#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 😘

[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.

[buckets-and-trees]

Between the Lines

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, that's me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ransom?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What would you say to four books?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A year and a half,” you countered.

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

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

“Deal,” Linda agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed. “Charming.”

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

“You cook?”

It was his turn to scoff. “God, no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…”

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

You frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Warnings: non/dubcon, titty fucking, nipple clamps, butt plug, allusions to abuse, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You're a good girl for Christmas.

Character: Ransom Drysdale

Day Two of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - you have to behave if you want your present.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The pinch makes you hiss as you repress the squeak in your throat. The metal bites into your breast, latched onto your tender bud. Ransom opens the other and clamps it into place and you blow out another willowy breath. 

"Now, you gonna be a good girl for me?" He steps back and puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head as he takes in your naked figure. 

"Yes, sir." You murmur as you twiddle your finger, itching to tear off the nipple clamps. 

"Hmm, just to be safe," he turns and goes to the night stand. "Bend over for me, baby, let me see the peach." 

You suppress the ripple of humiliation and turn your back to him. You put your head down and stare at your pedicure. You bend and extend your fingertips to the floor to balance yourself. 

He approaches you and slaps your ass. You expect that, he can never keep his hands to himself, yet the sting makes you gasp. He digs his nails in and growls. 

"Goddamn, almost wanna skip dinner and stay home and eat dessert," he purrs and carresses your hot flesh. He gets close to your crack and tuts, "mm, good job, baby." 

You close your eyes as another tide of shame crests. The day before you spent making sure you were perfect. From head to toe. No hair, no blemishes, nothing. Masks, wax, tweezers, lotions, balms... it's all too much yet for the Thrombey heir, there's never enough. 

The cap of the bottle clicks and a coolness dribbles down your crack. He follows the trickle with his thick finger and smears it around your puckered hole. You contract against his touch and he chuckles. 

He backs away and returns to the drawer. You listen to his footsteps, so familiar with the noise of his movement that you know exactly where he is without looking. He comes back to you, another strike across your ass. You tighten again. 

He hums and slips something hard and smooth between your cheeks. He wiggles the tip along your ring and you suck in a chestful of air. You brace yourself for the intrusion. 

"You don't loosen up, and you're going to be crying at the table," he chortles and pushes the tip into you. 

You try to ease your muscles but it only makes you tense. The clamps, the plug, the thought of sitting through the family dinner, it's all a bit much. He dip the silicon into you until you're stretched to your limit. The lube slightly soothes even as the hot pain pulses. 

You close around the stem and let out a thigh. He rubs the bejeweled end of the plug and wiggles it until you whine. He lets his fingers wander down and tickles your lips, delving between to feel the wet betrayal of your body. 

"You have to behave if you want your present," he prods your entrance, "you get me, baby girl?" 

"Yes, sir," you answer. 

He pushes as if he might go further then thinks better of it. He pulls away and drones. He turns and struts away as you open your eyes and watch his lazy steps around your legs. 

"Stand up, get dressed," he commands as he spins and flops on the bed. "My mom will kill me if I'm late again." 

🎁

"Your grandfather says your imprint is looking for new writers. Still," Linda interrogates Ransom as he curls his fingers into your hip. He keeps you close, almost like a shield as he navigates the room of his relatives. He's as tense as if they were strangers, as they are to you. "How much time have you been spending with this... girlfriend?" She eyes you up and down. "You should be focused on work." 

He digs his nails into you, through the red satin of the dress he chose for you. 

"Imprints making a profit, even if we do need some authors," Ransom argues. "You can ask grandfather about our last budget report. You know he goes on about numbers, but he's always so hung up on the names." 

"Well, you wouldn't have much to publish without writers," Linda reprimands. 

He pinches the fabric as his frustration locks up his grip. He tugs at the satin and it brushes against your chest, the clamps you try not to think of even as they bite into you. You're certain everyone's noticed the pertness made obvious by your braless states. Anther of Ransom's demands. No bra, no panties. It's like he wants you to take the attention away from him. You almost can't blame him despite your embarrassment. 

“If grandfather thinks I’m not doing my job, we both know he’ll get rid of me,” Ransom huffs. “Merry Christmas to you too, mom.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean, just realistic.” She shoots you another sharp look. “You can’t be wasting your time on woman you mean to do nothing with.” 

You bristle. You’re not one for confrontation, you think that might be why Ransom keeps you around, but you’re irked to be spoken of as if you are some lifeless doll without an ounce of free will. Maybe that is what you are. Maybe that’s what he’s made you. 

“You know nothing about my intentions,” Ransom sneers. “I’m going to find my dad.” 

“Good luck,” she scoffs. “Oh, and sweetie,” she steps closer and pulls your dress strap across your shoulder before it can fall, “it’s much too cold for satin.” 

Ransom unhooks his arm from around you and takes your hand instead. He grumbles and tugs you away from his mother as she puts her lips to her crystal glass of mulled cider. You’re all too happy to get away from her. 

“Fuck it,” he growls under his breath. 

You expect him to guide you towards the cluster of figures awash in the rustic glow of the fireplace. Instead, he sidles you through the archway to your left and past the wide-mouthed staircase. He snakes around the banister and ushers you into a door just behind. 

He lets you go with another sigh. He shuts the door and leans against it. You stand patiently, shifting your weight on the pencil thin heels. He tilts his head back as he closes his eyes. 

You know better than to break the silence. He takes a deep breath as his nostrils flare and he lets it out slowly. He sets his head straight and flicks his lashes open. His eyes creep up and down your body. He smirks. 

