#knives out fanfiction

[nerdy-sunflower]

Reposting this TikTok I made before the ban goes through 🥲

[dbnightingale24]

Sneak Peek to ‘Pavlov’s Dog’

A Ransom love story

~~

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+), swearing, cheating, drinking, angst, Ransom being Ransom...uhhh, that’s all you have to worry about...for the preview.

“Welcome to Fish, my name is Jonathan and I’ll be your server tonight,” the waiter smiles at the both of you as he approaches the table, “can I start you both off with drinks?

“I’ll have a water-”

“She’ll have a Mai Tai and I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” Ransom interrupts with an irritated sigh.

“Coming right up,” the waiter smiles before walking off.

“Ya know, we’re not going to get anywhere if you’re tense the entire time,” he mutters as he looks over his menu.

“I don’t know exactly know what it is that you want from me.”

“Would it helped if I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Stop it, Ransom!” you snap quietly as he lets out a full bodied laugh.

“Jesus, it’s just drinks, food, and conversation. Relax.”

“Says the one who isn’t married. How the fuck do you even know you like me?”

“I’ve liked you for a while.”

“Yeah okay.”

“I mean it.”

“How long is a while, Ransom?”

“Remember in first grade? When Tommy Smotts was picking on me about my clothes?”

“You...you remember that?”

“I think about it every day.”

“You never said anything...you never spoke to me.”

“Why would I? You were nice and, in the world we live in, there’s no room for nice people. I kept waiting for you to turn into this bitchy party girl, like every other girl did, but you just kept being sweet and kind. Then you met Jack.”

“If you liked me, why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you let Jack scoop me up?”

“Why not? It wasn’t my business or concern. You’re both adults and capable of making your own choices-”

“But you wanted me and, from what I’ve heard, you’re the king of getting what you want.”

“You’re different.”

“How so?” you ask as the waiter places your drinks down.

“Can I start you two off with some appetizers?”

“No, but keep the drinks coming. We’ll be here for a while,” Ransom smirks, his eyes never leaving you.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into now?

**

“He’s such a liar! That’s not what happened at all!” you laugh as your next round of drinks are brought out.

“That’s what Jack said!” Ransom laughs.

“He’s a fucking liar! That’s not what happened at all! He locked us out of the Air BnB because he’s hard headed, then talked me into scaling the side of the house because he was afraid he’d fall and break something.”

“You scaled the side of a house for him even though it was his fault?”

“In my defense, I was in love,” you shrug as you take a sip of your drink.

“So, what do you know about me?” Ransom asks as he sits back a little, signature smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t know anything about except that you like to fuck.”

“What have you heard about me?” he chuckles.

“A lot of unkind things.”

“I can take it.”

“You’re a scumbag, you only lookout for yourself, you’re a cheater, a liar, you have a terrible temper, you had a hand in Harlan’s murder, you treat women like trash....the list goes on.”

“Yet, you chose to start this relationship with me.”

“It’s not a relationship, Ransom. We fuck and that’s it.”

“Then why do you stay whenever I tell you to?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the last few months.”

“Because you like me too.”

“I like the way you fuck me.”

“You’re still gonna hide behind that after everything?”

“I’m not hiding from anything, Ransom. I’m married to someone else, and in all honesty, this shouldn’t have ever started.”

“Then why did you let it start?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state.”

“And the second time?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state,” you smirk and he laughs.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Why you want me.”

“I like you.”

“Ransom, that’s not a fucking reason.”

“It is for me. I’ve never been infatuated with someone for this long, it only makes sense that I should act on it, don’t you agree?”

“It wasn’t enough for you to stop the wedding.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Ransom-”

“I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot and more than I should. I’m not going to tell you to leave him, because it’s not enough for you is it? I don’t want to commit and you don’t wanna commit to me because you have no reason to.”

“Ransom-”

“But you’re still here though, aren’t you?”

“So what?”

“You want to explore this as much as I do.”

“I don’t want to explore anything with you, Ransom,” you sigh as your phone starts going off. “Jesus Christ.”

“You can answer him.”

“I don’t want to answer him. God, how is this my life now?”

“You can always come with me.”

“Ha ha,” you mumble before taking a long sip of your drink. “It’s late, I have to get back.”

“We haven’t eaten yet.”

“What is this Ransom? Why are you fucking with me?”

“I’m not, I told you; I like you.”

“You don’t-”

“You love to dance around while you cook, you think pants are ridiculous and that’s why you’re always wearing dresses and skirts, you love horror movies but have to watch something funny after or you can’t sleep, you love football and baseball, you’ll listen to anything but you favor 90’s grunge, you spend the first half of your Saturdays watching cartoons, you spend most of your holiday time volunteering at shelters, should I go on?”

“...how...”

“I pay more attention than you think, sweetheart. That crystal blue earring and necklace dragonfly set Jack got you for your two year anniversary? That was my idea because he doesn’t pay any fucking attention to you and doesn’t have a fucking clue what you like,” he mutters, frustration very apparent.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I told you why.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Y/N-”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this. Answer the question.”

“I just...”

“You just what?”

“You were never gonna give me a chance, Y/N. Between my reputation, my shitty family...you have more reasons to say no than yes.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“What would you have said?”

“Then? I honestly don’t know. Now? No.”

“Why no now?!”

“Ransom, that can’t be a serious question.”

“You like me-”

“I don’t know you! I just...you just...it’s complicated, Ransom. All of this is so complicated. I just wanna go away.”

“Lets go away together,” he suggests as if it’s not a big deal.

“You’re hilarious, truly. You could be a fucking comedian.”

“Lets fucking go. It’s not like Jack will notice. He barely pays attention to you now,” he mutters.

“Thanks for that,” you snap as your phone goes off again. “Fuck, let me just...hello?”

“I’ve been calling you for over an hour!” Jack snaps. “Where have you been?!”

“I do have a job, ya know. I decided to treat myself to dinner.”

“You haven’t been home-”

“Can we not do this? I put up with your shit last night and I don’t fucking feel like dealing with it again tonight.”

“Y/N...I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t want it to happen that way. I really...I wanted to get it right.”

“Funny how you always want to get it right and still fuck it up every single time.”

“Just come home, please? I’ll make it up to you-”

“It was our fucking anniversary and you embarrassed me, yet again, in front of the people you insisted we have over. There’s no way can make it up to me. It’s done. Four years of this shit-”

“Stop it. You know I love and would do anything for you-”

“No, I don’t know any of that, because you’ve never shown or proved any of that.”

“Just come tonight and I’ll-”

“Why should I, Jack? Give me a good fucking reason.”

“Because I love you,” he sighs and you can tell that he’s tired.

Yeah well, you’re tired too.

“I don’t feel like doing this with you, Jack. Not today.”

“Please just come home-”

“What for?”

“You’re my wife, Y/N. You should already be-”

“Me being your wife doesn’t seem to stop you from all of the shady shit you always fucking do.”

“Please-”

“I don’t know, I might stay at Daisy’s again.”

“I don’t like you staying over there! She stays out all night and-”

“So do you,” you laugh incredulously, “at least she pays attention to me.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later,” you sigh before hanging up.

“Ya know, he’s gonna text me soon. Should I tell him I have plans or...”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Ransom. I-”

“Why not? It’s not like he’s being faithful to you, so what’s the big deal?”

“Because this isn’t who I am, Ransom. This is never the life I wanted! It’s not...it’s not the life I thought I’d....” you sigh as you wipe away a lone tear.

Why can’t you be more selfish? Why can’t you jus walk away from all of this?

“Lets go away together, just you and me,” Ransom suggests again.

“That’s not funny-”

“I’m not joking.”

“We can’t just go away-”

“He isn’t going to notice, baby. I know you don’t want to face that fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s just that: a fact. Tell him it’s for work, and we’ll go wherever you want.”

“Ransom...this isn’t a relationship.”

“It can be.”

“No, it really can’t. We can’t keep-”

“You like me, babe.”

“Whether I do or not-”

“You do.”

“Ransom, I’m married. It doesn’t matter that Jack is an asshole, this isn’t me. Sleeping around and having a “relationship” on the side...God, what the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“You’re unhappy.”

“You’re never going to commit to me-”

“You don’t know that.

“Well would you? Would you walk away from all of it just for me?”

“Would you?”

“I’m not the one with something to prove, Ransom. You have reputation, I don’t.”

“That’s fair,” he sighs as he leans back.

“I need to get home.”

“You need to eat.”

“Ransom-”

“Another round of drinks?” the waiter asks with a smile.

Before you can even think, Ransom is answering, “she’ll have the crab-stuffed lobster and I’ll take the surf and turf, and yeah, we’ll take another round of drinks.”

The waiter just smiles and nods before walking off.

~~

taglist: @maroonsunrise83, @emerald-evans, @whxre4cevans, @companionjones, @fuckingbye, @autumnrose40, @pono-pura-vida, @nomadstucky, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[ronearoundblindly]

Gifts Given

a The Root of All Ransom one-shot (see series)

Summary: Ran treats you when you aren't expecting it.

Warnings for suggestive language, but this series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI, please. Also highly unedited because this is basically a deleted scene. WC 865

The private elevator slides open to the lobby of your residence. Ransom thought he would hate life in a hotel, and he does, in a way. It’s a little sterile and odd. There’s help everywhere and that may be nice at most times, but you never truly feel alone or separate from your work life and purpose for being away in a hotel.

There are perks, though, and Ran has found the perfect way to sneak you into taking advantage of one.

The bellhop trots his dolly of Ransom’s luggage off to the curb where the car waits, but instead of following outside, Ran steers you off down another hall. The extravagance of the lobby fades into serene simplicity. The spa.

“Hugh, what are we doing here. You have a flight to catch.”

