gently glancing over at Andy to see him trying to hide his laughter, hand running over his beard to cover his smile.

“But then the outlet in the wall slipped so your father just stuck the screwdriver in to lift it up, forgetting the fact that it was still live” your mom continues making your jaw drop.

“Oh my god Dad! Are you okay?” You gasp in shock.

“It was just a minor shock, I’m completely fine” your dad reassures you.

“My freshly painted cream walls however were completely ruined” your mom huffed making you chuckle.

“The scorch mark went halfway up the wall,” Andy told you “Your dad is still banned from decorating”

“I’m sure he’s not complaining about that” you smirk over at your dad, who winks back at you.

A knock on your hospital door grabs your attention, looking over you see Carrie poking her head into the room. She glances around the room before smiling gently back at you. Tears filled her eyes as she rushes over arms outstretched towards you. You instantly accept her hug, not realising how much you’d missed your best friend.

“I’ve missed you so much” she mutters as she pulls away and wipes the tears from her eyes.

“I missed you too” you smile through your own tears squeezing her hand.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again” she lightly scolds making you chuckle.

“I’ll try not to” you promise.

“Here Carrie, you can sit here,” Andy says standing up from his chair.

“Thanks Andy you’re a godsend” Carrie says with a grateful sigh as she moves to sit down.

“Why don’t we go grab lunch for everyone? Let you girls catch up” your mom suggests standing up.

“Good idea, that cafe down the street looked nice” your dad agrees “Andy do you want to join us?”

Andy glances over at you, his brow arched in question. You wanted to say you were fine, but the idea of Andy leaving you made your heart race. Things between you were different and seemed uncertain but you still trusted him to keep you safe. Andy must have seen the look of hesitancy in your eyes before giving you a reassuring smile.

“Uh no I’m gonna hang back, make sure Carrie doesn’t drop me in it for anything” Andy says with a playful smirk making Carrie roll her eyes.

“I can bide my time Barber” she retorts “Not that I have much anyway, I swear you snagged the only perfect man in Massachusetts” she adds under her breath.

You couldn’t help but smile gently because she was right, Andy was perfect. You couldn’t believe that he wanted you, now more than ever. Looking up at Andy you see the small bashful smile on his face as he shook his head, clearly not agreeing with Carrie.

“Okay, we’ll grab you something, Carrie would you like something?” Your dad asks.

“No I’m good thanks, I ate before I got here” Carrie smiles shaking her head.

“Of course, we’ll be back soon” your mom smiles before gently ushering your dad out the door.

Andy moves to the other side of your bed but instead of sitting down in the chairs vacated by your parents, he perched beside you on the bed, his arm resting behind you. You glance up at him, earning a warm smile in response before he leans down to kiss the top of your head.

As you looked back over at Carrie you see the sad but warm smile on her face. Once you were so familiar with now. The smile that said they were happy and relieved you were back, but so devastated at what had happened.

“I won’t ask if you’re okay” Carrie starts earning a small smile from you “but if you need anything, and I mean anything at all, I’ll be right there for you”

“Thank you Carrie, that means a lot,” you say quietly, her hand squeezing yours “So how are things? Been busy in the office?” You ask desperate to change the subject.

Carrie lets out a quiet chuckle “Good, a little busy but we’ve managed, the series launch party went really well” she tells you.

“Oh that’s good, I wish I’d been there,” you say with a small sigh.

“It's fine you didn’t really miss much, lots of boring schmoozing” Carrie says with a small wave of her hand.

You chuckle gently nodding your head “How’s Harrison?” You ask.

“Still a man-child” she says rolling her eyes “but he got a promotion recently which is great, perfect timing to have some extra cash” she smiles.

“Thinking of going on a holiday with it?” You ask her shifting to face her more.

She smiles gently shaking her head “Not really, we are planning on getting away for a week in a couple of months' time but we booked that before the promotion” she explains “But we are putting it towards something pretty amazing” she adds reaching into her handbag and passing something over to you.

You turn the sheet of paper over, your breath catching when you saw the sonogram “You’re- you’re-“ you stutter unable to say the actual word “How far along are you?” You ask instead.

“Just coming up to four months” Carrie smiles.

“Con-congratulations I didn’t know you guys were trying” you say with a small shake of your head as you pass back the sonogram.

Carrie snorts shaking her head “We weren’t” she states “We’d agreed we were at a place where we were ready if it happened but didn’t want to actually start trying but Harrison’s libido skyrocketed and got me stuck in this situation” she jokes with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh,” you mutter forcing a smile.

You were over the moon for Carrie, you knew she would be the perfect mom. Carrie didn’t know what had happened this morning, you hadn’t even told your parents. If she had, you knew she would have chosen a different way to phrase it.

“Hey is everything okay?” Carrie asks gently, noticing your change in mood.

You glance up at Andy as he shifts awkwardly next to you “We- we uh” he mutters.

“Shit- are you?” Carrie says sitting forward putting her hand on your arm.

“No,” you say shaking your head “I thought I might have been- he- he said I had an IUD, I-I don’t” you explain.

“God the sick bastard” Carrie mutters in disgust “I swear as soon as I see that sick trust fund prick I’m gonna rip him to pieces” she growls.

You let out a weak chuckle at that “Evidently there’ll be a line”

Carrie smiles gently before sighing shaking her head “I’m sorry, if I’d known I would have waited to share the news”

“No, no I’m so happy for you, over the moon really” you reassure her “You’re gonna be an amazing mom”

Carrie smiles warmly back at you “Thank you, we are really excited despite it being a bit of a surprise”

“I’m not surprised” you smile “But um we decided not to tell my parents, they’ve been through enough and the test was negative so I don’t want them to worry over nothing”

Carrie nods in understanding zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key “secret is safe with me” she promises.

“So how has it been so far, morning sickness wasn’t too bad was it?” You ask hoping to show just how excited you were for her.

“It was rough for a couple of weeks, but poor Nova the smell of dog food just would set me off, Harrison had to make sure he wasn’t late home from work so he could feed her dinner because I couldn’t be in the same room at it,” Carrie says shaking her head, hand over her mouth making you smile since you knew their german shepherd had an appetite of a horse “I swear Nova is getting broody though, I caught her gathering all her toys onto her bed and cuddling them like they were her pups, Harrison says it’s nothing but I swear if he doesn’t hurry up and get her spayed we’re gonna have pups and a baby to contend with”

“That does sound like it could be a handful, a cute handful but still” you chuckle.

“Yeah I would love her to have pups, she’s a sweet German shepherd and I bet she’d have some gorgeous pups” Carrie sighs “guess we could just make sure she’s on the lead when in season so we don’t have any accidents”  she reasons thinking out loud.

“Just hope there isn’t a dog equivalent of Harrison out there” Andy jokes making the three of you chuckle, a warm smile on his face when you look up at him.

“We’re clearly missing out on a joke here” your father smirks as he walks in with your mom carrying coffees and lunch.

“Oh leave them be” your mom scolds as she walks over to you, passing you a small tub “I got you some pasta salad, eat as much or as little as you like” She smiles.

“Thanks Mom” you smile taking the fork she offered.

Your mom smiles as she leans in to kiss your forehead “It’s nothing dear, we’re all here for you and will help you get through this everything will go back to normal I promise” she whispers.

You look up at her as she pulls away, her word’s hitting deeper than she probably realised. You glance up at Andy who was sipping on the coffee your dad had passed him, a smile on his face as your dad told him about the old lady ahead of them in the queue who insisted on paying in coins. Only this morning you were considering letting Andy go, but maybe your mom was right. Maybe you could go back to normal, maybe you and Andy would be alright. But you wouldn’t know if you didn’t try and pushing him away when you needed him most wasn’t going to help.

“Thanks Mom” you smile, resting your hand on top of hers “I needed to hear that”

By 5 pm the hospital finally discharged you and allowed Andy to finally take you home. As he drove you home he kept glancing over to make sure you were okay, finding you just looking out of the window with an unreadable look on your face. He wanted to reach out to take your hand but you held them out of reach. Your chin resting in one hand, the other tucked away as you hugged yourself.