“Baby, you’ve been so good to me, haven’t you?” He drawls. “Look at you, so sweet for me.” 

“Yes, sir,” you push your hands behind you and clasp them tight. 

“God, you’re such a slut,” he pushes away from the door and comes close. “Look at you,” he covers your tits with his hands and kneads, causing the clamps to pinch harder. You whimper and teeter on your toes. “Walking around like this. Everyone can see you, you know? They see what’s mine and they know better than to touch it.” 

He tweaks the clamps and you whine. You pout as you look down as he trails his touch down your stomach. He steps flush to you and loops his arm around you. He pushes against the satin and forces it between your cheeks until he touches the hard jewel of the plug. 

“Fuck,” he grits as the plug twitches as you clench. “You are so fucking dirty.” 

You bring your hands to his biceps, resting them lightly on his bulging sleeves, and force a purr from your throat. You don’t like it but he does. He loves to talk to you like that even though he’s the only one. The first one. 

“Do you want your present now, baby?” He asks. 

You bat your lashes and nod. You won’t deny him anything. Just the thought inspires the vision of spit flying and eyes blazing, the angry roar of his displeasure, the fiery lash of his palm. 

“Alright, baby, you gotta get on your knees,” he says. “And beg me for it.” 

You hesitate, for a split second, and pray it isn’t long enough for him to notice. You drag your hands down his arms as you lower yourself to one knee then angle the other under you. You drop your hands to your thighs and look up at him. 

“Please, sir, may I have my present now?” You ask politely. 

“Hm, why should you get that?” He challenges. 

“Because sir, I’ve been a good girl for you,” you say. 

He grins and grips his hips, poking his tongue out devilishly. “And how have you been a good girl?” 

“Sir, my hole is plugged just like you want it and my nipples are swollen and tender for you.” 

He snickers and hums. “Fuck, but you’re a bad girl, aren’t you? You got me hard and hurting.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say. 

“Baby, you know what else makes you a bad girl?” You shake your head as he watches you with a menacing gleam. “You’re not naked for me.” 

You swiftly grab the straps of your dress and pull them down your shoulders and arms. You free your wrists and shimmy the satin down past your waist until it pools around your knees. You stare up at him, completely exposed. 

“Fuck, I love those tits,” he slither. “Baby, you can have your present,” he looks down and pushes his pelvis out. His pants tent around his arousal. “Go ahead and unwrap it.” 

You obey. You unbuckle his belt and daintily unbutton his fly. He squirms and groans as you brush the front of his pants with your hands and as you undo his zipper, he shudders. 

You roll his pants down his thighs, then his boxers. You angle his tip past the elastic and he stands rigid above, bobbing just slightly. You look at it, almost crossed-eyed. 

You don’t weight for his command. You grab onto him and pump him. He groans but leans away from you. He tisks. 

“No, no,” he says. “Push your tits together.” 

You gently cup your tits and swallow a moan at the tenderness pinpointed in your nipples. You crush them together so they bulge as he moves around. He drags a chair around and sits in front of you. He grabs your head and urges you closer. 

He beckons you with his other hand, flicking two fingers. You walk on your knees until you’re between him. He pushes his tip down then aims it up between your cleavage until he pops up above the swell of your chest. 

His swollen head hits your chin and he laughs again. He clutches your hair in his fist and forces you to bend your neck. As he thrusts again, he taps your lips. You know what he wants without him saying it.  

You open your lips and take him in. He groans and he shoves you down his length, halfway until you meet the top of your tits. He pulls you back so you pop off then rams you down again. He does it again and again. Pushing you onto his dick then drag you off just as quickly. 

As your lips part, saliva drips out and strings between your mouth and his glistening head. You puff out shallow breaths as he uses you like a toy. He curves his hand under your chin and slides to the edge of the chair. 

“Look at me, baby,” he demands. 

Your eyes flick up as he invades your mouth again. He smirks as he shoves you down then lifts you up again. The noise of your mouth sucking then popping off fills the space beneath his sultry groans. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he rasps and holds you down on him. “I’m about to fill you all up with your present, you ready?” 

He keeps your head still, pumping his hips instead. The friction between your tits and the wetness of your mouth riles him. You taste the saltiness mingling with your spit. You know, even before he grunts that he’s there. 

He spills into you, fucking through his climax as he whines in relief. You gulp him down and purr in faux delight. You don’t have to be happy, you just have to pretend enough to keep him nice. 

[krirebr]

Updated 1/13/25

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 ⭐️New/Updated

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? 🩶🥵

Still Life series

Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad... 😥⭐️

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 🖤😥🥵

[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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[intrepidacious]

occupy my brain [4]

series summary: Being Harlan Thrombey’s research assistant would be the perfect summer job if it weren’t for his grandson.

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter warnings: heavily implied smut; ransom being his usual asshole self; the repercussions of chapter 3 😏 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: these chapters keep getting longer and someone needs to stop me to be quite honest. or maybe don't. this was a fun one 🤭

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searching for redemption

It had been a few days since the incident, and your mind couldn't stop replaying that night. It was like you were stuck on a loop. Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you again. His lips.

And when your own hands traveled down your body, you couldn't replicate the sensations those memories brought you. The frantic clashing of your bodies against each other, the heat, the sounds.

It was maddening.

The last thing you needed right now was an unhealthy obsession with the memory of Ransom fucking Drysdale's dick.

You'd have to quit. You'd have to leave the country. You were still thanking your lucky stars that Harlan Thrombey hadn't said anything about the state of you the morning after, when you arrived at your meeting late and in a very wrinkled shirt. You'd wanted to die.