“And I’ll make it to the airport just fine. You—“ he stops you in front of a cart of various infused waters, conspicuously away from the front desk “—have an appointment.”

He walks up to the counter and smiles, more so because he’s proud of himself than wanting to be friendly. He mentions your name, a facial, a massage, and a pedicure, and the hostess nods politely.

“Ransom,” you protest, stomping over with half-assed anger at best.

He knows these moods now. You don’t take time for yourself. Fine. He’ll take the time for you.

He pulls out his black card and taps it on the marble.

“I was gonna see you off,” you huff, grabbing his elbow gently.

He leans to kiss your cheek, a smooth way to cover up his whisper of, “second only to getting me off, but—“ he pulls the card out of your reach “—this is important, too.”

“Seriously, Ransom, I can just cancel it under the room.”

He tosses his card dramatically over the desk, making the poor hostess scramble to retrieve it.

“Oops. I guess they already have my card on file, so unless you want to waste my money, sweetheart…”

Your faux grumpy face is actually quite precious. It’s a shame he can’t take the time to wipe it right off your features by sucking hickeys across your chest and finger-fucking you on the ride to the airport.

Alas, decisions are made.

He knows you wouldn’t dare refuse, not with the way you stare apologetically at the woman swiping his card discretely beside a hidden computer screen.

The hostess smiles again. “Your service provider will take you back momentarily.” Her English is immaculate even if heavily accented.

Ran slides his arm around your waist while he pockets the card again.

“Just channel me for a few hours,” he mutters, planting a kiss on your temple. “Be selfish. It’s all about you.”

That makes you giggle (as he hoped), and just at the moment you tug at his scarf to chastise him, a professional woman pops out from behind an illusion wall.

“This way, ma’am.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he says, expecting you to drop into your own professional mode in the presence of others, but he’s surprised.

Your arms encircle his hips, pouring gratitude into a light squeeze that lingers as a warm caress beneath his travel clothes.

There’s a moment when you tilt your gaze to his, eyes watery but happy, and he’s not sure what’s happening or wrong or how long you two simply stare at each other. Then it’s over.

Your genuine smile is back but tamed.

“Bye, Hugh,” you whisper, smoothing the front of his shirt of imaginary wrinkles.

“Anytime,” he winks back.

Most of his trip to the States is slept through with a sleep aid he’s hoarded to use for this exact reason, but the journey is as fucking exhausting and arduous as the first time flying the other direction. Ransom is elated to find Dubois holding a sign with his name by baggage claim and shoots you a quick text in appreciation.

He doesn’t expect your immediate reply, considering the hour it is back in Beijing.

:I am a boneless puddle of human goo.

:And?

:And what?

He waits. Since you know he’s glued to the phone screen when you have time to text with him, he doesn’t have to wait long to get his point across.

:And that was very nice. Thank you.

:…not what I’m waiting for.

Ran helps your driver carry the bags to the black SUV. It takes you a few minutes to cave.

:Fine!

:You were right. I needed that.

:See? That wasn’t so hard.

He raises the partition in the car.

:And you’re welcome.

::melting emoji::

:Speaking of hard…

See, Ran is selfish to his core, and he loves phone sex. He also happens to know you are relaxed and very, very grateful. There’s no way that was on purpose.

Nope. No way.

:You aren’t even at home yet!

:I’ve got ears, don’t I? You’ll just have to give me an exact blow-by-blow.

:…

:Naughty boy.

Yes. Ransom Drysdale always gets what he wants, and he never tires of turning you on from all the way across the globe. He’s just that in control.

@supraveng @1950schick

Taglists are open. Please message or comment to be added. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!

[missuhmisery]

gay!jacob thrombey headcannons

jacob discovering he’s gay through an am i gay test bcs im really funny!!

okay so you know those am i gay tests??

and how the ads for them pop up everywhere..

well they definitely show up on every social media of his. like almost every single ad is “take the am i gay test today!?!”

and whenever he shows someone a video on youtube or something it pops up on the bottom and he’ll refresh like 20 times but it just keeps popping up every. single. time.

obviously he’s super closeted and has the worst internalised homophobia ever so naturally he surrounds himself with people who have the same views.

and one day all his friends see it and decided to take the test as a joke.

so jacob take it and gets like 77%

all his friends are laughing so he laughs it off and then when he’s at home alone he takes it again.

and again.

and again.

every time he retakes it he gets over 60%

and this like.. sends him into a total panic.

he spends the next week or so really debating this until he decides to completely ignore it (for the foreseeable future.)

[bi-bard]

Christmas Day - Benoit Blanc Imagine (Knives Out)

Title: Christmas Day

Pairing: Benoit Blanc X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 621 words

Warning(s): not having family/friends

Summary: (Y/n) had started working with Benoit Blanc more and more. When he finds out that (Y/n) doesn't have anyone to visit for the holidays, he decides to reach out and try to make their holiday season a little bit better.

Author's Note: Happy Holidays! I am not one who usually writes Christmas stories, but I thought that this would be cute.

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

I was never expecting to work with Benoit Blanc.

He was one of the best detectives in the world. He always seemed like a one-man team that may have been forced to work with others in certain situations. I didn't think that he had any interest in recruiting someone to work with him.

But after working one case with him, he started reaching out more and more.

Slowly, I started to feel like an actual partner. Like we both saw each other as equals.

Which probably wasn't close to true. He was pretty much my boss.

He was a nice guy. A little excitable when there was a mystery, but otherwise nice and honest. A good person.

I don't know how Benoit found out that I didn't have anyone to spend the holidays with. I'm sure that if I asked then I would get some long-winded explanation about how some small thing that I did or said.

I only found out that he knew when he asked me to join him on Christmas.

"What?" I replied, thinking that I must've misheard him.

"I want you to join Phillip and me for Christmas," Benoit repeated.

I was silent for a few moments before I finally got myself to shake my head. "No, no. I can't do that. I don't want to intrude-"

"Nonsense," he cut me off. "Phillip and I would be happy to have you."

I took a deep breath.

"I don't want you spending Christmas alone," he continued. "Please?"

I sighed. "Fine."

"Good," he grinned.

Christmas day, I found myself walking up to Benoit's place and knocking on the door.

"There they are," Benoit cheered as he pulled the door open. I chuckled at him.

He pulled me into a hug. I barely avoided hitting him in the back with the bag that I had brought for him and Phillip.

"Merry Christmas," he stepped back. I said the phrase back to him.

Phillip stepped around him and gave me a softer hug. "It's nice to see you, (Y/n)."

"Thank you for inviting me," I said. I held the bag out to him. "I brought a gift."

"Oh, you didn't need to do this."

"It's the least I could do," I waved him off.

"Well, it's good that you mentioned gifts," Benoit walked over to another part of the room, coming back with a wrapped gift. "Open it."

I chuckled before pulling the wrapping paper off.

It was a collection of pens. Nice pens. I traced my thumb over the case.

"You mentioned enjoying having good pens to take notes with," he explained. "There are the best that money can buy."

"You... You didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did."

"I can't accept-"

"You can and you will."

I stammered for a moment before looking down at them again.

After a few moments, I moved to hug Benoit again. He chuckled before hugging me back.

"Thank you," I muttered. "For everything. It's more than I deserve."

"That's not true," he mumbled back to me before stepping out of the hug. "Now, come on, Phillip is quite the entertaining cook."

"Only because Benoit burns everything that he touches," Phillip added.

I laughed before hopping onto the barstool next to the kitchen island.

The night was spent chatting, watching Phillip do most of the cooking, and eating.

They were both so kind to me. It didn't feel like I was a burden or that I was in the way. I felt like a part of the family. It was a new feeling for me, but I really enjoyed it. I could get used to feeling like that.

All I could hope was that I could somehow show them how much that meant to me.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[bishopgirl98]

Knives Out Master List

Ransom Drysdale

Marta Cabrera (COMING SOON)

Detective Benoit Blanc (COMING SOON)

[late-to-the-party-81]

Yesterday's Dream, Today's Nightmare

AN: Okay, this is a re-post of my fic from two days ago. It wasn't showing up in any tags what so ever, so I have deleted the original post and am trying again.

Hello all! I had a little break from writing after my sleepover, but here I am, back on my bullshit, yay!

This fic, my first ever with Ransom, is for @cockslut-padalecki 's #feelingluckychallenge. This fic is DARK, so if that's not your cup of tea, please scroll on by...

Beta'd by @christywantspizza, divider by @firefly-graphics, mood board by me, with credits going to those who took the images.

Please check out my master list

Word Count: 1398

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

CW: Manipulation, Drugging, Rape

You took a few steadying breaths as you walked up the steps to Blood Like Wine, the publishing house that you’d just landed a job at. This wasn’t any job. No, it was your dream job.

Just four weeks ago you’d been at home when you’d received a letter from the prestigious publishers, owned by famed novelist Harlan Thomby. You worked for another local, but much smaller, company and the closest connection you’d had to BLW was to be a guest at an industry party where they were also in attendance. 

You’d opened the letter, hands shaking with trepidation, and your eyes had skimmed the contents. The next moment you were jumping up and down, screaming and sending your cat dashing across your apartment and under your bed. You’d read it again, unbelieving, but there it was, in black and white. Blood Like Wine had headhunted you and wanted you to start as soon as possible. You actually had difficulty comprehending the starting salary. 

So you’d given notice at your current firm and confirmed everything with your new employer over email with one of the company administrators. Now here you were.

You pushed open the doors, marvelling at the opulence of just the reception hallway.  There was a smartly dressed woman behind the desk and you made your way towards her. However, you were interrupted by the appearance of a very tall, very handsome man, wearing a cable-knit sweater and dark slacks. He strode up to you.

“Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to Blood Like Wine.” He grasped your hand and shook it, then turned to the receptionist. “Don’t worry, Kelly, I’ve got this.” Looking back at you, he smiled and you felt a jolt of heat making its way down your body. “I’m Ransom Drysdale, Harlan’s grandson. Let me show you around.”

He guided you into the main body of the building with ease, and you could feel a tingling through your clothes where his hand lay against the small of your back. You were herded down the wide corridors and into a large office, where he slid past you and gesticulated to the plush arm-chair, facing his desk.

“Please, sit. Drink?”

He was standing next to a drink’s trolley, a cut crystal decanter in his hand, shaking it gently in your direction.

“Umm, thank you, Mr. Drysdale…”

“Ransom, please.”

“... Ransom, but it’s a bit too early for me. Umm, could I have a glass of water, though?”

“Sure, sweetheart, soda okay?”  

You felt a wave of embarrassment, tinged with frustration, wash over you at the pet-name, but you tamped it down, not wanting to cause an issue on your first day. You were glad he had turned his back to you, whilst he fixed the drinks, because it meant that he couldn’t see the expression that flashed over your face. It was always disappointing when the handsome ones ended up being pigs.  

Your smile was back on your face when he returned with your drink, passing it to you and then perching on his desk, sipping his own. 

The height difference between the large piece of wooden furniture and the soft chair you were in left him towering over you and your face level with his crotch. 

Great. So you could either tilt your head all the way back to look up at him, getting a crick in your neck or stare at his bits. You tossed back half your soda and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m so glad you took up the offer of employment. You might not know it, but you’ve been garnering attention.”

He shifted against the desk, the movement tightening the fabric across the front of his pants. Your eyes momentarily flicked down, but returned to his face almost immediately.

“And I’m glad to be here… Ransom. It’s always been a dream to work for your grandfather’s company.”

“So, you’re gonna be working closely alongside me, toots, which means we’re gonna get to know each other really well.”

You kept a smile on your face, trying to ignore the sirens going off in your head, because he couldn’t really mean what that sounded like? It must be bad phrasing, or he’s trying to see how you do under pressure. Yes, that must be it, but there was a small twitch to his lips, like he was trying to control a smirk.  

You placed your, now empty, glass down on the side table with a shaky hand, and stood up, smoothing your skirt.

“I’m sure you’ll be impressed by my professionalism.” You moved behind the chair, attempting to use it as a subtle shield. “Now, can you show me where I’ll be working. I’m sure there’s a number of systems to get set up on and for me to learn.”

Was it getting hot in here? You felt warm and shifted on your feet at the mild discomfort.

Ransom also put his glass down, pushed away from the desk and stepped towards you, reaching your side in two long-legged strides. Feeling your personal space being violated you attempted to take a step back, but wobbled on your feet, and Ransom’s hands shot out to clasp your upper arms.

“Hey, be careful now, sweetheart. Don’t wanna have an accident on your first day.”

You were feeling dizzy, and foggy, and so very warm.

“Not… your… sweetheart.”

You heard your words as if underwater, slurred and not quite right. The alarms in your head were deafening and you tried to push away from Ransom, but his grip tightened.

“But you are. You have been since I saw you at the party the other month. The way that dress clung to you, the way you laughed. Knew you were mine.”  The last word was vehement, and you risked a glance up to his face.

In your fogged state, his handsome face had taken on a sinister, predatory, façade and a whimper of fear forced its way out of your mouth. He spun the pair of you and started to steer you, backwards, across the room.

“It was so easy to send you that letter, and then add something to your water. Now you’re here with me, where you’re supposed to be and you’re gonna be a good girl, alright?”

Your legs bumped against something and you felt yourself being lowered down. Your swirling brain supplied you with the words ‘chaise lounge’, but it felt as though you were swimming through mud.

Your back hit the cushions and Ransom leaned over you, his mouth descending to smash his lips against your own. You whimpered again, but he used the moment to push his tongue into your mouth, like an invader. One of his large hands untucked your blouse from your skirt and pulled it open, to roughly palm at your breast.

His hips slotted between your legs and circled to grind his erection against your core. He grunted into your mouth and cruelly pinched your nipple through your bra. You tried to push him off, but your arms wouldn’t obey you and batted ineffectually against his arms.

He rose up, to look down on your face, his smile wide and terrifying. Letting go of you, secure that the roofie he’d slipped you was doing its job, he pushed your pencil skirt up to bunch around your waist. He then tugged at the seam of your pantyhose until they split up the middle and pushed your underwear to the side.

You squeaked in fear, and tried to flail your arms, but Ransom just ‘tutted’ and stroked your face. 

“You’ll love me in time, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your bared sex and spat on it, before rubbing his saliva around, over your clit and your folds, with his thumb. He undid his pants, drawing out his cock and jerking it a few times. In your hazy vision, you could tell he was big, and you tried once again to get away.

“Oh, that’s not nice. You being a brat? Imma fuck that out of you.”

He pressed his cock, red and weeping against your pussy and you felt tears starting to roll down your face. He wiped one off with his thumb and sucked the salty droplet into his mouth.

Then he pushed home.

You cried out, or at least tried to, and with every one of his rough thrusts prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @turbolisedcomet @goldylions

[problematicweather]

been thinking about making a benoit blanc series— the difficult part is it’s benoit blanc and i’m super critical about murder mystery plots :((((((

edit: anyone wanna read it? i wrote a quick intro i could expand on....

[charnelhouse]

flesh

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader Wordcount: 5K Warnings: Graphic Gore. Mentions of torture. Serious trauma. Very upsetting thoughts. Bad therapy. DARK subject matter. Smut. Angst. Ransom is probs OOC. Cheating. Drinking. Drug Use. The use of cunt in a mean way. This is bleak (sort of happy ending though :)) Summary: Ransom agrees to a road trip. A/N: I wrote a Ransom Drysdale/Texas Chainsaw Massacre mash-up. Don't ask me why. I started this a couple weeks ago after reading Kin and just had to get it done. Sometimes idk where my mind goes lmao. this is pretty messy bc I haven’t beta’d it. Tis a writing exercise

Ransom didn’t do road trips. He definitely didn’t do them when the whole ride was bathed in swampy heat. The air was so thick it stuck to the asphalt. They're in the middle of nowhere. Texas, maybe? He’d been drunk for most of it. He stashed expensive scotch in the trunk. Three bottles.

It’s a double date. You��re his childhood friend - a girl he’s known since he was ten years old. Harlan's goddaughter.

It’s the kind of friendship that was birthed out of necessity - force. Their parents did yearly vacations together and they just had to make something of it. Twenty years later and it’s him and it’s you and this girl, Lauren, he fucked like three times and then your somewhat-steady dimwit of a boyfriend, Paul.

Paul…the name gives him a rash.

Ransom appraises him from the backseat. The loser is tapping his fingers across the steering wheel as he hums to the music. He's like a ken doll with golden hair and tan skin and a baby-face. Ew. Lauren is riding shotgun because Ransom can’t deal with her right now. He’s just not in the mood to play his part for her today. He doesn't need her rubbing up against him as he tries to drown out whatever the hell is going spoiled in the interior of this car.

Why the fuck did he come here?

Ransom.

What?

You owe me.

For?

The millions of times that I’ve saved your ass from shit dates.

What do you want?

A road trip. New Orleans and all the way to Santa Fe. It’ll be fun.

You and me? How romantic.

No…no…bring someone.

He didn’t really bust your ass about it. He assumed that you thought that a one-on-one car ride with your kind-of-sort-of-boyfriend was just too much too soon. It’s not as if he had important things to do. He’d spent the entirety of the summer doing nothing, but jacking off to pornhub and developing a drinking problem.

As the red stain of the Texas sun bludgeons through his sunglasses, he takes another heavy swallow. The burn is more subtle now that he's reached a calming level of not-sober. It warms his esophagus, expanding throughout the shell of his chest. He’s buzzed and jittery and he can smell your flower market perfume.

At least - he was developing a drinking problem in motion rather than stretched out on his bed back in Boston.

Lauren reaches for him behind the seat - her long pink nails outstretched and waiting. He rolls his eyes and grasps her hand. He squeezes before letting go just as quickly.

You cast him an amused glance before staring past him and out toward the churning green-gold mass of the grass and fields and pale-blue sky.

Ransom can’t help but notice that you're sporting blunt nails and dark blue polish. Ugh. Lauren had been fine. She blew him in the backseat while you and 2005’s Abercrombie & Fitch rep were cuddling at a diner when they stopped in Round Rock. Lauren didn’t seem all that jealous of the fact that his closest friend was a chick and a hot one at that.

Wasn’t his fault that you grew into your face.

Also - wasn’t his fault that he’d fucked you a couple times.

It was easy for them. They were good with each other. They’d never gone beyond that because, quite frankly, he was a fucking bastard and you didn’t have the patience.

It's better this way Ransom. You'd drive me insane. We're too volatile.

You mean I'm too volatile.

Yes.

You don't complain about that when I have you on my cock.

Jesus. You're impossible.

He just liked you. He had memorized you. He knew your scent and your skin and the exact way you liked to come. Plus - you swallowed.

***

He may or may not have screwed you in the hotel back in New Orleans. They’d been out all day. Ransom had a sunburn and was surviving off a single beignet and a belly full of alcohol. Paul and Lauren had gone out to get more beers to bring back. Ransom had slipped Paul a bundle of cash to see if he could find any blow. He'd need it if he was going to get through the night.

You’d been lying next to him on the hotel’s garish crimson comforter. Both of them drunk off too many hurricanes as they rubbed against each other in that subtle way where they meant it to be platonic, but it turned into something too warm and too intimate. Your gaze met his and it happened as it always did.

His pants around his ankles and your shorts yanked off one leg so he could open you up. He spread your thighs wide and rocked into you in long, lazy strokes.