When he pulled up outside the house he heard you let out a deep and shaky sigh as you looked up at the house. Andy put the car in park and turned off the engine. Shifting over to face you he went to reach out to you but hesitated for a moment, second-guessing himself and whether you’d be okay with him touching you, before eventually gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked quietly when you looked over at him.

You gave him the smallest of nods as you swallowed “Yeah, yeah I’m glad to be home” you whispered.

Andy smiled gently nodding his head “I’m glad you’re home too” he says earning a small smile from you.

Climbing out of the car he grabbed the bag from the trunk. As he shut the trunk he could see you had also climbed out of the car, standing with your back to him as you stared up at the house, arms wrapped around your waist.

Walking over he stopped beside you “C’mon let's get inside and get you comfortable” he says.

You nod in response allowing him to wrap his arm around your waist to support you as you limped up the path. He carefully helped you inside the house, taking you straight to the couch so you could sit down.

“Do you want a drink? Water or something?” Andy asked once you were settled.

“Water please,” you say your eyes wandering around the room.

Andy nods heading straight into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, his hands shaking slightly as he filled the glass. When he returned he crouched down in front of you as he passed you the glass, watching as you took a couple of small sips before holding the glass in your lap. Potentially to stop your uninjured leg from shaking.

“How you feeling?” Andy asked after a moment.

You took a deep breath glancing around the room “I never thought I’d be so relieved to be somewhere I recognised” you admit, when you look back over at Andy he could see your eyes turning glassy.

He moved in an instant, sitting beside you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as you sniffled back your tears, reminding and reassuring you that you were safe, you were home, and everything was going to be okay.

The sound of Andy’s phone ringing broke the silence in the room. Pulling out his phone he looks down to see it was Frank FaceTiming him. Glancing over at you he sees you already looking down at his phone, the ghost of a smile on your face as you looked at the caller ID photo of Frank and Mary.

“Do you want to talk to them now? Or later, I can say you’re resting up” Andy offers.

You take a deep breath nodding your head, quickly wiping away the last of your tears “Yeah, do I look okay? I don’t want to worry Mary” you ask.

The corners of Andy’s lips twitch upwards “You look beautiful, always do” he smiles gently as he swipes to answer the call.

“Hey, you’re back home, how’s Y/N?” Frank asks when the call connects.

“I’ll let her tell you herself” Andy smiles turning the phone so Frank could see you.

“Hey Frank, I’m doing fine it’s really nice to see you,” you say smiling gently.

“I’m really glad to hear it, it’s great to see you home and safe” Frank smiles.

“Is that her?!” You hear Mary exclaim, both you and Andy chuckling when she jumps onto the couch next to Frank “It is! I’ve missed you so much!”

Andy looks over at you, smiling as you smiled back at Mary. It was the first real smile he’d seen from you and he couldn’t be happier.

“I’ve missed you too sweetie” you smile “How’s school?”

“Normal school is a bit boring, but my university classes are fun” Mary says shrugging her shoulders.

“Good I hope you haven’t been giving your uncle too much grief,” you say with a knowing look.

“Nope,” Mary says shaking her head.

Frank rolls his eyes “No more than usual she means” he corrects making the both of you chuckle.

“So how are you guys? Have you earnt any more girl scout badges Mary?” You ask.

“3! Wait there, I’ll go get them,” Mary says before dashing off and out of shot.

“We’re good, plugging along, I’m just trying to find a good time to get up to see you guys, between my work schedule, Mary’s classes and mother’s schedule it’s proving a bit of a head-scratcher” Frank sighs as he scratches at his beard.

“Don’t worry about your mother, you can stay with us” you say shaking your head, Andy hums in agreement.

“Yeah we have plenty of room here, and it’ll save you a headache” Andy adds earning a huff of laughter from Frank.  

“It’s fine really, I don’t want to give you any hassle or crowd you” Frank sighs shaking his head.

“You won’t be” Andy states “It’ll be nice to see you both… be good for us” he says with a small sigh as he glances over at you, if just seeing Mary manage to make you smile, Andy could only imagine the good it would do to have her here.

“Yeah…” you mutter glancing over at Andy for a second before looking back towards Frank “It’ll be good” you agree quietly, your arms crossing, one hand rubbing your arm.

Frank glanced between Andy and you, his brows furrowing for a second before he nods “Yeah okay, well um I’ll have a look at my work schedule, see when I have a spare weekend” he agrees just before Mary reappears jumping back onto the couch making Frank huff.

“I earnt my pets badge for taking Fred to a meeting, he was very popular,” Mary says holding up the badge for you to see.

Andy watches as the smile returns to your face “Well he is a very cool one-eyed cat” you smile.

You continued to listen to Mary talk about what she’d been up to, Andy watching you the entire time. Relaxing back into the couch for the first time in months, a soft smile on his face as he saw you open and seem more like yourself.

When he heard a knock on the door he quickly jumped up, promising to be right back as he went to go see who it was. He expected it to be your parents even though they said they’d let you settle back in tonight before visiting. The lighter mood that filled the house disappeared when he opened the door and saw the detectives standing outside.

“Mr Barber” Elliot greets with a small nod of the head.

“Detective, are you here with an update?” Andy asks with a small sigh.

“A small one, yes” Elliot nods “May we come inside”

“Uh yeah sure,” Andy says stepping aside to let them im, he leads them towards the living room pausing when he heard your soft laughter “Just wait here a second,” he says holding up his hand.

The detectives nod their heads, Andy lets out a small sigh as he steps inside the living room stopping behind the couch behind you.

He puts his hand on your shoulder as he leans over to whisper in your ear “The police are here, they have an update”

The smile on your face instantly disappears as you look over your shoulder at him, swallowing as you nodded your head “Okay” you mutter your voice barely above a whisper.

Andy gives you a reassuring smile as he rubbed your shoulder before turning his attention back to Frank and Mary “Sorry guys we’re gonna have to go” he says to them.

“Not a problem, we understand” Frank says giving Mary a pointed look when she went to complain “Call us whenever you need okay? We’re here for you guys”

“Thanks, Frank, I’ll talk to you soon,” you tell him with a small nod and tight smile.

Frank nods his eyes darting to Andy with a small smile before the call disconnects. Andy lets out a small sigh as he presses a kiss to the top of your head as he stands to beckon the detectives in.

“Please have a seat,” Andy says gesturing to the couch.

“No need, we unfortunately don’t have much to share” Elliot says with a small sigh glancing over at Detective Wagner.

“CSI were able to identify enough evidence for us to arrest and charge Drysdale, but he wasn’t at home” Wagner explains.

“Where was he? I thought you said he arrested him?” Andy demanded.

“He was at his family home, with his entire family present” Elliot explains.

“Shit” you mutter, dropping your head, hands running into your hair.

“What does that mean?” Andy questions glancing between you and the detectives.

“As we arrested him, he protested his innocence and his family tried to prevent his arrest, it all got a bit heated” Elliot explains with a sigh.

“What did he say? And the family” Andy asks crossing his arms over his chest.

“He said you had been having an affair, that you had chosen to stay with him” Elliot says glancing over at you.

“But that-that’s not true, it’s- it's not, he’s lying!” You stutter shaking your head, your eyes darting over to Andy and back to the detectives.

“We know sweetheart” Andy reassures you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

“We have enough evidence that supports your version of events” Elliot confirms.

“But he’s got his entire family on his side, one of his cousins even live-streamed the whole thing” Wagner explains.

You let out a small huff as you shook your head “Of course they would, they all hated me, except Harlan that is” you mutter.

“He and the nurse remained quiet and inside while we arrested Drysdale,” Wagner said quickly, an excited smile on his face as he spoke about Harlan.

You just hummed nodding your head and hugging yourself tightly as you looked down at the floor.

“We wanted to warn you that it doesn’t seem like Drysdale or his family are going to go down easily” Elliot says glancing between Andy and you.

“What do you mean?” Andy frowns putting his hands on his hips.