The man wrote detective novels, for crying out loud. It didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what you'd been up to the night before.

The one silver lining was that Ransom was still as unwilling to get any actual work done as ever, and so you'd been pretty successful at evading him. Apart from a couple of research-related texts exchanged between the two of you, you hadn't heard from him at all; and even though your own messages were bordering on passive-aggressive, his stayed surprisingly, and thankfully, innuendo-free.

You just wanted to forget any of it had ever happened.

There were only a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and then you never had to see him again at all. You'd never been more grateful for your semester schedule picking up immediately after break. After sinking a couple of eighty-hour weeks into lab reports and essays and analyses, you'd be back to normal again.

Everything was going to be fine.

Except there were still a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and when you left the lab building on Friday afternoon to catch a ride home with your friend, her car wasn't anywhere on the parking lot. Instead, you could see a beat-up BMW and a certain dark-haired asshole leaning against it.

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately at the sight of him. His lips were twisted into his usual scowl as he scrolled through his phone. It wasn’t bright enough outside to warrant wearing sunglasses, and yet Mr Pretentious did it anyway.

"What are you doing here?" you called out, stopping a couple of paces away from him.

Ransom put his phone away, and even though you couldn't see his eyes you could feel his gaze dragging up and down your body lazily. You ground your teeth.

"We've been summoned," he finally said. "Don't you ever check your phone?"

As a matter of fact, you hadn't in a while; labs made you forget all concept of time, particularly with the amount of reports you'd had to finish. You found an e-mail from Harlan Thrombey marked urgent as well as several missed calls from [Don't even think about it] and a message from your friend telling you she'd left without you after "your asshole guy told me u had plans. use protection!!"

"How did you even know where I was, anyway?" you asked, putting your phone away again without deigning to answer that particular text.

"I asked nicely."

You snorted.

"Can we go or do you wanna wait here until you take root?"

"Right now?" you said reluctantly.

"Right now," Ransom drawled. "Get in."

So much for your evening plans of watching a couple of episodes of your favorite show and eating sushi in bed. With a groan, you climbed into his car. It smelled surprisingly nice in here, like worn-out leather and some expensive air freshener and, well, Ransom.

Hot breaths and sticky skin and low moans and—

The engine roared to a start and you quickly turned away to put your seatbelt on. It was a twenty minute drive to the Thrombey estate, and you spent the first half of it staring out of the window, ignoring the man behind the wheel. You weren't sure what you were waiting for; some snide remark, probably, an excuse for you to rip into him like you usually would and leave everything that had happened between you behind for good.

"You're being awfully quiet today."

When you looked at him, he was staring blankly at the road ahead, his face unbothered. He still hadn't taken off his sunglasses, even though the lights were pretty low now. Prick.

"Because this is weird," you said.

He put the blinker on, every movement nonchalant. "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know why."

The pause that followed was long enough it almost let you hope he'd just drop it and you'd be off the hook. You could just move through the uncomfortable air between you and continue working together as history's worst team until you could finally part ways.

"Do you always get like this or has it been a while?"

Then again, always lovely to be reminded how much you hated the guy.

"You know what, I'm not even going to answer that," you said sharply.

"The second one, then."

"It's none of your business, Ransom."

"No," he said and readjusted his glasses. "It was fun, though."

"Fuck you."

He stayed silent for the rest of the drive, but the smug energy still radiated off him. You entertained yourself by thinking about murder.

*~*~*

"Ransom, take those glasses off," Harlan said as soon as you sat down in his office.

You gave Ransom a look that said told you so; you'd had that discussion just minutes earlier.

"No thanks," he answered, leaning back in his chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

Harlan sighed heavily. "Off now or so help me god, I'm going to write you out of my will after all."

There were a couple of angry red splotches forming on Ransom's neck, right above the spot where you knew you'd left your mark on him, which was just hidden by the collar of his sweater today. With another gruff sound, he finally pulled his sunglasses off.

You swallowed your gasp down.

"What happened with you?"

Ransom raised his chin to look his grandfather straight in the eye; it made the shadows fall on his face in a way that made the dark bruise stand out even more.

"I fell," he said dryly, his features made of stone.

You didn't hear Harlan's reply; you barely took anything from the meeting, even though you felt yourself nodding, agreeing to consider a couple of different things in your research for the remainder of your work time. Later, you even found a couple of notes you'd taken on your phone.

Your thoughts were swirling and you didn't even know why. It was all very confusing.

Only when you got back to Ransom's car, because of course you'd had to agree to him driving you again, that one thing crystallized for you clear as day: you were furious with him.

"You fell, huh?" you said sharply.

"That's what I said."

"Bullshit someone else, Drysdale. What did you do?"

"Why do you care?" he said, tilting his head. "Because we fucked one time?"

Your face was burning. "Sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

You crawled into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind you, which really didn't have the intended effect when he was getting in on the other side just moments later.

Neither of you spoke this time. You were staring at your own reflection in the car window, still fuming; that's why it took you until the car slowed down that you weren't even in the area of your apartment building.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to ice my face," he said, turning off the engine, "and then I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" You got out of the car after him, face incredulous. "You said you were gonna drive me home!"

"I said I'd drive you. I did. If you don't wanna stay, call yourself an uber."

Drowning. Strangulation. Multiple lacerations to his thorax.

"You're such a prick."

"Where have I heard that one before?"

You followed him into the entrance hall because damn him, you were not going to stand out there in the middle of the night and hope for an uber to be in the vicinity.