“You should break up with that guy,” he husked as he licked your jaw. The bed creaked and every punch of his cock made breathy little moans pop out of your mouth.

You didn’t answer him, but you did flex your cunt around his length so that he choked.

“Brat,” he growled as he hitched your knees over his shoulders and bent you in half. The room spun with the salt of their sweat and the wet slap of skin and his rumbling grunts. He pounded into your slick heat, feeling like he could die like this.

“C’mon, baby,” he taunted - his voice rich and smug. “You can’t tell me that someone gives it better to you than I do.”

You shook your head - eyes widening as he ground his pelvic bone into your clit. He really could make you cock dumb when he wanted. You’d be all noises - desperate uh uh uh ohmygod ohfuck ohshit -

“Ransom,” you gasped and he fucked you harder.

“That’s it,” he urged as he felt your pussy begin to spasm and twitch - milk him. He brushed his knuckles over your cheek. You were so warm - almost feverish. “That feels good, yeah? Fuck - you take my cock like you were made for it.”

It was the same song and dance. They’d date other people and then fuck once in a blue moon, which only served to remind them how sexually compatible they were. He claimed you. You claimed him. But all the rest - the emotional fallout - was sprinkled in the shadows outside the bed. Their friendship was too much to risk.

You dragged your fingers through his hair - the blunt nails scraping his scalp - before you lifted your hips so that he could plunge deeper. “Come for me, Ransom. Please…please…”

Afterward - they slowly fixed themselves. The air curiously sober. He glanced at your cunt - flushed and swollen and leaking the load he’d just filled you with. He traced his finger through your folds - making you shiver. He pushed his come back inside - his flaccid dick throbbing when you clamped around his knuckles.

“Do you use a condom with Paul?” He said his name like it was trash - like he was some nasty bothersome insect between them.

You blinked at him and the corner of your lips quirked. “What do you think?” There was no guilt in your eyes - no shock at what they'd done. This was just how it was with them. He wondered that if he ever got married - would he still keep fucking you? Probably. Your pussy was just too good. “I think they’re coming back,” you remarked with your legs still spread - your body boneless and your expression contemplative like it wouldn’t even matter if they did come back in and see them like this. He gripped the denim shorts and lacy pink underwear around your ankle and started tugging them up your leg - over the bump of your knee.

He kissed you - wet and messy and with too much tongue - until he heard the key card ping at the hotel door.

***

Ransom drops his forehead against the glass. It’s too hot here. Too sour with humidity. He shoots you a sidelong glance - grimacing as a wave of dizziness overtakes him. You're lounging against the other window, studying your phone. Weren’t you supposed to be enjoying the grand ole USA?

He swallows his spit. Too much alcohol had left him with cotton-mouth.

He wants to fuck you. Again. He wants to ditch Lauren and Paul and go back to a hotel and order expensive wine and lick your cunt.

He tips his bottle back and he feels the heat of you at his bare arm. You'd scooted closer when he wasn't looking. He’s dressed so casually. Jeans and a v-neck and he hasn’t shaved in a while because you said you liked it.

He takes another sip. Scotch really doesn’t fucking mesh with this thick Texas heat.

“You’re enjoying that,” you observe as you tap the bottle with your index finger.

You don’t chastise him. You never give him shit, which is why they work. It’s always just: Ransom. Ransom. Ransom. You’re a mess.

Sometimes you call him Hugh to really piss him off.

He smacks his lips and offers you a crooked smile. “It’s doing wonders for my boredom.”

“I heard this back way has some interesting spots,” Paul shouts over his shoulder - against the loud rolling beat of Semisonic. Lauren’s got her feet on the dash and the dude doesn’t say a word. It’s his car. If it had been Ransom’s he would have swatted her. But Ransom wouldn’t drive an SUV and Ransom wouldn’t fucking be here if it wasn’t for the girl beside him.

I can’t say no to you.

You’ve said no to me a thousand times.

Well - I don’t remember those.

You squeeze his thigh - cocking your head with a mischievous sort of gleam in your eyes. “Whaddya say, Drysdale? Want to go the back way?”

He shoves his hand under your ass and prods you through your jeans. You yelp. “I’d rather be up your back way.”

You punch him hard in the shoulder and he hisses. “Fuck you gotta lay off those boxing classes. That hurt.”

You laugh - completely unfazed by his dirty mouth. He catches Paul’s narrowed glare in the rearview mirror and smirks. Dork.

“I’m down,” Lauren yells over Third Eye Blind. Ransom winces. He wonders if he could get Paul to fuck Lauren. He already doesn’t like him for you. He’s not good enough. Too clean cut. He’s wearing a fucking polo.

Paul twists the wheel to the left and starts driving down a narrow dusty road. Ransom frowns.

Texas is too flat. It’s all long grass. It’s all sky. He misses the city and his $10k mattress and the Italian spot he could order $30 spaghetti from.

“We’re gonna get eaten by cannibals,” he grumbles but doesn’t protest. He’s really getting drunk and a part of him thinks he’s about to blow this whole thing up. He’s going to fondle you or kiss you or finger you regardless of Lauren or Paul. You lean toward him - your warm breath fanning across his face. You’d been chewing bubble gum and he savors the sweet artificial bite to it. “I’ll protect you.”

He’s definitely gonna fuck you again.

“You’re good at that.”

“I’ve got decades of practice.”

He pushes the bottle into your hands. “Get drunk with me.”

You take a sip - a second - a third. He could lurch forward and tug your bottom lip between his teeth. He’s hoping the look he’s sending you reads: fuck me fuck me fuck me.

There’s no one else in this car, but them and Stephen Jenkins.

You wipe your chin and hand him the bottle back. His mouth sticks to the print of your lip gloss around the neck. He downs another shot. The car bounces over the unpaved road.

“I feel like this is a bad idea,” he mutters.

You shrug. “You and I do nothing, but bad ideas.”

“Touché, bestie.”

***

Eight months later - he still can’t sleep through the night. He hates open doors. He always catches figures strolling through the hallway outside his bedroom. Shadows. The smell of rotting meat.The buzz of flies.

Sometimes he looks in the mirror and flinches because he sees another Ransom. His eyes bloody - the vessels blown and turning the sclera to red. He grips the sink until his knuckles turn white. He can’t breathe. His chest is so tight that it shudders and twitches and his lungs won't inflate the way that they should.

He crawls into your bed when it gets too bad, which is pretty much every night. You’d moved in with him after your parents had finally allowed you to. Your mom stays over more often than not. Sometimes his mom stays over, which is a shock in itself. Joni brings them healing crystals, which makes you laugh (not a nice laugh either). Meg won’t shut up about how often they’re on the news until he finally blocks her number. It’s not like it matters. Nothing really matters to him anymore, but you and the hard thrum of your heart when it beats beneath his ear.

You had been soaked in blood and he had tasted it.

Now they are in his sumptuous bedroom with its dark green walls and linen sheets. Egyptian cotton. The taste of riches and everything - everything - is ash.

“How are we here?” he murmurs into your neck - his fingers twisting around yours - careful of the dull nub of flesh where one used to be. You had screamed when it had happened and it had gutted him.

I can’t get to you. I can’t get to you. I’m sorry.

“Because we got out,” you shrug like it’s not a big deal - like they hadn’t been on the very cusp of death. Not even death. It had been an event. It had been oily and disgusting. The scent of rot and old fat and so much blood. He’d never realized that blood could literally have a smell and a taste as it filled a room. Metallic. Bitter. Like licking rusty pipes.

“Did we?” he asks. “Doesn’t feel that way sometimes.”

You don’t reply. You curl your fingers into his shirt. The Henley is soft on his skin. He can’t stand anything not soft. Starched fabric and paper gowns had caught on his stitches. They'd left him cold and shivering and vulnerable. Sometimes you’ll take his shirt off to drag your touch across the newly closed wounds - still pink and angry. His torso was going to be nothing, but scars. His muscles - so carefully built by his trainer and his protein shakes - had lost their thickness. They had to shave his chest when they attended to him at that horrific hospital in Texas. It’s all barely growing back.

His throat works. He wraps his arms around your waist - pressing the side of his face to your breast where he can feel your lungs expand.

“Do you think they know where we are?”

You make a soft, contemplative sound.

“Do you dream of them? Do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply in a tight voice - your entire body locking up in Ransom’s hold. He’s a little loopy from his meds. He’d gotten bottles of anti-anxiety solutions: Xanax. Klonopin. Zoloft. Ambien.

He has a lot of doctors.

All the orange bottles stand on his bedside table like toy soldiers. He can’t drink Scotch anymore.

***

He’s not sure how you manage. You’d gotten the worst of it.

At least he’s pretty sure you did. You’d looked like something not living when you’d crawled toward him. They’d been separated into different rooms. Wooden backwoods huts. The monsters who’d done it were all yellowed teeth and greasy hair and yet there’d been something like mischief in their eyes when they took him apart - like this was all a game - it was all so fun -

“Whaddya say, Drysdale? Want to go the back way?”

You had come out stronger. He was tortured - unable to make sense. Sick. You were bitter and pissed off and so fucking quiet even though you had saved him. You had ripped yourself out of those chains and clawed your way to him. Your body broken. Your mouth bleeding. Your beautiful face distorted into something...unreal.

Your hands are warm on his cheeks and he flinches. He hurts everywhere. Agony in his stomach. He’d been stabbed more than once. He thinks. He can’t feel his feet. He hangs like a sack of meat. That’s what they are. They’re cattle. Pigs. He’s half-carved up. He’s missing something. He knows he is. His teeth even hurt. He doesn’t want to look down.

Ransom. Ransom. We have to get out of here.

Look at me, Drysdale.