“We’re hoping to gather enough evidence that he pleads guilty, but in the instance that he doesn’t, it might be a long trial” Elliot explains with a sigh.

Andy lets out a long sigh hand running down his face and over his beard as he began to pace “How confident are you that you can get him to plead guilty” he says turning back to the detectives.

“Fairly confident, more so if we can prove he orchestrated the accident” Elliot says nodding his head.

But Andy wasn’t convinced, he let out a long sigh shaking his head. Glancing down at you he could see the nervous look on your face. Ransom had already gone to extremes to get you, Andy didn’t doubt he wouldn’t go further to get off free.

“You said the cousin live-streamed it? How far could that go?” Andy questions.

“We stopped it as soon as we could but as far as we can tell his following is predominantly the alt-right, so we aren’t concerned about it spreading into general media” Wagner explains.

“And we won’t be mentioning his name in the statement to the press we’ll release in a few days to announce you’ve been found safe and well” Elliot adds nodding over to you “So currently there’s no link between the two of you as the live stream started after we mentioned the charges”

Andy nods his head “Good, is there anything else?” He asks with a sigh.

“No that’s all, but we’ll let you know about anything we find as soon as we can” Elliot promises.

“Thank you” you mutter glancing up at them.

“Yeah thank you, I’ll um walk you out” Andy says gesturing towards the door.

As the detectives step outside Elliot turns back around to face Andy “We will do all we can to make sure Drysdale goes down for this” he promises.

Andy sighs nodding his head “Thank you” he says before shutting the door.  

Once the door was shut he took a moment to gather himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep long breath. He was angry and frustrated, all he wanted was this to be over, so the both of you could just move on. He wanted it to be simple, for Ransom to be caught red-handed and sent down for his crimes, but it was starting to look like it wasn’t going to be that simple and he hated that.

You’d been through hell already, the thought of you having to go through the trial process where Drysdale’s lawyers would pull apart your testimony in any way they could. Andy knew how tough it was for victims, and if after all that Ransom walked free… Andy didn’t know what he’d do.

Taking a couple of deep breaths Andy turned to walk back towards you only to stop when he saw you stood at the end of the corridor near the bottom of the stairs. Your gaze ran up and down his body as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Honey-“ Andy started.

“I um- I’m just gonna take a shower… freshen up a bit,” you tell him glancing down at the floor.

“Yeah, yeah sure… I could run you a bath if you like? Saves you from standing” he offers gesturing to your injured leg.

“No it's okay,” you say shaking your head “the pain killers seem to be working and I uh- I just want to wash everything away”

Andy nods his head “Of course, let me know when you’re done and I can redo your bandages” he says.

“I will… thanks Andy” you mutter before turning and walking up the stairs out of view.

For a second Andy considered following you, to offer any more help but he stopped himself. You clearly wanted some space and if that’s what you needed then he’d do it. All he wants is for you to be okay and be happy again, even if he did feel at a loss of how to do that.

He waited a moment before quietly making his way up the stairs. As he walked down the corridor he poked his head inside the guest room, finding it in a good enough state in case you wanted to sleep there tonight. Carrying on towards the main bedroom he paused outside the closed door, leaning closer to he could hear the shower running.

His hand raised to the door handle to make sure you were okay but he stopped himself. You needed space, so while he gave you that he’ll find other ways to help you. And he was going to start by getting into the head of Drysdale, and find out his angle so he was prepared in case this went to trial.

Walking back downstairs he poured himself a couple of fingers of scotch before grabbing his laptop and sitting down at the kitchen table. As soon as he opened Google it came up with the article on Ransom he was reading last night. Clenching his jaw he closed that tab and opened another and started researching the rest of Ransom’s family.

It didn’t take him too long to find out that Ransom only had two cousins, a girl called Meg and a boy called Jacob. Typing Jacob Thrombey into Google he found various links to blogs and social media pages. Clicking on the link to Jacobs's Instagram page, Andy logged onto his work profile that he’d use to remain anonymous while gathering information and evidence for his cases.

“Fuck sake” Andy muttered taking a sip of scotch when he saw the Livestream wasn’t available on his page anymore.

Taking a stab in the dark Andy began searching for the livestream on other pages in the hopes that Jacob uploaded it elsewhere. He got lucky when he found it deep on a subreddits page, posted by someone else meaning your name hadn’t been linked to it yet.

Andy took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to watch. He even considered closing the laptop and trying to forget about it but he told himself no, he needed to do this. He needed to make Ransom pay, he needed to help you.

Hitting play on the video he instantly has to turn the volume down as the sound of various people shouting plays from the speakers. It looked like pure chaos as the police tried to escort Ransom out of the house, various members of his family getting in the way and shouting at the detectives.

Andy could feel him getting more and more worked up as he listened to the poison that Ransom’s family shouted about you. Calling you a whore and a gold digger. But what made Andy the most pissed was the role Ransom was playing, the role of the jilted lover. He looked heartbroken and confused as the detectives walked him outside, his head shaking as he told them that this was all wrong. That you loved him, and he loved you. That you had plan’s together, that you were leaving your old life for his.

Ransom was trying to paint you as the villain and earn sympathy. That you had tricked him for his money, leaving him heartbroken. Andy just hoped the world saw sense, and believed you over the lies from this trust fund prick. Because you were the victim, not Ransom and Andy would fight to his dying breath the prove that.

Finishing the last of his scotch in one large gulp he slammed his laptop shut. As he turned to stand up he froze when he saw you stood by the entrance to the kitchen. You watched him with wary eyes as he stood up, your eyes darting to his laptop.

“Ho-honey, are you okay? What do you need?” He asks putting his hands on his hips trying to look as calm as possible.

“You said to let you know when I was done so you could redo my bandages” you remind him quietly.

“Oh yeah, of course, sit down and I’ll grab them” he says picking up his laptop and moving aside to let you sit down.

You nod barely even looking at him as you walked past. Andy puts his laptop away before grabbing the bandages from the bag and making his way back over to you. You were looking much more refreshed than before, your hair slightly damp and tied up in a messy bun as you wore an old hoodie of his and some shorts.

Not a word was spoken as Andy bent down to begin re-doing the bandage around your leg. His jaw automatically clenched when he saw the angry cut across your leg, one he prayed wouldn’t scar. He glanced back up at you when your other leg began to bounce nervously, but you avoided his gaze.

“The um guest room is all set up for you to use if you want to get some rest, or um I can sleep in there if you’d prefer to be back in your own bed” Andy offers as he stands back up and begins packing everything away.

“No” you mutter shaking your head “No I don’t want that I- everything has-“ your face scrunched up as you shook your head “I know I can’t avoid this completely, with the investigation and potentially a trial, but I- I just can’t talk or think about it outside of that, not if I want to feel okay… all I want is for everything to be normal again, like it never happened” you breathe out, eyes opening and finding his.

Andy was speechless for a moment, he wanted to argue because he knew deep down it was a bad idea to just pretend it never happened. But then he remembered how happier you seemed talking to Mary, a conversation that had no mention of Ransom, there wasn’t even the dark cloud of him looming in the background and between the lines. So if pretending it never happened helped you feel okay and be happy in the here and now then he’d do it.

Andy finally nods “Of course Honey” he manages to say as he crouches back down in front of you, resting one hand on your knee “Back to normal” he promises.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, leaning forward to wrap your arms around him “Thank you Andy” you breathed out.

Andy instantly responded wrapping his arms around you, his hand cradling your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck “Anything for you honey, anything for you” he muttered kissing your temple.

He held onto you, gently stroking your back in a soothing manner waiting for you to pull away whenever you were ready. When you did so you gave him a small but sincere smile that made Andy smile straight back, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you hungry for dinner?” Andy asks standing back up.

You give him a small shrug of your shoulders “Not particularly but I should probably try” you tell him.

“Okay well I know there’s some pasta bakes in the fridge and a shepherd’s pie? Do you wanna have a look, pick what you like and I’ll stick it in the oven” Andy suggests gesturing over to the fridge.