"Brighten up, sunshine," he said, another way too smug expression on his face. "You need to learn how to relax."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you hissed, throwing one of your shoes at him.

"Jesus, what—I should be the one asking you that."

You threw the second shoe. "I’m not the one driving you insane!"

"You sure about that?" His voice was low, almost raspy, and your gaze snapped to his, almost involuntarily. His eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, like he was searching for something.

Slowly, he stepped closer to you, his hands roughly grabbing your face. Still, the way he pulled you towards him was almost gentle, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t pin down. At last, your faces were merely inches apart. You couldn’t breathe.

Then, finally, his lips found yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. You clasped your hands around his neck to keep your balance when he started walking towards you, making you blindly stumble backwards, his arms securely around you when you almost tripped over something on the floor. You didn’t care to open your eyes.

You hissed when your calves hit the stairs sharpy, the pain almost enough to break the spell he put you under. "Ransom—" you tried.

He huffed disapprovingly, his grip tightening, and then he continued walking you up the stairs, letting you lean on him just enough to not lose your balance, the hunger in his eyes growing even as he noticed the uncertainty in yours.

Getting to the second floor took moments. It took hours. His mouth found that spot on your neck again and you shuddered, your grip on him tightening.

"We shouldn't—" You gasped when he nipped at your shoulder. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"Do you want to talk?" he snarled, his hands wandering down to your ass. "Or do you want to stop thinking for once in your life and let me make you cum enough times you won't be able to walk tomorrow?"

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged his head backwards until he hissed, forcing him to look at you. The bruise around his eye looked even angrier up close, and you inexplicably found yourself wanting to trace it, not to hurt him more but to soothe.

Instead, you swallowed it down. "Promises, promises," you said.

He didn't need another invitation.

thank you to everyone who voted for this chapter on my most recent poll, it was a close one!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🧡

[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.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

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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Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , -

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[somnia-risus]

SPICED CIDER & SECRETS

Summary: Ransom gets into a tussle after having one too many drinks at Harlan's yearly Halloween party; Marta is tasked with patching him up.

Author's Notes: This fanfic takes place a year before the events of the film.

It was a chilly October evening at Harlan Thrombey's sprawling estate, and the grand foyer buzzed with the sort of electric excitement that could only be found at one of his infamous gatherings.

Pumpkins graced the mansion’s front porch, each one intricately carved with personalities ranging from sinister to whimsical. Inside, the scent of cinnamon and cloves lingered in the air as garlands of autumn leaves and cinnamon sticks draped every doorway. Every fireplace crackled with warm, golden flames, casting flickering shadows on the polished wood floors. The dining room table groaned under the weight of fall delicacies; smoked turkey, buttery rolls glistening with honey, cranberry sauce shining like garnets, green beans baked in parmesan, and the unmistakable warmth of pumpkin pies. And of course, there was Harlan’s famed spiced apple cider, an intoxicating concoction passed down from his late great-grandmother, that seemed to flow endlessly from the punch bowl.

The family had gathered for the annual Halloween party, a tradition that had begun many years ago to lift the spirits of a family bound by more than just blood; they were bound by secrets. A mystery writer with a flair for the dramatic, Harlan had long since realized that there was no better way to bring his family together than under the guise of a holiday steeped in mischievousness and intrigue. It was hardly a surprise when he proposed the idea of an annual Halloween gathering; what could be more fitting for a man whose life was built on twisting and unraveling secrets?

This year, however, something felt...off. The air was thick with tension, a heavy fog that seemed to hang over the lavish costumes and the forced smiles of his relatives. Beneath the sparkling chandeliers and loud laughter, there was a subtle yet undeniable current of old grudges and unresolved animosities.

Marta, Harlan’s devoted nurse and companion, had received her invitation, of course. She had become something of a fixture in the Thrombey household since taking on the role of caretaker. Yet despite her closeness to the elderly patriarch, the rest of the family still regarded her with suspicion, and none more so than Ransom, the black sheep of the family. His eyes, sharp and calculating, barely spared her a glance when they did meet. As the evening wore on, Marta, ever the professional, chose to keep to herself, mingling with the more welcoming guests and pretending not to notice the undertones of hostility threading through the air.

Despite the overtures of civility, the party quickly began to fray at the seams. It was only a matter of time before someone’s temper flared. and this time, it was Ransom. His costume, a dark and brooding version of a pirate complete with a faux eye-patch and a weathered coat, did little to mask the contempt that was written all over his face. By the time the argument with Meg erupted, it was clear that the evening had already gone off the rails. His sharp, biting words collided with her stammered protests in the way only years of pent-up frustration could, until a shove was thrown that sent Meg crashing into the large grandfather clock by the drawing room.

From there, the situation escalated rapidly. Family members shouted and gestured with angry hands, their words ricocheting off the walls. Richard, the self-proclaimed peacekeeper, briefly attempted to intervene, but this only served to add fuel to the fire. In the chaos that followed, Ransom, perhaps too hasty in his frustration, tripped over the low coffee table and crashed into the hardwood floor with an angry grunt.

"Goddamn it!" Ransom cursed, clutching his side in pain, the air escaping his lungs in an audible wince.

Marta, who had been watching from a distance, stepped forward cautiously. She had witnessed Ransom in far worse states before; drunk, angry, and thoroughly unpleasant. But tonight, there was something different about him. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the way his expression seemed to flicker with vulnerability, a crack in the facade of the self-assured asshole he tried so hard to project. Either way, Marta knew it was time to step in.