His eyes are swollen shut, but he manages to peel one lid open. He tries to. For you. Your expression is horrific - disfigured. Still lovely, though. He can't fucking imagine what monsters do to beautiful things. He wishes he’d taken you to that hotel. Something hot and loud screams in your pupils. Your swollen lips curl into a terrifying sort of smile. There's blood in your perfect white teeth.

I killed one of them. We don’t have much time. I’m gonna get you down.

He’s missing two fingers and three toes and you’re missing fragments in vital places. Chunks. A screw loose. You’ll never be the same again and neither will he and that somehow works. They hadn’t fit together before. He was too sharp and narcissistic and you were too rounded and sweet.

Apparently, he’d been a coward and you’d been built for disaster. You’d thrived in it - blossomed and unfurled into something those pieces of shit could be scared of.

Ransom thinks they mold now - slip into each other’s openings. He’s honestly glad that he fucked you in that New Orleans hotel before they’d gone down that wrong road in bum fuck nowhere. He’s glad he got to have you as you were before. It’s always before now. Before that. Before the fall. Before Ransom discovered what true fear really felt like.

He’s glad he got to have you because now he can compare. The girl - the woman - he has now is galaxies removed from who she’d been. You are brighter regardless of what you are missing. You’re his. He tastes your grief when he drinks from you because it’s his, as well. They share this. There is no one else who’d understand because the others died almost immediately.

It should have been me. I should have saved you.

You didn’t have the opening that I did. I’m sure you would have if you got the chance.

He doesn’t have the same faith in himself that you do. He’d been pretty ready to die after your screams started to go quiet and he had lost track of the flesh he was losing.

***

A year passes and his grandfather strips him for stories. He’s not blunt or mean about it, but he does ask out of his own morbid curiosity.

Harlan waits for what he must think is the appropriate amount of time. He tries to shove his questions into his concerned observations at the dinner table

“My god - you’re lucky to be alive, Ransom! You poor boy. What did they use?”

What did they use?

What did they NOT use?

The question sends him right back to those manacles and those wooden walls and all that blood. He glares at the chicken on his plate. Vomit curdles in his throat. Something pinches behind his nose - his eyes.

Ransom starts crying and his grandfather shuts up - horrified. Marta even stares at him with something akin to pity - sorrow - as if he’s just a flattened animal on the road. His mother does this strange thing where she opens and closes her mouth like a dying carp.

You act quickly - scooting out of your chair, rushing toward him, and sweeping him up with the intensity of a rogue wave. You cradle his face to your warm soft tits and he hates that he’s thinking of your tits while you’re trying to rescue him from a panic attack - but then he thinks:

Shit - that’s somewhat close to who I was before.

His hand comes to rest on your ass and he inhales your cashmere sweater - the plush smell of detergent. He’d like to be inside you. He’d like to push himself into you and watch your face change as you stretch around him.

He’s suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of sex.

Yes - that’s a relief. Bits of Ransom still remain.

***

In his nightmares, he still hears the chains clink and tick. They’d hung from the roof of that shack. Rusted hooks. His wrists had been chafed to raw, red tissue.

The tires of Paul’s SUV had been torn to shreds. Ransom remembers stumbling out of the car and seeing the sun glint off a spike strip in the distance.

“Something’s wrong,” he said more to himself than anyone else. He’d sobered up almost immediately.

They’d trekked a mile until they’d come upon the lone house. He’d gotten a sick feeling, but he’d blamed it on the alcohol. The Scotch churned in his gut. Sweat sheeted down his shoulders and into the back of his jeans.

The house was dilapidated. Peeling white paint. A splintering porch. A threadbare rope swing in the trees.

They’d knocked on the door and Lauren was the first to die. Ransom still remembers the shock of seeing a skull get crushed in by a mallet. It had felt far away as if he didn’t know that the body in front of him was Lauren - that the wet spray that touched his face was blood and tissue and brain. Not sweat.

The sound stuck with him though. He can’t forget it. He can't eat melons anymore.

At that moment, he hadn’t really thought. He’d grabbed your wrist and yanked you down the stairs of that shitty porch and ran.

***

They sleepover at his grandfather’s because he doesn’t feel like driving home. He’s stunned that he had cried in front of them. He didn’t do that. He hasn’t cried in front of anyone since he was eight.

“Let’s go to bed,” you murmur as you touch his shoulder. He stares at the scarred tissue where your index finger was and grimaces.

They sleep together and no one says a word because that’s just how it is now. It’s you. It’s me.

***

Their parents are pleased that they’re together now. It's what they've assumed since they don't leave each other's side. Maybe - it really is true. That day had sewn them into one single body. They'd been close before. You were closer than anyone had ever been to Ransom. But, now, they were stuck. They were mated.

"We always knew you two would end up like this," his mother smiled before frowning - perhaps realizing what she'd said and what it implied seeing as they'd had to crawl through Hell to get there. "I just - I just meant that you're a couple. You're finally a couple. I always thought she was good for you-“

"Shut up, mom." Ransom hissed. "Just shut up."

Funny that no one in the family realized they’d been fucking since they were teenagers. The first time had been in the sand on Nantucket and you hadn’t even been beautiful then. You’d just been awkward and soft and it felt like a good idea. They’d shared ice cream afterward.

He stares up at the ceiling as you lie beside him. Your breathing is even and comforting. Harlan’s house makes too many noises, but Ransom likes the fact that it’s filled with people. Staff. His mother who had become overly maternal since Ransom nearly died. It was strange because it didn't fit her. She wasn’t the shape of a mother.

Without looking at you - he places his hand on your stomach. You jerk a bit before you relax. You put your palm on the top of his hand.

“I love you,” he declares like he declared it a year ago.

***

He hadn’t been the hero. You’d saved him. You’d gotten loose and shoved a shard of wood through one of their eyes and then had dragged him to the road. You had thick splinters stuck in the tender meat of your fingers.

Come on. Come on. Come on, Ransom. You have to work with me here. I can’t lift you.

Yes - yeah good job just like that. Fuck - don’t stop. The others might come back.

A selfish part of him - the old envious part - wondered if you would have saved Paul had he been alive. He doubts it. He hadn’t even thought of anyone else when he had tried to run from the house with your wrist in his hand. Paul didn’t exist. Lauren was definitely dead (there'd been brain on his shirt to prove it) and even if she had been alive, it still would have been you he tried to protect.

He could barely see. His eyes were swollen and blood sluiced down his brow from a cut reopening. He had broken ribs. A punctured lung. He was sure of it. He gritted his teeth against the pain and kept his focus on the dead grass and dirt beneath their feet. You'd had pink toenail polish. He was missing toes.

From behind them, orange light filtered over the green and danced across the white wispy cotton. He tried to look over his shoulder.

"Don't," you hissed as you wrapped your arm tighter around his waist - his bones shifting together. He bit back a howl. "Don't look. Just move."

He had smelled smoke. Acrid and harsh on top of the hundred-plus heat.

"Did you burn the house down?" he managed to ask - a caustic laugh riding his tongue. It was the first thing he had said since you'd freed him from the chains. He was grateful his tongue worked. His throat was violently dry.

"Hopefully," You growl. He never asked how you were able to do it.

He thinks they may have run a mile though "run" was probably not the apt term. Crawled. Stumbled. Jerked. Neither of them had shoes and they had to walk beside the road because the asphalt was too hot. A pick-up slowed. The driver had nearly screamed at the sight of them until Ransom had gripped him roughly around his overalls - staining the denim with dark black blood.

"Hospital.” He grunted. "Hospital. Now."

"Get in," the driver wheezed - fingers trembling around the steering wheel. Thank. Fuck.

Ransom nodded and turned toward you. You blinked owlishly at him as if you couldn't quite remember where you were. It took a moment before your face completely crumpled.

"Shit," he cursed in a low voice before grasping your waist. "C'mon, baby. I've got you."

You went limp - deflating with the final sparks of your adrenaline. He used his last bit of strength to lift you up and drop you into the truck's bed.

“They’re still coming,” you mumbled as you grabbed at Ransom - tugging him in after you. “They could still be coming.”

He stared at the horizon - where they had escaped from. The great stain of smoke rushed toward the sun from the burning house. He thought he saw figures in the distance. He might have. He also could barely see three feet in front of him due to his crushed eye socket.

"No one is coming," he assured you. "No one."

You were shivering. Your skin like ice. Your lower lip quivered in a way that made him inhale sharply.

The bed of the truck was covered in rope and a plastic tarp. It reeked of a farm: manure and cattle. He missed the city.

He collapsed, resting his head in your wet lap. Blood in his hair. The house - those rooms - had painted them in their smell: meat, urine and sweat. There were those splinters in your palm as you stroked his face - your breathing hurried and panicked. He said your name. Repeated it.

It was no longer about him. It was no longer him at all. It was you. It was only you and the sun felt raw and white against his closed lids. At the time, he really thought he was dying. He could have been. The hospital had said both of them were in critical condition when they’d finally arrived. He had been going cold - the heat in his chest beginning to dissipate. His mouth was dry as wool as he struggled for each gasp of oxygen. His blood was leaving him too quickly.

“I love you,” he said as he tangled his gore-ridden fingers around yours.

“You’re not dying,” you replied bluntly. There’d been no room for argument.

***

It had been that way ever since. It was a push and pull. It was an equilibrium of sorts. You went dark and he found you - yanking you to the surface. He broke down and you shoved him back together.

He was still selfish in so many ways. The only difference was that his selfishness was now projected onto you. His entire fucking existence revolved around your well-being. It was probably unhealthy. His therapist, Dr. Stephens, had used words like "co-dependent" and "love addiction".

Dr. Stephens had also pointed out all the things that triggered him like when he threw up at the sight of the Christmas Roast or when he sat in his closet for an hour because he heard the rumble of a chainsaw. The gardeners were just cutting down a tree in the front yard.