“I’m guessing that was my mom’s doing” you smirk standing up and slowly walking over to the fridge.

Andy smiles warmly nodding his head “Yep, she’d always sneak in something whenever she’d visit” he says moving to lean against the kitchen island “So what’s your pick?”

“I think we have to have my mom’s famous tomato and mozzarella pasta bake,” you say pulling it out of the fridge.

“Sounds perfect” Andy smiles walking over towards you “Why don’t you go pick a movie to watch while I stick this in the oven”

“Sounds great thank you Andy” you smile passing him the pasta bake, reaching up to kiss his cheek making Andy’s smile grow.

“It’s nothing, you go relax” he smiles, watching as you made your way back into the living room.

Once dinner was in the oven, Andy followed you into the living room. He smiled to himself as he settled down on the couch and you instantly shuffled closer and relaxed into his side. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head as he relaxed for the first time in months.

Much to Andy’s relief that relaxed feeling remained for the rest of the evening. Maybe acting like the past four months hadn’t happened was a good idea after all, at least for now anyway. When Andy stepped out of the bathroom he smiled gently when he saw you were already in bed flicking through the book that had been sitting on your bedside table untouched for the last four months.

As he walked over and climbed into bed, you slid your bookmark to the front of the book before setting it down on the side “Thank you Andy, for everything” you tell him quietly.

Andy smiles gently wrapping his arm around you, gently pulling you into his embrace “It’s nothing, just… just want to see you happy” he whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

When you look up at him with a soft smile, Andy cupped your cheek and carefully guided your lips up to his. You let out a quiet hum and your lips lingered making Andy want to dive back in but he held back. While you wanted everything to be normal he was going to take everything at your pace, he wasn’t going to rush you.

You didn’t seem to mind, settling down so your head was resting on his chest. One hand resting over his heart. Andy kissed the top of your head before turning off the lights and resting his hand on top of yours.

Even though he was exhausted himself, he waited until he felt you fall asleep in his arms. He watched you for a while, still not truly believing you were back in his arms, terrified he’d wake up tomorrow and find the bed empty. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head reminding himself that this was real. You were back, he was going to make Ransom pay, and everything would be okay.

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This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

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[krirebr]

Updated 4/28/24

Tag lists are open

Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my work is intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.

My asks are always open! 💜💜💜

🖤 Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut

Steve Rogers

What You Can Do For Your Country

Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵

Curtis Everett

I Know I Should Know Better series

Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵

Ransom Drysdale

Psycho Killer AU

Summary: A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵

More Than This series

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. 😥

Andy Barber

Trapped AU

Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤

Johnny Storm

Giving Me a Thrill

A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.

Drabbles and Headcanons

Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤

Jealous Ex Ransom

Sequel 🥵

End

Relax - Jake Jensen

Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵

Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon

Curtis + Possessive

Krismas Party Drabble Masterlist

Moodboards

[wiypt-writes]

Brothers In Arms

Part 8: On A Night Like This

Summary: Ransom and Steve confront the person responsible for the botched hit, which killed Peggy. Having dealt with that particular ‘issue’, the brothers then turn their attention to one another. That’s it, that’s all you’re getting…

Warnings: Bad language, violence, guns, knives, blood, death….

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Mentions of MOB Steve Rogers x Reader. Both are shady…they’re MOB bosses…go figure.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Thank you as always to @spectre-posts ❤️❤️💪🏼

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 7

W/C 5.2k

Steve and Ransom sat in the Audi SUV, hidden from sight in the dark car park of the warehouse that has one been the hub for the Blood Like Wine publishing company. Now, it lay dark and empty, a front for the less legitimate side of the Thrombey family business.

“Think he’s gonna show?” Steve asked and Ransom rolled his eyes.

“He’s no reason not to. He has no idea why Grandpa asked to meet him.”

"You better be right." Steve's tone was threatening.

"And if I'm not..." Ransom’s was of equal measure.

Steve simply scoffed and stared straight out of the windshield.

It was a few moments later when a pair of headlights slowed at the entrance, turning into the parking lot. As the electric barrier opened, Ransom took a deep breath.

“He’s here…”

“Good…” Steve moved and Ransom grabbed his arm.

“We wait, like grandpa said. Let him get inside. Harlan deserves his explanation.”

Steve took a growling inhale through his nose as his eyes rolled in annoyance. "I'm getting tired of your control issues, Hugh."

“And I’m getting tired of the fact you exist.” Ransom drawled back.

The car stopped in front of the small entrance door. As sure as the sun rises in the east, the man they were waiting for stepped out. He was curling his chin into the collar of his coat as he walked into the warehouse. The twins could hear him vaguely shout for Harlan.

“He’s got two minutes.” Steve practically snarled, “as much as you and Harlan might like to believe you’re callin’ the shots, I wanna know why he did what he did.” He took a deep breath, “why he ended up killing my wife.”

"Two minutes...."

Steve looked at Ransom, who stared straight back at him, before he turned away to look out of the window.

Inside the warehouse, Harlan was perched in one of the chairs, which sat round the huge table, the only things that the deserted warehouse now housed. A shout signaled that the man he’d called was here to see him. With a sigh, he waited, watching the double doors. They swung open, and Harlan looked over at the face of the man who had destroyed the remaining thin shreds of hope the Patriarch had of reconciling his at war grandsons.

“Walter…”

"Dad..." Harlan's only remaining son replied. "What's this about?"

Harlan simply slid the photo, which was face down on the table towards him. Walt eyed the 5x7 square and then looked up at his father. With a stoic face, he lifted the image and felt his throat go dry at the black and white contrasted evidence in his fingers.

“I’d like an explanation,” Harlan leaned forward, his fingers lacing together, hands clasped on the table. “Why?”

Walt licked his lips, "necessity."

“Necessity.” Harlan stared back. “Necessity for what, exactly?”

“To get what is rightfully mine.” Walt replied, his tone carried a hint of annoyance.

"What's yours?" Harlan chuckled, his tone flat. "You think that the head seat at the table is yours?"

“It should be!” Walt dropped the photo to the table. “I am your son!”

"You are NOT the son I needed you to be!" Harlan slammed his hand flat on the mahogany surface as he stood threateningly and leaned over, both his hands flat on the table.

Walt scoffed, “have you ever stopped to consider why that is, Dad? You made no secret about the fact Sarah and Linda were your precious little girls, you couldn’t have given a shit about me!” Walt shook his head, his hand running through his hair, “even when Sarah ran away with that fucking prick, Rogers, you welcomed her and his sons back, with open arms. When she died, Linda took them in, and they got everything from you!”

A snort from behind made Walt spin to see his twin nephews stood in the doorway through which he had entered mere moments ago. Identical in everything bar hair colour and their outfits, they stood stock still, eyes flashing dangerously. Ransom’s arms were folded across his chest, Steve’s hands rested against the buckle of his belt.

“I didn’t ask for any of that.” Steve replied, his voice low. “So, what makes you believe that gives you the god given right to-“

“Peggy’s death was an accident…” Walt shook his head, “that hit was meant for you.”

“Oh, well, that makes it okay then.” Steve replied, sarcastically as he took a step into the room. Ransom remained where he was, as he opened his mouth to talk.

“Why Steve?” He asked, his eyes moving from his brother to uncle. “His firm and business was nothing to do with Grandpa. It belonged to my dad, and you had no right to any of that.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve scoffed, his tone and stance menacing as he advanced on Walt. “To frame you… set it up as if this was all your doing. With me dead, and you to blame for it…Granddad would cast you out, or you’d be in prison. Either way, the path would be clear for him. Only it backfired, big time. Because not only did he kill the wrong person, Granddad believed you…just like he always did.”

“And you really believe he thought of all that by himself?” Ransom snorted. “Come on, Steeby, think he’s really that smart?”

“Listen here you little shit…” Walt started but Steve was quick to shove him hard on the shoulder, sending him staggering back.

“No, you’re done talking.” In a flash, Steve whipped the gun from his waistband. “And soon you’re gonna be done breathing too.”