“Ransom, let me help you.” Her voice was soft, unassuming, and her hands moved to offer assistance.

He flinched and recoiled, his scowl deepening. “I’m fine, Cabrera!” He growled, though the sharpness of his tone did little to hide the pain that still pulsed through his body. His shirt had ridden up on one side, revealing a raw scrape where he’d collided with the edge of the table. It wasn’t anything too severe, but it clearly hurt.

Ignoring his protests, Marta reached down to help him to his feet. “You're not fine.” She insisted gently, her fingers brushing against his elbow as she steadied him. “You’re hurt. Let me clean it up, at least.”

Ransom let out a frustrated grunt but didn’t resist. “Fine...” He muttered, his words heavy with reluctant acceptance. As she guided him toward the quiet safety of the empty kitchen, the murmurs and whispers of the family echoed behind them, sharp and judgmental.

Once inside the kitchen, Marta led him to the marble countertop, and Ransom leaned against it with a small hiss, still favoring his uninjured side.

"Shit, who knew a fucking table could hurt so bad."

"Well, you did hit it pretty hard." Marta replied. She set to work quickly, pulling out a first aid kit, though she could tell he still wasn’t fully in the mood for this. "Don't worry, I'll have you fixed up in no time."

"Good, because I want to punch that bastard uncle of mine in the face." Ransom retorted, earning an eye roll from the other. Marta quickly prepared an antiseptic wipe, taking care not to meet the man's gaze. Ransom was in a foul mood on the best of days, and now that his pride had been injured, he would be even quicker to snap. After a moment, Marta moved over to him, tugging up his shirt to grant her better access to the still-bleeding scrape.

When she dabbed antiseptic on the wound, Ransom flinched, which was to be expected.

"Sorry." She apologized quickly. "I know it hurts. Just try to hold still for me." His entire body jerked with an almost imperceptible twitch as she made a second pass over the area. His back stiffened, and his fingers gripped the edge of the counter with an intensity that belied his usual bravado.

“Ransom?” Marta’s brow furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

He shot her a look, clearly irritated. “What?” He tried to sound dismissive, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck.

“You’re twitching.” Marta said softly, her voice tinged with curiosity. “Does it hurt that much?”

“I’m not twitching!” Ransom snapped, though the way he winced again made it clear he was lying. His hand clenched harder around the counter as if trying to ground himself.

Marta’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she noticed something that made her smile to herself. His fingers weren’t just gripping the counter; they were practically digging into it, as if trying to hold himself still. His body was wound up tight, like a spring coiled and ready to snap. And yet, the discomfort seemed to stim from more than just a little pain. After all, while she was certain the wound hurt at least a little, it hardly warranted that strong of a reaction. There was something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You sure about that?” Marta asked. She leaned in a little closer, careful with her touch as she continued to clean the scrape, more observant now.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m telling you, I’m not twitching. Just...get on with it!”

Marta raised an eyebrow, her fingers gently dabbing the antiseptic wipe against the wound, and this time, Ransom couldn’t hide the involuntary flinch. There was a brief moment, just a fleeting one, but Marta could have sworn she saw his stomach tighten. A small hitch in his breath. The way his eyes flicked to the side.

“Are you...” She began, her voice far more playful than before. “Are you ticklish?”

Ransom’s entire body seemed to stiffen at the question, his face flushing a deep shade of red; much more vivid than the spiced cider stain on his cheek. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull his shirt down to cover more of his skin. “What the hell are you talking about?” He spat, though his voice was tight, betraying the irritation that masked something else.

Marta’s eyes sparkled as she continued to gently clean the cut. “Well, it’s just...” She started, eyes still focused on her work. “This doesn’t seem like just pain.”

“I’m not...ticklish.” The words seemed almost forced out, Ransom's pride clearly wounded by the mere suggestion.

Marta’s lips quirked up in a small, knowing smile, moving to lightly brush her fingers across Ransom's stomach. “You sure about that?” She couldn't help but tease him a little; it wasn't as if the bastard didn't deserved to be knocked down a peg or two.

“Dohohon’t start.” He warned, his voice rising slightly, as though trying to regain some semblance of control. She could see him internally cursing as a giggle slipped out.

Marta, unfazed by his protests, continued her task, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Ransom’s bravado cracking just a little. He was far less composed than he liked to think. The idea of Ransom Thrombey, so smug and untouchable, succumbing to something as innocuous as a ticklish spot made her want to laugh.

“Okay, okay.” She said after a moment, tying off the bandage. “You’re patched up. You can relax now.”

Ransom let out a shaky breath, clearly relieved the ordeal was over. He looked up at her as if she might somehow expose more of his secrets. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you know. I'm not...I'm just NOT, okay?”

Marta straightened up and shot him a mock-serious look. “If you say so.” She teased. “But I’m still fairly certain you’re ticklish.”

Ransom shot her a pointed glare, his arms crossing over his chest as if to shield himself from any further scrutiny. “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to have this conversation.”

Marta smirked. “I’ll take your secret to my grave, don’t worry. HIPAA violation and all that.”

As she turned to leave, she stole one last glance at him. Ransom was still standing there, arms crossed, pretending to inspect the bandage with exaggerated focus. But Marta noticed it then; a slight, almost imperceptible twitch at the corners of his lips, like he was trying to suppress a grin that wanted to break through his tough guy act.

Her heart softened a little. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as invincible as he liked to think. And as much as he’d never admit it, Marta knew one thing for certain; he appreciated her help. Even if his pride would never let him say it aloud.