"Don't you think she's a reminder for you? You both dealt with so much that day. You're relying on her to the point where you can't function without her presence."

Ransom's mouth parted - his fingers digging into the armrests of the velvet chair. His lungs shriveled. His chest tightened. Blood pounded at his temples. His fury knocked him flat. It had been shades of the old him - bursting forth and off his tongue and it spilled out of his veins and guts and brain. The very idea of removing you from his life made him sick.

"She saved me, you dumb cunt."

He stood up and walked out the door and found another therapist.

***

He sits back on his heels - studying your face - your body - painted across his bed like Ophelia in that Millais painting.

He uses one hand to clasp your waist as he braces his other hand beside your head. You’ve lost so much weight from anxiety. You look like you’ve been carved out. The memories split your mask in two and this is the face you give him. The real one. The burnt-out one.

I'm tired, Ransom. I'm really fucking tired.

The terror for them had been just as real as the agony those maniacs had inflicted.

I know. I know.

He’s gentle about it. He slowly tugs your pajama shorts off. He tastes the skin of your stomach - drags his mouth over your hip and inner thigh before he slips his tongue between your legs. You even taste different - like there’s the tiniest flicker of spice at the base of you. There are scars and he kisses them and he thinks that he will now always see you as that girl who had yanked him out of that shack - coated in a thick film of blood - eyes wild and feral and furious as you led him to safety.

He’s very careful when he sinks into you. He covers your mouth with his so he can lap at the moan that escapes from your throat. It’s a slow pace. He draws his cock back before he pushes in again. The mattress creaks. You bury your nose into his neck and sigh with each stroke he delivers.

“Is this okay?” he asks as he peppers kisses across the edge of your jaw.

He doesn’t remember how to fuck hard - how to be rough and unyielding. He doesn't remember how to be a piece of shit asshole or how to wear his Rolex again (they had taken it and his mother had bought him a new one). What he does remember is how to make you burst around him - he remembers your tells and your kinks and your wants before you need to voice them.

“Are you okay?” he repeats to be sure.

“Yes,” You spread your thighs wider. You dig your nails into his ass to force him deeper.

He quickens his movements. He sneaks his arm between them and uses his thumb to circle your clit. Your breathing becomes more hurried - your lashes fluttering - sweat collecting at your hairline. Your eyes glassy with all the bushes tears you save for him. “Ransom,” you plead in a way that is nearly a sob. “Please.”

He claims your lips just as you come. Your pussy contracting around him - your knees tightening at his hips. He is soon to follow - wrung dry by your body as you swallow him whole. He rolls onto his back, bringing you along so that you’re lying flat on top of him. Chest to chest.

“I don’t feel like sleeping.” You trace the gnarled flesh of his shoulder where a dirty blade had pierced him and given him tetanus. He grabs a handful of your ass. You’re so warm - feverish with the afterglow of sex. Your heart pounds against his. He touches you all over sometimes. Just to make sure.

“Get drunk with me?” he proposes and it reminds him of the last time he had said that. His lungs wrinkle and distort. His stomach turns over. You lift yourself up to gaze down at him - fully aware of where his mind has gone. You clasp his chin to wrench his face to yours.

“Let’s do it,” You steal his breath with a harsh, desperate kiss that burns right through him. It kind of hurts and he kind of likes it. No surprise that their relationship to pain has been thoroughly fucked.

“No Scotch,” He brushes his knuckles over your cheek - right where another scar stretches under your eye.

“No Scotch,” you agree.

He smirks and it tastes like himself.

[sunriserose1023]

A Friendly Wager

So I decided to join in on this Perfect Hoeliday Treat Challenge, put on by the amazing @navybrat817, @stargazingfangirl18​, and @drabblewithfrannybarnes​. The prompts I received were: 

-Ransom Drysdale -Turning a holiday Grinch’s frown upside down -Friends with benefits -Quote: “Gonna give you the best gift of all, a belly full of me.”

And this is what became of it all. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and here’s to 2022!

PAIRING: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader WORD COUNT: 5634 WARNINGS: Fluff, smut, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smidges of angst, bad (and I mean BAD) puns, explicit sexual content including alluded to sexy times, fingering, squirting, facesitting, cockwarming, car sex, vaginal sex (always use protection, kids), questionable tastes in Christmas music and movies SUMMARY: When your friend with benefits announces he hates Christmas, you make it your mission to change his mind.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful—

Not really. The weather was pleasant, but cold. 

But the fire is so delightful—

Not cold enough for an actual fire, but the fireplace thing you’d found on Netflix added to the ambiance without making you feel like you were melting. 

Since we’ve no place to go, Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

Now that was something you could get behind. Let it snow, like the forecast was predicting for next week. It would be just perfect and get you even more in the holiday spirit. 

You finished fluffing the section of your artificial Christmas tree, humming along as your Christmas music playlist switched to another song. 

Sleigh bells ring, Are you listening?

You stopped and glanced towards the couch, where your phone was resting on the arm. You went up on your toes to see who had texted you, but the screen went dark. You huffed a breath as you went back to your flat feet, giving the branch you were working on one last fluff before you went to pick up your phone. 

Hey. 

You up?

The eye roll you gave nearly hurt, and you shook your head as you set your phone down and went back to the tree. Before you could even get back to humming along to the music, your phone chimed again. 

Come on, I know you’re up. I can see the light on. 

You narrowed your eyes, thumbs flying over the keyboard. 

You’re spying on me now? I’m not spying, I’m outside. 

“Damn it.”

Let me in. It’s cold as shit out here.

You wanted to text back “freeze,” but you didn’t mean it. And your Christmas cheer made you too happy to let anything bring you down, so you skipped to your front door and unlocked it. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, tan coat open, colorful scarf hanging over his shoulders, cream-colored cable knit sweater that nearly made your panties disintegrate stretched over his wide chest. You pursed your lips, hanging onto the doorknob. 

“Ransom, how nice of you to drop by.” “Don’t play stupid with me, honey. Let me in.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping aside before he could push his way past you. He rubbed his hands together as you shut and locked the door, sliding his coat off his shoulders. He went still as he looked into the living room, taking a few steps with his coat still hanging halfway down his arms. 

“What the fuck is this?”

You snorted, stepping around him as you went back to the tree. 

“This is Christmas, Hugh. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, tossing his coat and scarf over the back of the chair where your Christmas wreath was resting. He shook his head as he propped his hands on his hips. 

“It looks like Christmas threw up in here.” “I had no idea of your aversion to Christmas, Scrooge.” “It’s not an aversion, it’s just … who really cares?”

Your eyes were wide when you looked at him, peeking around the tree. 

“Are you serious?”

Ransom shrugged, and your mouth dropped open as you shook your head, rounding the tree to stand before him. 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” “That’s a crock of shit. It’s the worst time of year.”

Your jaw dropped, eyebrows narrowing. 

“How can you say that?” “Because I know people. They can say how much Christmas means to them and put on a show for a while, but by December 26th, they’re all back to being conniving or bitchy or mean. The same way they act every other day of the year. Why even bother?”

You blinked, shaking your head. 

“Can’t you feel the magic in the air? I mean, I get what you’re saying. People suck. But for a little while, they … suck less.” 

Ransom raised an eyebrow as he stared at you. Your lips curled into a smile as you propped a hand on your hip. 

“Want to make a bet, handsome Ransom?”

He tilted his head, letting you know he was listening. 

“I bet you that by Christmas Day, I can change your mind about the holiday season.” “You’ve got that much faith in yourself?” “Not myself. The magic of Christmas.”

Ransom rolled his eyes. 

“What do I get when I win?” “If you win … I don’t know. We can figure out the details later.” “I need to know details before I engage in a bet.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes this time.

“Just go with it, would you? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Ransom smiled, holding out a hand. 

“Alright. I’ll take your bet.”

You put your hand in his, the two of you shaking once. Ransom gave your hand a tug, pulling you closer, and you smiled as you stumbled, your hands coming to rest against his chest. 

“I need to finish the tree.” “I’ve got a better finish in mind.”

You rolled your eyes, closing them as Ransom leaned in closer, his hand slipping under your shirt as his lips touched yours. 

You turned from your spot on the floor to look at Ransom on the couch and he shook his head. 

“That’s just creepy.” “It is not!” “‘He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake? He knows if you’ve been bad or good?’ Jesus, he’s a stalker!” “He’s not a stalker, he’s Santa.”

Ransom shook his head, propping one leg on the arm of your couch. 

“‘You better watch out’ isn’t just a lyric. It’s good advice.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“So the consensus so far is Santa Claus Is Coming to Town is ‘creepy,’ Silent Night is ‘boring,’ and we’re not going to get back into the debate about I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” “No one puts presents ON the tree. It’s stupid.”

You held up a hand, smiling to yourself as Ransom grumbled under his breath. You glanced up as you scrolled through your playlist of Christmas songs. 

“I take it Santa wasn’t a regular at the Drysdale home?”

Ransom shook his head. 

“Linda was too busy. I spent Christmas with my grandparents for the first couple of years, and they did the whole Santa thing. My dad told me the truth about Santa after my grandma died.”

You lifted your eyes to him, shaking your head. 

“That’s so sad.”

Ransom lifted his shoulders, then nodded to you. You clicked on a song and smiled as the music began. After a minute, Ransom leaned forward. 

“Hang on, the wind speaks to a lamb, and then the lamb goes to talk to a shepherd boy? What schizo wrote that?”

You put your head in your hand. 

“Do You Hear What I Hear is a classic. Even Queen Whitney Houston—may she rest in peace—covered it!” “Even if Queen Whitney sang it, it’s still trippy.”

You glanced down at your playlist. You couldn’t decide whether to take a chance and play Mariah Carey, unsure if Ransom would ruin the song for you or actually like it. You could always try Michael Buble, glorified king of Christmas music, but you settled on an older song instead. 