Walt swallowed, his eyes fixed on the barrel of Steve’s gun. He took a deep breath, and his eyes then flicked to Harlan as he started to back away. “Dad…please…”

"This war is on you," Harlan spoke with conviction. "The body count, the destruction, that's you. All because you're a selfish prick who craves attention. My seat never would have been yours. And what happens to you from here, I have no control over.”

Ransom watched Harlan carefully as he tried to keep his emotions in check. This would be tearing the old man in two, but there was no other way. Walt had betrayed him, betrayed the family, their ways, and their code. Anyone who did that ended up six feet under, or in the bay with concrete shoes.

If they were lucky, they’d be dead first.

Walt swallowed, as Harlan’s words sunk in. “Dad…you…you’re gonna just let him…let him kill me?” His voice was a high-pitched shriek, a plea.

“We have a code.” Harlan looked at him, shaking his head. “Family first, family second, and family third. You broke that.” He took a deep breath and shook his head, “I wish it didn’t have to end like this, I really do.”

Walt’s face crumpled, as he realised his fate was all but sealed, and his dad wasn’t going to bail him out. “But Donna…Jacob…”

“Will be taken care of, looked after.” Harlan nodded.

“Please…I’ll…I’ll do anything.” Walt sniffed, “I’ll go, I’ll leave…never to return…dad! PLEASE!”

“We’ve always dealt with our grievances amongst ourselves, you know that.” Harlan looked at Walt sadly. “It’s up to Steve and Ransom now, as to how they see fit to deal with you. It’s their lives and relationships you wrecked. I love you son, I’m your father, I have to. But I don’t like you very much.”

The last moment Walt looked at Steve, a shot rang out as discharge smoke escaped the barrel. None of the men flinched when gun fired. Walt's body fell to the concrete the moment the bullet penetrated his skull.

“Thank you.” Harlan sniffed a little.

“What for?” Steve’s eyes didn’t move from his Uncle’s dead body as it lay on the warehouse floor.

“For making it quick.” Harlan spoke softly, “for not making him suffer.”

“I didn’t do that for you, or for him.” Steve took a deep breath, his head turning towards his grandfather as he lowered his gun. “I was just sick of his pathetic, sniveling and groveling.”

Ransom stood there, each twitch and tick from the other two men under close observation as the warehouse feel silent. Then he raised his arm. The next sound was the cocking click and Steve felt the cold barrel of Ransom’s gun against his temple.

Steve began to laugh, “really? Whilst my back was turned?”

Harlan sighed heavily. “Boys…can’t you see? This…this whole thing, it’s a regrettable set of circumstances but Ransom, put yourself in Steve’s shoes. If it was Y/N who had been killed, you’d have wanted revenge just as much.”

Ransom’s jaw ticked, “she didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

“From what I heard you had a pretty good hand in hurting her yourself…” Steve sneered.

“Because of you…”

“You can never take responsibility for your own shit, can you?” Steve laughed, “it’s always someone else’s fault.”

“Oh, and you can?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Steve turned and stared at his brother, unflinching. “I own my mistakes. And yes…assuming you ordered the hit was one of them. I was wrong. And as for fucking Y/N…as enjoyable as it was, yes, that was wrong too.”

“Ransom…” Harlan spoke again, and Ransom swallowed, and lowered his gun.

*******

A loud and persistent bleeping noise jerked you from where you were sleeping in the chair by Ari’s bed. You glanced over to see your brother, his eyes open wide with fright, and he was gagging, almost like he was choking.

You jumped up, yelling for help as you hit the emergency call button over the top of his bed.

“Hey…” you gripped his hand, “Ari, it’s okay, I’m here…”

His fingers tightened around yours, his face still utterly shocked and before you could say another word, the room was flooded with doctors and nurses alike. You were ushered outside, despite your loud protests where Natasha, Sam and Kabede were waiting.

“Y/N…” Natasha tried to sooth you, but you shrugged her off, your eyes still staring through the window into Ari’s room. You couldn’t see him; he was surrounded by people but then the door opened and one of the nurses you’d come to recognise poked her head outside.

“Hey, it’s okay…” she smiled gently, “he’s just coming round and the breathing tube in his throat panicked him a little, that’s all. He’s fine.”

“He’s going to be alright?”

The nurse smiled. “Well, I’d say so. The Doctor will be able to tell you a little more once she’s finished her checks but, he’s asking for you.”

You let out a small sob and felt Sammy’s arms wrap around you. He rubbed your back before you pulled away and gave him a little smile.

“Go.” he jerked his head towards the room, and you nodded. With a deep breath, and a wipe of your face with your hands, you pulled open the door and stepped in.

Ari immediately looked at you, his eyes blinking heavily, and he smiled. “Hey, Booger.”

His voice was raspy, painful sounding, but to you it was the most wonderful noise you’d ever heard. The voice that had so many times as a child hushed you to sleep from your nightmares when your parents hadn’t been around, the voice that liked to call you and leave dumb messages on your voice mail.

“Oh, Ari…”you sniffed as you hurried to the bed. You leaned down to hug him round his neck, as much as you could that is. You kissed his bearded cheek, reached for his hand. “You scared me so much.”

“I’m fine…” Ari insisted, “ain’t that right, doc?”

The Doctor gave Ari a withering look, which made him pull a face and you spluttered a laugh. “Fine isn’t the word I would use, Mr Thomas. You’re better than you were though, I’ll give you that.”

“How long was I out?” Ari asked.

“Three days, give or take.” you sighed.

“Huh…” he took a deep breath, and then winced, “so, what’s the damage?”

“Several broken ribs, extensive internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen which we had to remove.” The Doctor looked at him, “a few other minor abrasions…overall you were extremely lucky. Had that blade been an inch either side…”

Ari wrinkled his nose, “who needs a spleen anyway? So, when can I get outta here?”

You rolled your eyes as the Doctor let out a sigh. “Not for a while, I’m afraid. We need to keep monitoring you. You’re running a slight temperature which leads me to believe there might be an infection so I’m going to get you on some IV antibiotics to clear anything up. But most importantly, you need to rest.”

“Don’t even think about it.” You sternly shut Ari down as he opened his mouth, fully intending to argue.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine…fine…”

“And now you’re awake, the Police will want to speak to you.”

“What?” your eyes snapped to the Doctor.

“Miss, your brother was stabbed. It’s a serious assault. They wanted to know when he was-“

“It’s okay…” Ari looked at you, “they can come. Be a waste of their time, didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Hmmm, funny that.” The Doctor looked at him, “considering you were stabbed in the front at close range.”

“Must be trauma induced amnesia then.” Ari flashed another smile, and the Doctor rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have the nurse hook your IV up.” She simply shook her head and left.

As soon as she was clear of the room, you turned to Ari. “Don’t worry about the police,” he shook his head.

“I’m not concerned about them; I’m concerned about you! I know it was Barnes that did this. Why, why were you following Steve, Ari? What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Because I wanted to kill him.” Ari scoffed, “after what he did to you…”

You shook your head, “it isn’t worth this.”

“It is to me.”

You sniffed and dropped your head, “I’ve been so scared, so worried that I was gonna lose you too.”

“Hey, I’m here…” Ari squeezed your hands, “and I’m gonna be fine.”

You fell silent for a while, before you looked at him. “You missed thanksgiving.”

“Bummer.”

“I’ll say, hospital sandwiches are gross.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?” Ari frowned.

“Of course, I have, where else would I go? I didn’t wanna go back to yours, not least because we weren’t sure it would be safe.”

“Has Rogers been-“

“No.” You shook your head. “He called me after you’d…after Bucky had…but that’s it. I’ve heard nothing from him.”

“And Drysdale?”

“Saw him yesterday.” You popped a shoulder. “He came here, wanted to leave some security with me. Harlan had already done it, but Ransom doesn’t trust them…I’ve no idea what’s going on but…”

Ari frowned a little, before he took a deep breath. “Where is he now?”

“No idea.” You shrugged. “I’ve lost track of time and…” you trailed off, blinking a little as you stopped yourself from blurting out what you’d talked about.