[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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[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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Maestro’s is a nice place. Your dress feels even louder in the high-end restaurant. And you feel even more tired as the dim lighting softens the edges of your vision. Mr. Hansen looms there too, ushering you after the hostess as she leads you to your reserved booth. 

A man awaits you. He doesn’t stand or offer Lloyd a handshake. He simply finishes his martini and shoves the empty glass at the hostess, keeping the olive to chew on. 

“’Bout time,” he mutters at Hansen around the garnish. 

“Nice to see you too, Hugh,” Hansen nudges you ahead of him. You slide onto the curved bench silently. The man finally looks up from his glowing phone. He scoffs in your direction. “Who’s the grade school teacher?” 

“Assistant,” Hansen drops down and glides in close to you. “She’ll keep minutes.” 

“Really? Alright,” he snorts. 

“Well, you want an investment so... it’s business, isn’t it?” 

“Thought we were getting drinks and steak,” the other man he called Hugh sits back casually. 

“Missie, Ransom, Ransom, Missie. There, all introduced,” Hansen picks up the liquor menu and pets his mustache. You notice how he toys particular with the shining silver strand. 

“Nice to meet you, uh, Ransom,” you intone. 

“Yeah, sure,” he sniffs and rolls his eyes. You’re an intruder, if not an imposter. Not just at this table but in this restaurant. You should be with Peter getting your sandwich with extra pickles. 

The men are silent. You look between them as the tension rise. A waitress reappears with a fresh martini and puts it before Ransom. Hansen sits up and puts down the small menu.  

“Scotch, top shelf for me, and a vodka tonic for the lady. She’s watching those hips,” he orders. You don’t put in that you’d rather not drink. You doubt he’ll notice if you touch it or not. Besides, it’s a courtesy you don’t expect of him. 

“You going to the reunion?” Ransom asks over his martini. 

“Nah, stuff’s sad. Bunch of washed out legacies and stringy armed pledges.” Hansen retorts. 

“Mr. Big Stuff’s too cool for school,” Ransom chortles. “Imagine this, honey,” he gestures to you with his stemmed glass. “Big boss man used to be the frat’s treasurer. Penny pincher. Kept a fucking stranglehold over every penny. Wouldn’t even put out for cups for beer pong--” 

“Not all of have grandaddy’s trust fund to fall back on--” 

“Bro, don’t even. Your mom is loaded.” 

“Where do you think I got my good sense from?” Hansen counters. The server returns with your drinks and sets them down, offering a food menu. The men wave those away. Your stomach growls. 

Hansen slides the sparkling vodka in front of you. He sips his own dark liquor and you let yours sit on ice. He huffs and flicks the brim of your glass, “drink.” 

“Sir,” you lift the glass and take a tiny sip. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” he pushes on the bottom until you gulp. You nearly gag on the bitterness of the tonic and alcohol. 

“So what’s going on here?” Ransom leans his elbows on the table. 

“Business, talk about your damn books,” Hansen demands with the snap of his fingers. 

“New imprint. So long as I can get the backers,” Ransom shrugs. “Grandfather says I have to put work in. Mom says the same.” 

“Oh, and how is the insatiable Mrs. Thrombey?” 

“Hey,” Ransom warns. 

Hansen cackles, “now that’s a woman. Tall, domineering—you know, she still got it--” 

“Would you quit?” 

“I’m having fun,” Hansen chuckles and drains his glass. He takes out his phone and Ransom sighs, nursing his own drink in agitation. 

You squirm in the roiling air. You wet your lips as you wait for them to continue. Neither of them do. 

“That’s a nice ring...” you comment, just to ease the silence. 

Ransom twists the mother of pearl band then fidgets with his hands, “thank, er...” 

“So you went to school together?” You prompt, afraid of another simmering tension. 

“Pfft, no. Do I look old?” Ransom sneers. “I only heard the stories. After. L-Dog made quite the name for himself.” 

“Hugh,” Hansen puts his phone screen down. 

“What? I’m making conversation since you can’t be bothered,” he shrugs and leans forward, focusing on you. “What’s it like working for him? He a tight ass? I mean, he’s got you here past six. I’m thinking so.” 

“She’s here to take notes,” Hansen insists. “It’s her job.” 

“Suuuuure,” Ransom drags out the word. “Still the same as you ever were, huh.” 

“Shut up.” 

“This guy, oh, everyone knew what he liked. Really chubby ch--” 

Hansen slaps the table and it jolts as he kicks Ransom underneath, “you want me to back your nepotistic venture or what?” 

Ransom laughs and reaches to rubs his shin, “you know, this could’ve been an email.” 

“Could’ve,” Hansen signals for the server. “But I prefer to deal with you with a dash of good scotch.” He taps your glass again, “finish that.” 

The waitress reappears and Hansen orders another round for the table. You deflate just a little. You hoped you might get out early enough to meet Peter, or at least call him and explain. You’re not sure your frantic apology via text made sense. 

“You’re too nice for him,” Ransom says. “And it’s me saying so.” 

“Get on with it,” Hansen sneers. 

“Fine. Erotic thrillers. Granddad’s scandalised but I told him, times are changing. People like horny with their fear.” 

You stay quiet. You’re rather content to do so. Let them chatter. You take out your phone and take notes; trying to translate his crass explanation into business speak. Hansen gets his second drink and yawns. 

The more you transcribe there blustering chirping, the more you feel that needling in your head. You shouldn’t be here. Neither of them need you here. You know it’s punishment; because you saw your boss at his weakest, but when did you ever step a toe out of line with Hansen. You’ve ever been loyal. You are sitting at that table after all. 