Ransom started to laugh when he heard the opening lyrics. 

“I’ve heard this one. You can’t be serious. The rape-y vibes are too much.” “Rapey?! Are you kidding me?” “She’s trying to leave and he won’t let her! He drugs her.”

You paused the song, blinking as you looked at him. 

“When does he drug her?” “Play it again.”

You did, Ransom stopping you at the line he was talking about. You shook your head. 

“Okay, first of all, this song is super old. Like, older than roofies, okay? And she’s the one who says ‘maybe just a half a drink more.’” “Yeah, but then she says ‘what’s in this drink,’ so what’s that about?” “Maybe he poured it a little too strong.” “See? Rapey.”

You cocked an eyebrow as you turned from your spot on the floor, facing Ransom on the couch. 

“We’ve done that before.” “Done what?”

You leaned back on your hands, crossing your ankles. 

“I’ve tried to leave and you insisted on one more drink. Which then, of course, turns into shots.”

He smiled, resting back against the couch. 

“When has that ever happened?” “I can remember a few times.”

Ransom shook his head. 

“No, it’s … it’s a little hazy for me.” “Really?”

You sat up, shifting your body until you were kneeling before him. 

“You don’t remember that time when Meg brought her friends over?” “God, she gets on my last nerve.” “I know. But then they left and I was putting on my coat and you said ‘wait. Let’s have one more.’”

Ransom’s hands gave you the stability you needed to push yourself up, and he kept holding your hands as you straddled his lap. 

“I tried to tell you that I needed to go home. But you insisted. ‘Just do one shot with me.’” “And you did.”

You pulled your hands from his, pushing your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes drift shut. 

“I did. But then you remembered we needed limes and salt, so we had to do another one.” “And then you took the lime out of my mouth when we did the next one.”

His eyes opened, the blue burning as he stared at you, his voice going deeper when he spoke. 

“That’s when you got hot, so you took your shirt off.” “Which made the next one turn into a body shot.”

Ransom groaned when you raked your nails over his skull. His big hands were at your hips, squeezing and releasing. He blinked his eyes open, the blue almost burned away. 

“Did we finish that bottle of tequila?”

You grinned. 

“Oh, we both finished that night. A couple of times, if my spotty memory serves. But who cares about the tequila?”

Ransom nodded, moaning softly as you closed the space between the two of you and kissed him. Your lips danced down his neck and he gave a shaky exhale. 

“Maybe the song’s not so bad after all.” “Baby, it might be cold outside, but it’s warm in here.” “It’s fucking hot in here. Take your shirt off.”

You giggled as you did as he asked, moaning as his warm hands covered your bare back, pressing you closer. 

You propped yourself up from where you’d been laying against Ransom’s chest and met his eyes. You held out a hand and raised your eyebrows. 

“See? Christmas movie.”

He pursed his lips, then nodded in agreement. You laughed as you sat up against the couch. 

“Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker. I told you I was right!”

Ransom laughed, shaking his head as you stretched to pick up the DVDs on the coffee table before you. 

“So are we feeling comedy next or do you feel like crying?” “I feel like there needs to be something before the next movie.”

He bounced his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes. 

“We are supposed to be watching Christmas movies.” “And we have. You were the one who promised sexual favors in between.” “Yeah, but if I suck your dick right now, you’re going to fall asleep and miss the movie.”

Ransom looked offended for half a second before he chuckled. You bit the inside of your cheek, then spoke. 

“I’ll give you a handjob and then we’ll watch The Family Stone.” “Why not Christmas Vacation?” “Because I want you to bask in the glory that is Clark and the Griswolds and once you come, you’re going to doze off and miss it all, I just know it.”

Ransom sat up. 

“Blowjob, I return the favor, we both take a nap, then we watch Christmas Vacation.”

You held his gaze for a moment, then smiled. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Drysdale.” “I’d like to drive something else hard.” “Oh my god, you’re the worst!”

He laughed as he reached for you, and you let him pull you closer, your lips meeting as the end credits for Die Hard scrolled over the TV. 

“Hand me the pecans.”

Ransom did, watching as you poured the nuts into a measuring cup, then into the sticky mixture in the large mixing bowl in front of you. 

“And what are these again?” “Millionaires. Not like you, a different kind of millionaire.”

Ransom gave you a look that made you giggle as you stirred the pecans into the caramel. You nodded towards the wax paper you’d spread over your kitchen counter. 

“I’ll spoon these onto the paper, we’ll let them harden a bit, then dip them in chocolate. But in the meantime…”

Your oven beeped as the timer went off and you smiled back at Ransom. 

“Can you get the cookies out of the oven?” “Did you want me to come over for a reason, or is it just so you can use me to open shit and get shit out of the oven?” “I had a reason, Scrooge.”

Ransom pulled the pan of chocolate cookies out of the oven, setting it aside as he turned to watch you spoon the caramels onto the paper. 

“And what was that reason?” “Well for one, you can take your grandfather’s goodies to him when I’m done.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you set the bowl in your sink. You washed your hands and turned to him, the Kiss the Cook on your apron making him want to smile, even if he tamped it down and frowned instead. He raised an eyebrow and you set the towel you’d dried your hands on aside. 

“Everything needs to set or harden, so we’ve got some time.” “That right?”

You nodded as you pulled the apron off, hanging it beside your refrigerator. Ransom’s eyebrows raised when you tugged your shirt up over your head, his gaze lingering on your chest when he realized you’d foregone a bra that day. You propped your hands on your hips, waiting for Ransom’s eyes to meet yours again. 

“You still want to be a Grinch or do you want to have a little fun?” “I’m all for the fun.” “Then take off your sweater.”

He did, the cable knit dropping to the floor without a second thought. You stepped closer to him, arms looping around his neck as his hands went to your hips. You moaned softly as Ransom’s hands moved under your ass, lifting you and holding you close as he walked into the den, laying you on the couch and tugging your leggings down. You helped as best you could, sitting up and unbuckling his belt, leaving it in his pants as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. 

Ransom’s head fell back with a groan as you gripped his erection, and you smiled as you stroked the hard, velvety heaviness. He shook his head, reaching for your hand and holding it as he shimmied down the couch, until his face was even with your pussy. 

It was your turn to groan when Ransom pulled your hips down, his tongue attacking your folds, making you wetter than you already were. One of your hands gripped a handful of his hair, whimpering his name as he took your clit between his lips. You closed your eyes as you focused on Ransom and what he was making you feel, letting the stress you’d been trying so hard not to focus on drift away. 

One of Ransom’s hands went to knead your ass cheek, a slap against your skin making you jolt forward on his tongue. He hit you again just to hear you moan, answering you in kind when you started moving your hips back and forth. 

“I’m close, Rans—oh, god. Right there.”

He held you still as his tongue continued lashing over your clit, and your grip on his hair tightened as you came. You opened your eyes as your chest heaved with every breath, wincing as you moved your stiff legs, laying back on the couch. Ransom sat up and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth, kissing your stomach before latching onto your breast, kneading the other in his warm hand. 

“God, that feels good.”

You groaned as Ransom sucked harder, pulling back and blowing on your nipple before moving to the other one. You nodded, hand moving to cup his cheek before nudging him up where you could kiss his lips. His hand slid into the cushion behind your head, and you broke the kiss when you heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. 

“You hid a condom in my couch?” “Like a week ago, after the Christmas music debacle.”

You narrowed your eyes as Ransom rolled the condom on, and he gave a quiet chuckle. 

“Don’t try to act like you’re not proud of me for taking initiative.”

You rolled your eyes, moving your hands to his face and holding him as you kissed him. Ransom sighed into the kiss when you slid your hands into his hair, scratching your nails over his scalp. You opened your eyes when he pulled away from the kiss, head ducked just a bit to watch your body take him in. When he was fully seated, his eyes met yours, the two of you staring at each other as you adjusted to his girth. After a silent minute, you nodded, and Ransom gave you a nod before he slid back, thrusting gently forward, making you moan. 

There were times the “friends with benefits” agreement between the two of you blurred the lines. Sure, sometimes Ransom just needed to get off, like that one time when he stormed into your house, pushed you onto your knees and fucked your face until he came down your throat and you were hoarse for two days. Sometimes you just wanted release, like that time you pushed him onto his living room floor and rode him like your life depended on it while he just stared at you in awe. Sometimes you couldn’t stand to look at him, and others you loved when he put you on all fours and fucked you like a whore. 

And then sometimes, as frantic as it starts, the fucking turns into lovemaking. Like the time on his birthday when he wouldn’t let you talk, so you worshiped his body as much as he’d let you, before he filled you and held you until the sun came up. And that random Wednesday when your workday was absolute shit and he came over and just listened to you bitch and moan, then ate you out so good you ended up crying, but he didn’t say a word and just held you instead. 

Sometimes you can’t take your eyes off him as he gives you everything you need. You convince yourself it’s not stars you see in his eyes, that he isn’t really staring at you like you’re the only thing in his universe, like you might be the one to save him. You convince yourself that Ransom really is just your fuckbuddy, that the handsome black sheep of the Thrombey family couldn’t love you like you love him. 

No. 

Not that. 

Anything but that.

“Stay with me.”

Ransom’s deep voice pulls you out of your head and you nod, closing your eyes as he swivels his hips and hits that spot deep inside. His hand drifts down and his thumb starts rubbing your clit, but you reach down and grab his wrist, pulling his hand up as you shake your head. 

“Just you.”

Ransom groans as you take his thumb into your mouth, and he buries his head in your hair, lips sucking a mark into your shoulder as he doubles down and thrusts harder. 

“God, you’re so tight. Every time.”