“And what?”

“He left Natasha with me, with my consent. And then said he wouldn’t call or bother me unless I wanted to speak to him…but…”

“Y/N, what is it?”

“I’m…” you took a deep breath, “I’m pregnant, Ari…”

If it hadn’t been such a serious moment, you would have laughed at the look on your brothers face. The unflappable Ari Levinson wore a look of complete dumbfounded surprise. “You…you’re…”

You nodded, and then bowed your head, “and before you ask, no, I don’t know whether it is Steve or Ransom’s…and no I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet. I only found out earlier this morning.”

“Does Drysdale know?”

You nodded. “Long story but he saw the test…”

“Rogers?”

You shook your head, “no. No one knows bar you, Ransom and me.”

“Right…” Ari licked his lips. “Look…maybe you should let him know I’m awake.”

You blinked, “erm…okay, I mean-“

“He’ll be able to help fend off the police.” Ari looked at you, “there’s only so much my office will be able to do.”

You nodded, “I’ll…I’ll go and do it now.”

“And then, you get her to take you home. You need some proper food, a rest, and a shower. You stink.”

You scoffed, “you’re such a jerk.”

He grinned, “I know.” but then he grew a little more serious. “But I mean it, please. Take care of yourself…come back later on.”

“Ari, I don’t…”

“Please, Y/N. For me.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Thank you.” he smiled softly. You leaned over to kiss his cheek as you stood reluctantly from where you’d been sat on the edge of his bed.

“Food, nap, shower, then I’m straight back. I’ll fetch you some clothes and toiletries, okay?”

“Thank you.” Ari smiled.

With a final squeeze of his hand, you made for the door.

“Booger?” Ari stopped you before you could open it. You stopped and turned back to look at him. “Send Sammy and Kabede in will you, I can see them hovering outside.”

You nodded, before opening the door. “He wants to see you guys.” You smiled, stepping to the side. Kabede and Sammy both stepped in, allowing it to swing shut behind them. You turned to Natasha, “would you mind taking me back to Ari’s for a little while? He says I need a shower and he needs a few things…”

“Of course.” Natasha nodded.

“Oh, and…” You had been about to ask her to call Ransom to let him know that Ari was alive, but you stopped yourself. For some reason you wanted to do that yourself.

“And…”

“Nothing, doesn’t matter.”

Natasha eyed you for a moment, before she simply nodded. “Alright, let’s go, we can take the back route, avoid Harlan’s jokers.”

*******

The air in the warehouse was growing decidedly icier as the two brothers continued to face off against one another.

“Say it.” Ransom glared at Steve, his angry blue eyes not even blinking. “Say you’re sorry.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I just said I was wrong…”

“Steven…” Harlan snapped.

“Okay, okay…” Steve sighed, “I’m sorry, alright. Sorry I…fucked your fiancée…”

Ransom growled and raised the gun again, but he was stopped dead when his phone rang.

It was a ring tone reserved only for one person, so he knew never to ignore it.

You.

The gun still pointed at Steve’s temple, he answered.

“Y/N?”

"Ransom...."

“Yeah?” His voice cracked, “I…is everything okay? Is the…”

His eyes still focused on Steve, he stopped himself dead, having almost slipped up there, and asked about the baby.

"Yes. I'm... I'm okay. We're okay."

“We as in…”

“Me, the baby, Ari…” your voice cracked. “He woke up…”

At that, Ransom took a deep breath, and he looked at Harlan. “Levinson is awake.”

Without waiting for his Grandad to answer, Ransom spoke again. “Does he need anything? Do you?”

“Erm…the police…”

“Don’t worry about that. We can call them off. I’m with my grandpa now, we’ll sort it.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Just…just don’t worry, it’s not…everything’s gonna be okay.” He finished a little lamely. “I-“

“I have to go.” You finished, a little meekly, “He just wanted to let you know he was awake…”

“Yeah, thank you.” His voice was a whisper as once more an overwhelming sadness enveloped him, crushing his chest like a band.

And then the line went dead

“See, all’s well that ends well.” Steve smirked, “big brother lives!”

“No thanks to you.”

“He was following me.” Steve shrugged, “you’d have done the same. Although I’m curious…” his face wore an annoyingly knowing expression as he studied his brother, “what else did you think she meant by ‘we’?”

"It’s of no concern to you," Ransom faltered just a bit with a quiver in his voice.

Steve noticed the display of emotion and cocked his head to one side, grinning. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me! I was only half-serious but…really? She’s pregnant?”

Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw tick as Steve suddenly started to chuckle. Besides them both Harlan groaned.

“What a plot twist this is, Ranny! She’s pregnant…and let me guess…you, and her, you both got no idea if it’s mine or yours!“ Steve clutched at his chest, howling with laughter.

“It won't matter, you won't live to see it." Ransom swallowed as Steve continued to laugh. Ransom glanced at Harlan. “You see now? See why I can’t let him live!?”

Harlan nodded but a look of sadness crossed his face as he looked at Ransom then to Steve, whose laughter died off.

“I guess I knew it would come to this, one way or another.” The old man shook his head, “I tried…”

“I did warn you this was only gonna end one way.” Steve popped a shoulder. “But let’s face it, you’re gonna be more disappointed when I walk outta here and he’s carried out in a bag.”

"You son of a bitch," Ransom growled.

“Now-now, that anyway to talk about our mother?” Steve asked lazily, as Harlan gave one last, sad sigh.

“She’d be devastated to see this, as am I.” He took a deep breath, before I looked at his grandsons. “I love you both.”

And with that, he turned and left.

The flick of Ransom's eyes toward Harlan gave Steve the opportunity for his right forearm to rise and swipe the barrel down toward the ground. Ransom's finger pulled the trigger to keep the 9m within his grasp. The bullet ricocheted, bouncing off the concrete.

He saw the blow coming in his peripheral and ducked, Steve’s fist swiping a fresh air. That gave Ransom the opportunity to strike with his gun held elbow right to his brother's face. The movement allowed Steve to stagger back but recover quickly with a gut punch to Ransom's middle, which caused the gun to fall from his hands.

“Oh dear…” Steve kicked it away, hand running through his hair.

Ransom growled in pure rage and ran, shoulder down shoving him right in the gut. Steve stumbled but wrapped his arms around Ransom and took him to the concrete as he lost balance. But that gave Ransom the advantage, for as they fell, Ransom was on top. His knees fell to each side of Steve's torso, and he sat up to his tallest height.

He smashed his fist straight into Steve’s face, pouring every single bit of anger and hurt he felt into his throws. Steve's reaction was to jolt his hips up to rock Ransom off his body so he could get his hands off to deflect the blows. It was futile, for a half dozen blows, until with immense strength, Steve crunched up and grabbed his brother's throat. He squeezed hard, causing Ransom to choke.

Ransom gripped at Steve’s hands, attempting to pry them off. When this didn’t work, he threw another punch at Steve’s head. The strike released his hands, but Steve still managed to top Ransom from his seat. His shoulder hit the concrete as he attempted to skid along the cold surface.

The gun, his gun, was just out of reach. He stretched in vain, and it was then that he felt a sharp, searing pain to the side of his abdomen.

“Unlucky for you, I brought a knife to the gun fight…” Steve gloated.

Ransom pushed himself to all fours, trying to stagger the few inches he needed, but was kicked harshly in the side, right where Steve had stabbed him. With a yell and a groan of pain he fell forward again, rolling to his back, his hands clutching at his left side where the knife had pierced him.

His blood felt warm and sticky as it flowed through his fingers. He was hurt, badly.

“Oh, Hugh…” Steve crouched down as Ransom looked up at him.

Ransom felt the gurgle of blood filling his throat. He was stabbed, beat, and banged up. Blood was trickling down his forehead and leaking from his lip. His eyes glared back at ones that matched his own. Steve was worse for wear too, his nose broken, no doubt his jaw cracked from Ransom's facial attack and his eye was already swelling.