“Hips, if you’re not gonna drink, don’t let it go to waste,” Hansen snatches your untouched refill and slurps it down. 

Concern tickles behind your ears. He’s drinking a lot and fast. The longer you’re here, the more he knocks back, you’re assured that you won’t be catching up with Peter tonight.  

You quickly flip out of your notes app and check your conversation. You deleted Hansen’s message but not before it was read. Even so, Peter’s response is ‘understood, we’ll do another night’. You reply to him quickly 

‘Sorry again. Boss has important stuff. Maybe this weekend?’ 

You switch back to your notes as Hansen slaps his chest and stifle a belch. Ransom sucks on the gin soaked olive and shakes his head again. Looks like you’re going to be the adult at the table. 

[whateveriwant]

Miscellaneous Masterlist

* indicates smut/18+

! indicates dark!fic

Ransom Drysdale

* Rubber? I Don’t Even Like Her. (Oneshot)

Summary: While at a party at the Thrombey mansion, you run into someone you had no desire to ever see again.

Warnings: language, toxic relationship, slight angst, SMUT

* The Elephant in the Room (Oneshot)

Summary: You attend the Thrombeys’ annual Christmas party. The main event of the night? The family’s time-honored tradition: White Elephant.

Warnings: language, 18+ content

[abbatoirablaze]

Princess & Bunny, Chapter 2

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  taboo relationships, manipulation.

“What the fuck are they doing here?”

“Language young lady,” Linda Thrombey frowned.  Bunny took a deep breath as her stepbrother stood awkwardly on the front porch while they pulled up the driveway, “and if you must know, I told Ransom and a few of his friends to come get you and your sister.”

“Oh, is that Hughie?” Princess asked excitedly, already sitting forward in her seat until she’d had a view of her stepbrother.  Bunny frowned, crossing her arms, “Come on, Bunny, cheer up.  Hughie never did anything to you and you always treat him so rotten.”

“You’re really excited to see him?” she scowled, “especially after we just dropped Kingston off at grandpa Harlans?”

“About Kingston…Ransom’s friends don’t know anything about…that incident…and I’d prefer that neither one of you bring it up!”

“Oh…” Princess frowned, “o-okay.”

“I just think it’s for the best,” Linda said quickly, “I mean, we know that Ransom is the boy’s father, but we don’t want to put him in that kind of awkward situation with his friends, now do we?  You’re his stepsister, Bunny…mate or not, the rest of the world won’t see it as a good thing.”

“N-no…I guess not,” she frowned, sitting back in her seat, “a-am I allowed to talk about Kingston at all?”

“You shouldn’t!” Bunny said firmly, shooting her sister a look over her shoulder, “for all of spring break we are just two high school seniors forced to hang out with her stepbrother and his weird frat brothers.”

“I think they’re nice!”

“You think everyone is nice!  You are far too trusting, my little Princess,” Linda sighed, putting the car into park, “come on…let’s just get this show on the road.”

But Princess was already halfway out of the car; the 18-year-old panther quickly making her way towards Ransom, “Hughie!”

“Cece!” the normally stoic and sarcastic man smiled, catching her as she launched herself into his arms, “god I missed you.”

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply.  She began purring wildly as she nuzzled her face against his.  A few of his friends looked at one another, taken back by the fact that he just scented his stepsister.

“And you think this is a good idea?” Bunny scoffed, shooting her stepmother a look, “we’ll be lucky if by the end of this, she doesn’t end up with another cub.”

“And what about you?” Linda asked, raising her brow at the young woman, “I saw the way that you were eyeing up that panther in the back.  The boy with the dark hair and those steely eyes.”

Bunny blushed, her scent tinging ever so slightly from being called out by Linda, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, no?” she asked, “then what about the blonde lion who stood near him?  Or the bulky looking wolf in the corner?  Thinking of going from a big cat to a dog?”

Bunny shifted in her spot, “I-I’ve never so much as kissed anyone, mother…wh-why are you asking me these things?”

“Be careful is all I’m saying,” she shrugged, “I ended up with Ransom’s father so quickly…I was young.  Inexperienced.  I thought I knew the world, much like you.  But I didn’t know anything.  I don’t want you making the same mistakes that I did.”

“Ransom…”

“I love my son…but I know what he is,” she said sadly, “had I not been so trusting of the world, I would not have had him…I just want you to be prepared, Bunny.  I’m protecting you.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, “You’re not just testing my boundaries?”

“Do you think that you need to be tested?”

“What happens if I do?”

“I think that you and your sister are in need of being tested before you go to college,” she admitted with a firm look, “and I think now is a good start to that.  You are a smart girl, Bunny…I don’t think that you’ll make the same mistakes that I did.”

“This is it!”

Bunny frowned as she looked around the large living room that she’d been in only weeks before.  And while her sister was excitedly following her stepbrother into the house, she stood in the same room, not wanting to go further into it.

“You know…you can’t just stand there for the whole two weeks you’re going to be here…people might start to confuse you with a coat rack if you do.”

Bunny nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned around.  The confidence was practically rolling off the lithe man in droves.  She’d recognized him from the first time she was in the house, but she didn’t know his name. 

He leaned forward ever so slightly, his nostrils flaring while he took in her scent, and a low rumble started in his chest, “you smell phenomenal, pretty kitty…do you have claws or are you just looking for a reason to purr?”

Despite the way his voice was affecting her, making her want to do nothing but scent him back, she hissed.  The man smirked, taking a step back.

“Johnny, leave her the hell alone!”

He held up his hands, as though he was innocent, “I’m not doing anything…just seeing if the kitty has claws.”

“She does…and she’ll fuck you up,” Ransom warned.  He shot his stepsister a look and she gave him an appreciative nod, “Come on, Bunny…let me show you the third floor where you and Princess will be staying.”

She nodded, quickly following behind Ransom.  He’d gone up the first set of stairs, and from her spot on the landing, Bunny could see Princess impatiently waiting on the third floor, “come on, guys.”

“We’re coming,” Ransom chuckled, making his way towards Princess, “god, Cece, you’re impatient as ever.”

She giggled, attaching herself back to Ransom’s side as he joined her, “or I just want you to show me every bit of this place.  I’m so excited Hughie.  Linda never let us see you.  She alw-“

“You know exactly why that is, Princess!” Bunny scowled, cutting her excitable sister off, “now stop being stupid.”

“Hey,” Ransom growled, glaring at Bunny, “stop being mean to her…you know, not everyone has a stick up their ass about everything all the time like you do, Bunny!”

“I’m just excited…Linda never lets us go anywhere!” Princess said sadly, “It-it’s always home, or the publishing company…or her real estate business…or Harlans…I just-“

“Hey…hey…” Ransom said quickly, cutting her off, “it’s okay, Princess.  Bunny’s just being a pain.  You  know how she is sometimes…it’s nothing new.  And we’ve always dealt with it before…and we have each other again, now.”

“Yeah…” she agreed, sniffling at Ransom.  He was quick to wipe away the tears before they fell down her cheeks, “she’s not sweet to me like you are, Hughie…”

Bunny rolled her eyes, “Whatever…where are we sleeping?  I want to put my stuff down somewhere!”

“I want to stay in Hughie’s room!” Princess said quickly, turning all of her attention back to the alpha, “please, say I can stay in your room with you, Hughie.  Pretty please.  Please!  Ple-“

“If that’s what you want!” he said quickly, already caving in to her doe eyes, “I-we were going to have you girls stay in one of the spare rooms on the top floor so the guys don’t bug you as much.  But if you want to stay with me, Princess…”

“Of course I do, Hughie!” she giggled, pressing herself tightly against Ransom and wrapping her arms around his neck, “oh this is going to be the best two weeks ever.  It’ll be just like when you lived at home…”&

“Does anyone else think that Ransom’s stepsisters are a little…”

“Odd?” Jake Jensen voiced.  His eyes trailed towards the stairs.  He knew that a while ago, Ransom had taken them upstairs to show them the room they’d be staying in. 

A few of the guys chattered around the coffee table as they sipped on their beers and watched the game that was going on.  Some nodded along, agreeing on how they noticed Ransom was acting, and how the sisters were responding.

“The one is just…all over him!  Did anyone else think that was weird?”

“And he scented her when we got them!”

“What?”  

“And the other acts like she hates him…”

“Maybe she does?”

Bucky glared at Johnny, “she seems like she’s pretty smart…the one that wasn’t clinging to Drysdale…maybe there’s a reason she hates him…ever think of that?  Probably has something to do with how much of a creep he was being with her sister.”

“Because Drysdale is a dick!”

“No, Buck is right.  I think.  The other one is all over him!” Steve repeated, his confusion leaking through the exclamation, “they’re too close for even stepsiblings.”

“Maybe that’s why she hates him!” Johnny pointed out as he finally realized what the two were saying.  He used his tongue and pressed it to the inside of his cheek, “big step bro playing hide the pickle with her twin and not her…”

“God, why do you have to be so disgusting, Johnny!” Jake groaned, “that’s his stepsister.”

“Steve and Bucky said it first!”

“You guys…that’s not what you were saying, was it?”

Bucky shrugged, “it’s what it looks like!”

“I’m sorry, those twins are hot,” Johnny began, “if they were my sisters, step or not, I’m gladly doing whatever position they ask.  I know you don’t get much action, Jensen, but the one looks like she just lives to please…imagine her beneat-”

“Come on, man.  That’s gross!”

“Maybe Storm is right,” one of the other panthers agreed, “she really is all over him while the other one hates him.”

“Jealousy?”

“I mean the one that hangs off him-that one seems pretty stupid,” one of the guys laughed, “Maybe the grumpy bitch just hates him because he’s all over her and the ditz is too stupid to realize it.”

“My sister isn’t a ditz,” a feminine voice replied all too quickly.  The guys tore their eyes from the game to see Bunny in a pair of sweatpants and a crop top tee.  Instantly regret laced their scents.  She inhaled, and sneered, “you guys have one thing right though…I do fucking hate Ransom…and I hate all of you too…you self-righteous, self-serving pricks.”

“We-“

“Save it,” she spat, glaring at Jake, “the least you ingrates could do is make sure that one of the people you’re talking about isn’t in the god damned kitchen making food.”

“Is Ran-“

“Princess wanted to see the campus,” she said firmly, shaking her head at the question, “you’re lucky that Ransom took her out before your little game started…if he heard you talking about Princess like that, he’d personally gut each and everyone of you.”

“You won’t tell him, will you?”

Her eyes snapped to Buckys, “I may hate that asshole, but I don’t hate Princess…she thinks the world of you pricks already, and I’m not going to be the one to disillusion her to that.”

Chapter 3

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[niffala]

I Quit (Pt. 3)

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom

A/N: Reader insert version found here. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts 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. Elizabeth 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.

Elizabeth 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?

Elizabeth 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 Elizabeth. 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, “Elizabeth, 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 Elizabeth 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.”

Elizabeth 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, Elizabeth 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