A sinister smirk crossed over Steve's own bleeding lips, "I could put you outta your misery,” he chuckled devilishly, his hand flying to his waistband where his gun was tucked. “But instead, I’m gonna sit here, watch the light go out in your eyes. Then imma find your girl…and that baby, make them both mine. She might resist at first but, well, I always get what I want…”

With a groan, Ransom stretched out with his left hand, towards his own gun which lay a little above his head, his teeth grit against the pain. Steve scoffed, and reached over, still in his crouched position to knock it further away. But it was the distraction Ransom needed. With a last surge of adrenaline-fueled energy, he sat up and pulled Steve’s gun from his brother’s waistband.

His fingers, slick with blood, slipped on the handle a little but he still had enough of a hold to smash the butt hard into Steve’s temple. His brother fell to his side with the blow, and as he stumbled, Ransom gripped the gun in both hands, cocking it. Steve pushed himself to his feet, as Ransom lay on the floor, gun aimed at his brother, whose face was ablaze with shock at what had just happened.

“Eat shit.” Ransom snarled as his slippery fingers pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Steve straight between the eyes, exactly the same way in which Steve had shot Walt no more than five minutes ago.

Steve's head cracked in the back as it made contact with the ground. In relief, Ransom fell back flat against the solid surface himself, the gun falling to his side. Inhaling deep, deep breaths, he led there, still bleeding out.

If he didn't get his adrenaline under control, he'd have only minutes.

The sting of his wound began to slowly settle in, and he groaned as he touched the seeping slit. "Fuck," he garbled.

But he was damned if he was going to meet his end now, not after this. Not when there was still a chance you might need him.

******

Ari watched you go through the window, raising his hand as you left, before he turned to Sammy and Kabede.,

“There’s not time to explain, but I need you both to do something for me.”

“Sure…”

“Before Barnes shanked me, I was tailing Steve. I wanted to smash his face in, but before I did that, I wanted to confront him with something.”

“What?” Sammy frowned.

“Photos of a meet between Rumlow and the person I believe to be the one who ordered the original hit on Steve, the one that killed Peggy. And it wasn’t Ransom. I wanted to show him exactly who it was that had betrayed him before I killed him.”

Sammy and Kabede exchanged looks. “Who was it?” Sammy asked.

Ari took a deep breath, “Walt Thrombey.”

Sammy’s mouth dropped open and Kabede frowned. “Seriously?”

Ari nodded before he swallowed and exhaled, grimacing at the sharp pain in his ribs. “I need you to get those photos to Ransom immediately. I wanna shut this damned feud down before my sister…before she gets hurt even more. She’s all that matters to me now.”

“So where are the photos?” Sammy asked.

Ari looked at the door, then dropped his voice even further. “Did you guys find my car?”

“Yeah… Max has it.”

“Okay, well I need you to tell him there’s an envelope, hidden in the driver’s side door panel. The photos are in there. Get that to Ransom.”

“You got it, boss.” Kabede stood up, pulling his phone from his pocket. He headed out into the corridor and Ari then looked at Sammy.

“You sure it was him?” Sammy asked.

Ari took another deep breath, “I’m not sure about anything, but at the very least it shows he met with Rumlow…and I don’t believe in coincidences. Not to that extent anyway.”

“Harlan’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’m pissed.” Ari snarled, “that my sister got caught up in all of this…and it’s down to Walt. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t excuse any of what Rogers, or Drysdale for that matter did, but if Peggy hadn’t been shot then there wouldn’t have been a feud to get caught in the middle of in the first place.”

Sammy sat silently for a moment, and then they both looked up as Kabede came back into the room.

“Drysdale is in Boston.”

“What?” Ari frowned.

“Max just told me. He and Steve flew out there together last night.”

“Together…” Ari looked at Sammy.

“That’s what Max said.”

Ari pondered for a moment, “huh…”

“What?”

“There’s only one reason I can think of that would make them do that. And that is that they must know already.” He licked his lips, then looked at Sammy. “Only how?”

“Maybe they figured it out?” Kabede offered.

“Maybe…” Ari bit his lip before he looked at Sammy. “I need to call Drysdale. Now.”

******

Ransom desperately needed his phone. His right hand pressed to his wound, he fished in his pocket with his left, groaning as he did so. He had no idea if it was even there.

Then he felt the weight of the device, deep in his coat side pocket, He cursed his camel-colored woolen coat as the sleeve caught on the pocket opening. His fingertips barely clung to his phone, but he managed to grip it and pull it free.

Trembling, blood-soaked fingers slipped on the screen, but before he could even attempt to dial anyone, it lit up with Levinson’s name and number.

"What?" His voice was coarse and raspy, wet with blood in the back of his throat.

“Nice to talk to you too,” Ari scoffed, “listen, I know you’re in Boston…which means you’ve probably figured out that the guy who organised the hit on Steve and tried to frame you is Walt. Someone sent me a photo, I didn’t have time to send it to you.”

Ari trailed off as Ransom began to laugh.

"Something funny, you fuck?" Ari grunted.

"Always were a little late to the party, Levinson," Ransom began coughing. “Walt is dead. Steve shot him. But it’s okay. I shot Steve and now he’s dead too. Mind you, fucker stabbed me first…”

"What?! He stabbed you?” Ari growled on his end, his brain registering Ransom’s almost delirious tone.

“Yup.” Ransom popped the p. “Then I shot him. Right between the eyes. Didn’t see it coming…or maybe he did.” He chuckled again, and then groaned. “Fahk…”

“You know, I’m half pressed to let you bleed out, Asshole, but Y/N would kill me.“ Ari spoke softly, “where are you?”

“Warehouse…” Ransom swallowed, his eyes growing heavy. “Need…need help…” he glanced over to where his dead brother lay. “And a body bag for that dead fuckstick.”

"What warehouse, Ransom?! I need a location to save your ass!”

“Grandpa…” Ransom mumbled, “he’s…he’s not far.”

"Alright. Just hang on. You die, my sister won't have shit, and trust me, you're taking care of this kid financially. No matter who's it is."

“It’s…isss mine…” Ransom slurred, and that was the last thing he said, as the phone slipped from his hand as darkness consumed him.

*****

Part 9

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Up All Night 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, narcissim, probably name calling and nasty words, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (older!reader)

Note: I wasn’t serious about this but now I were. Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You take the three minutes you have before you’re due for the meeting to pull on the black leggings you keep in your gym bag. It’ll have to do. You don’t have time to waste. The cardigan conserves your professionality.

You enter the meeting room. Ransom sits, hunched slightly as he squints at his laptop. He rubs his cheek, his lack of sleep showing in the bags under his eyes. You sit in one of the sleek black chairs and tap your fingers on the table. He aims a pointed look in your direction. You tap your nails louder.

“You call these notes?” He scoffs as he looks back at the screen.

“Mr. Drysdale, if you have your own, I suggest you go off of those.”

He rolls his eyes and sits back. “Whatever, I don’t need to fucking talk about the book. This is about a contract, not whatever bullshit plot this guy dreamed up in his shit–”

You see Robert Laing through the transparent panes of the wall. You recognise him from his author’s portrait. You stand in expectation as Ransom remains as he is, slouching in his chair as he swivels it back and forth. You muster a smile as Laing enters.

“Good morning, thank you for meeting me,” he takes the lead as he enters.

“Been waiting,” Ransom mutters.

“Robert Laing,” the writer introduces himself, offering his hand over the table.

Ransom makes a show of sitting forward and shakes it halfheartedly. To your surprise, the prospective client turns to you. You shake his hand eagerly, “Mr. Laing, we’ve been looking forward to it.”

“I know you,” he returns smoothly, “you must be the face behind the emails.”

“Ah, yes, that would be me,” you say proudly, raising your chin, “I trust you received the firm’s offer then.”

“I did,” he lowers himself into the chair across from Ransom and you sit as well, “I had my lawyer review it, of course. I’ve terms, a few, no major changes. More of an author than an editor, which is where you come in.”

“What do you want?” Ransom demands.

You clear your throat, “what are your suggestions?”

Ransom pivots the chair slightly and stomps your foot under the table. You hide the pain in your crushed toes and push your shoulders wise. He’s a little brat and he doesn’t like being reminded of that. He has to realise Laing is a hot property he can’t bully into taking the contract.

“It would be the percentage, solely, on the rights,” Laing unzips his bag and slides out a thin tablet, “what I think you’ve offered is just below fair, I would say. You must understand, everything I create is very personal.”

“We do understand, Mr. Laing,” you assure him, trying to disguise Ransom’s scoff as you raise your voice.

“Forgive my assistant. She talks too much. Let’s not get confused, Robbie, I’m the boss,” Ransom says, “so the lady is gonna leave and let the men talk figures.”

You slowly glance over at Ransom, careful not to lose your poise. You keep your smile in place and gather up your leather folder and metal pen. You stand.

“Of course, Mr. Drysdale, you are correct, I am only the assistant. Mr. Laing, it was a pleasure. You are very talented and I hope your place is with Thrombey Press. If not, I wish you the best in your endeavours.”

“Thank you,” he stands politely, “very nice to finally place a face to the name.”

You nod and strut out without looking back. There’s nothing more you can do and if Ransom blows it, he’ll know exactly who to blame. Though you’re sure he lacks that humility.

🩸

You settle in at your desk, the smell of cappuccino wafting up from your blouse. A bitter reminder of your hectic morning. You review the workday against Drysdale’s personal calendar. You truly hope he doesn’t intend to meet with the new non-fiction editor at that club. 

Just as you feel your irritation fading, Ransom appears, striding past without a word. He slam his office door and you glance over. He steps up to the blinds and closes them, blocking your sight. Oh, you don’t think it went well.

You continue, trying not to think about it. Laing would’ve been a great acquisition, especially since Drysdale has lost several during his tenure. A few minutes pass before a message pops up on your screen.

‘Asshole is ‘thinking about it’.’

You open Teams and type back. ‘Better than a no. Let’s hope he accepts.’

‘Cappucino is cold.’

His response is about as much as you expect. You reply with ‘yes, sir,’ and grab your purse. Anything to get away from him. The wall is hardly thick enough to simmer your agitation.

You sweep out and check your watch. You’ll allow yourself fifteen minutes to get it together and get his cappuccino. You’ll do your best not to spit in it.

At the coffee shop, a local place you prefer on your rare breaks, you put in your order. A cappuccino for him, a tea for yourself. You move along the counter, joining the queue at the window, waiting for them to call your name.

You stand close to a table, the shop overcrowded. A chair scrapes and someone coughs. You try to shimmy out of the way as someone stands on the other side of the table.

“Excuse me,” the familiar voice calls your name, “I thought that was you.”

You turn an greet Laing with a smile, this one less put on, “oh, surprise running into you here.”

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid I have a weakness for caffeine. A writer’s curse,” he smooths his lapel, “and you?”

“Tea,” you answer.

“Mm, yes, black tea?”

“Herbal, no caffeine,” you assure him.

There’s an awkwardness there, things unsaid.

“Would you mind,” he gestures across from him, “five minutes. I’d love to run something by you.”

“Oh?” you tweak a brow curiously.

“Forgive me, I don’t know the man well, but you seem the brains of the operation,” he explains, “and honest at that.”

“Right,” you utter slowly.

“I promise, I won’t keep you long enough for your tea to go cold.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you wave him off, “I don’t mind.” You sit and forget all about your order, “I really think you could do well with Thrombey Press…” you begin the pitch Ransom scrapped.

[nifolution]

I Quit 3

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 2 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been a few days since the Thrombey family dinner. Y/N welcomed the return to her mostly quiet routine. Grateful that those nights didn't usually happen more than once a month. The whole family seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and only interested in their own image. Hiding their misery behind luxury and fake smiles. How Harlan spawned such a bunch, she'd never know.

Y/N was sitting at the kitchen island, enjoying her drive-thru lunch. Because let's face it, she cooked for a living, and sometimes the greasy fast food hit the spot. An added bonus that it involved no work on her part. It's like they say, food tastes better when prepared by someone else. She found that all the more true on days she felt exhausted or moody. 

She nearly choked on her cheeseburger when an unknown figure appeared in her peripheral vision. The man strode past her without a glance, straight into the pantry. The sound of drawers opening and slamming shut seemed extra loud as the stranger rummaged around. An angry voice rang out, “Who moved the damn cookies?”

Who does this guy think he is destroying my kitchen?

Y/N firmly answered, “I did.”

The kitchen invader stepped out, seemingly surprised to see an unfamiliar face staring daggers at him. Although the apron clued him into her position here. “Where's the old broad?”

“I assume you mean my predecessor, she's retired. I'm Y/N. I’ve been working here for a few weeks now.” She pointed her chin behind the man, “The cookies are on the bottom left.”

Instead of returning to the pantry, he moved closer to her, “Y/N, that's a lovely name.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “I'll be sure to tell my mom you approve.” She recognized him now from the family portrait hanging in the parlor. “I assume you're Hugh.”

His face lit up, “Smart girl.” His eyes scanned her from head to foot, openly ogling her. “A pretty girl like you can call me Ransom, though.”

This time her eyes rolled without her permission. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

Ransom didn't answer. Instead he leaned over the island, snatching a french fry. He made a show of slowly bringing it to his mouth and eating it, daring her to say something. She wanted to slap it out of his greedy hand. Or maybe shove the whole lot down his throat. She wasn’t sure.

“Well, it's been fun, but I have to see my grandfather. I have an important matter to discuss with him.” He sucked the salt from his fingers. “Maybe I'll swing back after so we can chat. Get to know one another better.” He winked at her, walking out with a swagger and a smile.

What an ass.

Was he cute, absolutely. But Y/N was all too familiar with narcissistic jerkwads like him. Her school was full of them. She refused to let him get to her.

Fran had told her Ransom liked to show up whenever he felt like it, stir the pot, then slink off into the darkness after he had his fun. His family took the bait every time, so he delighted in causing them any amount of misery or aggravation he could. She also mentioned how he and his grandfather seemed to thrive in having a go at one another. Pissing the other off was their favorite pastime, but they loved each other dearly. The relationships in this family were beyond dysfunctional.

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

A few hours later, Ransom made his way back into the kitchen, intent on seducing Harlan's new chef. The old man put up a fight, but eventually caved in to his demands. He always did eventually. Too kind to let his first grandkid suffer through life and legal battles alone and without a new car. A few choice words, a few rounds of Go and he was putty in his hands. 

Now it was time to get something else he wanted. He paused, leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing the young chef while she chopped vegetables. She looked so innocent, so unbothered. Poor thing didn't know what she was in for.

It was quite sexy watching her work. Smiling to himself, Ransom closed in on her, wanting a better look. The shk shk shk of the blade hitting the cutting board didn't falter. It was a bit hypnotic, her expert hands made it look so easy. He wondered what else she could do with those hands. Promising himself he’d find out.

“You'd look better with your hair down.”

Y/N didn't bother looking up at the attractive nuisance. He was so close that whatever expensive cologne he wore filled her nostrils, distracting her. “That's not a good idea while I'm cooking.”

“So grouchy,” Ransom pouted. “You should be nice, smile more. I'm sure you have a beautiful smile.” She turned her head to glare at him. That was not the reaction he wanted. What would it take to get her to play? “You realize one word from me and my grandfather will fire you?”

“Do YOU realize I'm holding a big ass knife?” She waved the blade for emphasis. 

Ransom held his hands up in surrender, backing away dramatically. “Take it easy there, Killer. I was just being friendly. It wouldn't hurt ya to do the same. You might actually enjoy it.” The shit eating grin remained plastered on his face as he exited.

No, but it very well might kill you, asshole. Not wanting to lose her position, Y/N smartly chose to not speak that part out loud. Just in case.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released upon hearing the front door slam. He was gone. She got back to the task at hand, but would be lying if she said her mind didn’t start to wander.

Damn he smelled good.

Chapter 4