You clench down just to hear his ragged moan, slide your hands over his back, dig your nails in when he hits your spot again. 

“Ransom.” “I got you.”

You keen as he pushes your leg up, giving him the chance to push in deeper, his gravelly moan mixing with yours as you tighten around him, so warm and wet as you come for the second time. Ransom jolts forward, groaning long and low as he fills the condom. 

Ransom gently set your leg down, almost panting, chest heaving as he started to sit back. 

“Wait.”

He met your eyes, your mouth moving, no sound leaving your lips. Ransom smiled softly, settling back over you, lips finding yours as he lazily shifted his hips. You hummed as you kissed him back until he slipped out of you, murmuring an apology against your lips. He pulled back and looked down at you, seeing you staring up at him, and Ransom dipped to kiss you one more time before he stood up and walked to the bathroom. You moved a hand to your forehead, closing your eyes and blowing out a breath before sitting up and going to the other bathroom.

“I thought we were—hang on. Okay, there. This is not what I had in mind when you said we were going to look at Christmas lights.” “If you—stop! Do not rip these. They’re my favorites.” “I’ll buy you new favorites.” “That’s not how it—oh, shit. Okay. Never mind.” “That’s what I thought.”

You giggled as you held yourself up, watching Ransom stretch his long body as best he could in the cramped backseat of his Beamer. Two of his fingers were inside you, the panties you swore were your favorites shoved to the side. He curled his fingers and you moaned, blinking your eyes open when Ransom spoke. 

“Unbutton your shirt. Let me see your tits.”

You did as he asked, unbuttoning your shirt while his fingers moved in and out of you. You left your shirt on your shoulders, pulling down the cami and bra you had on underneath. 

“Fuck, I love your tits.” “Fuck, you’re good at that.”

Ransom grinned at you as he leaned forward, taking a nipple in his mouth as he added a third finger. 

“Shit, Ransom.” “You can take it.” “You’re not fisting me in the backseat of your car.”

Your nipple fell from his mouth. 

“But I can somewhere else?”

You tried to roll your eyes, but he hit a spot that felt so good. You whimpered and he spoke again, voice gravelly. 

“You want to come like this or on my cock?”

You nodded, and Ransom chuckled. 

“Words, baby. Use your words.” “I can’t think when you keep doing that.” “Doing what? This?”

He pressed your clit hard with his thumb and you sobbed out a breath. 

“Ransom, please.”

You squealed when his thumb went into overtime, and before you knew it, you were coming hard on his hand. 

“Holy shit.”

You couldn’t open your eyes; your body was still twitching with aftershocks. Ransom carefully slid his fingers from you, glancing up at your quiet moan when he was free. Ransom shook his head, his voice tinted with awe. 

“You squirted all over me.” “God, I’m sorry.” “What? No! No, you don’t—that was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

A hot wave of embarrassment rolled through your body as you put your underwear back in place, making a face at the wetness there. Ransom was staring at his hand as you put your boobs back in your bra, pulling the shirt tighter around you. 

“Hey.”

You met his eyes and Ransom set a hand on your thigh. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There’s not a lot of girls who can do that and it’s hot as fuck.” “I didn’t even know I could do that.” “I kinda want to make you do it again.”

Your eyes widened and Ransom cocked an eyebrow, hand slithering towards your pussy. You grabbed his wrist and shook your head. 

“I need to … to rest for a minute.”

Ransom chuckled softly, other hand snaking around your head to push you closer to him. His lips met yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss, and you moaned softly when his tongue pressed against yours. 

“Let’s go home.”

You blinked your eyes open as you watched Ransom stretch his long body out again, pulling his pants up and buttoning them. You shook your head, one hand moving to rest against his shoulder. He turned to you, blue eyes locked onto yours, eyebrows raising in question. 

“You … you didn’t …”

Ransom smiled as he leaned closer, kissing you again. 

“Trust me, watching you squirt was worth it. I’ll get mine later.” “Ransom.”

He kissed you again, making you shift on the backseat until you were laying down, knees up around his hips as Ransom’s comforting weight held you down. You had your hands under his sweater, touching warm skin, and he pulled your top down until your boobs were out again. 

“I don’t want to fuck you in the back of my car, but I will.” “Why not?” “More room in a bed.” “Yours or mine?” “Whichever’s closest.”

You giggled as you kissed him again, moaning into his mouth when he dragged his hips between yours, pressing your damp panties against your clit. He lifted his head, staring down at you. 

“Plus, I'm not going to be satisfied until I make you squirt again. Actually, not until you let me record it.” “In your dreams, Drysdale. I told you, no videos.”

Ransom huffed out a breath, and you leaned up to gently bite his earlobe. He groaned and shoved his hips against yours again, shaking his head as he pushed himself up. 

“I’m taking us home.” “But we’re supposed to be looking at Christmas lights.” “Yeah well, that was before you pulled me into the backseat and rocked my fucking world. You stay back here because I don’t trust you not to try to give me road head and that’s something I just can’t say no to.”

You laughed as he hurried to get off of you, adjusting himself as best he could before climbing in the driver’s seat. You rested back against the seat, staring out the window at the starry sky, trying not to let Ransom’s words get to you as they played on a loop in your head. 

Snow fell on Christmas Eve, and you spent the longest time sitting at your breakfast nook, staring out the window as your world was blanketed in white. You made yourself a pot of soup, kept Christmas music playing softly in the background, and settled in for your annual routine of watching Christmas movies and drinking hot chocolate with a candy cane in it. 

Of course, that’s when there was a banging on your door. 

You almost fumbled the hot cocoa, setting it on the coffee table instead and glaring at the door. You pulled your robe tighter around you, stomping to the door, where the banging was still taking place. You yanked the door open to find a furious Ransom on the other side. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He stormed past you and you shook your head. 

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one banging on my door on Christmas Eve. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You slammed the door, turning to Ransom with your arms crossed over your chest. He flung his coat over the back of your chair, hands on his hips as he paced the small room. You watched him, waiting until he finally turned to face you. 

“I was at Harlan’s, suffering through another gathering of them, and all I could fucking think about was how much you’d enjoy it. Not being around them, but the decorations and the food and the music.”

Ransom shook his head, going back to pacing. 

“And I happened to catch the Grinch on cable last night and I fucking cried.” “With Jim Carrey?” “No, the animated one.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling, but that was an epic fail. Ransom turned to look at you and shook his head. 

“Those stupid fucking Whos and the damn dog with the reindeer antler and that annoying as fuck song and—“ “The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season. Now, please don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason.”

Ransom stopped, turning towards you. You smiled softly, walking closer to him. 

“Hit a little close to home, maybe?”

He didn’t answer, closing his eyes when you lifted a hand to brush through the hair falling onto his forehead. You pressed your lips to his cheek in a gentle kiss, nosing his jaw. 

“You sympathized with the Grinch.” “He’s a made up character.” “So? You get where he’s coming from. He hated Christmas. You hated Christmas. He came to a realization that he didn’t actually hate Christmas. You don’t want to steal Christmas from The Whos, you want to celebrate with them.”

Ransom pushed you back a bit, glaring into your eyes. 

“I’m not actually the Grinch. You know that, right?” “Admit it, Ransom. You love Christmas.” “No, I don’t.” “You do. You do, or else an animated cartoon from the ‘60s wouldn’t have made you cry.” “I don’t.”

You shook your head, taking his face in your hands. 

“You’re a stubborn ass, Handsome Ransom, but you know I’m right.”

He knocked your hands away from his face, taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. You whimpered into his mouth as you moved closer, your hands on his hips as he continued assaulting your mouth. You blinked your eyes open in a daze when his lips were suddenly gone, looking down to find him untying your robe and pushing until it fluttered took the floor. 

“Ransom—“ “I want to fuck you under the tree.” “Because you love Christmas?” “No, because I didn’t get you anything and your present can be an orgasm.” “What?!”

Ransom laughed as he finished unbuttoning your pajama top. His hands went to your breasts and you moaned at the warmth of his touch. 

“Actually, I’m gonna give you the best present of all. A belly full of me.” “Oh, dear God. No. You’ve ruined it. Get off me.”

Ransom laughed as he raised his arms, letting you push his cable knit off his torso, dropping it to the floor. You shook your head, watching Ransom go to his knees and grab your robe, spreading it out under the tree. He took hold of your hands and tugged you down, laying you on your robe. You shook your head, lifting your hips to let him remove your pajama bottoms. 

“You have the worst lines. The cheesiest.”

He stilled as he was unbuckling his belt, when you reached up and grabbed his chin. 

“You’d think with a face as good as this one, you wouldn’t need the cheesy lines.” “Most of the time, all they care about is the face.”

His words were jumbled when your hand moved up and squeezed his cheeks together. You smiled, letting your hand fall. 

“Not me. I care about much more.”

You sucked in a breath, eyes widening at the words you hadn’t meant to say. You started to say something else, try to do damage control, but Ransom moved forward, lips finding yours, melting your heart as he murmured against your mouth. 

“I care about you, too.”

You lay back when Ransom prompts, stretching your legs and parting your thighs for Ransom, shivering when his breath hit the dampness between your thighs. You stared up, your vision obscured by branches and artificial pine needles, lights that twinkled in your dim living room. You hummed a breath, smiling until you laughed to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” “Oh, nothing. Just that you and the Grinch, your hearts grew three sizes today.”

Ransom gave a low chuckle and you propped yourself onto your elbows, glaring down at him. 

“Say one thing about your cock and it’s going nowhere near me tonight.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he settled between your legs. You rested back to the floor, staring up through your tree. 

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all—“

You gasped as Ransom’s tongue slid through your folds, as he took your clit between his lips and sucked. 

“A good night.”

[piratesfromspace]

A spirit of his own (Ransom Drysdale/Reader)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out) x Female Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Rated: Mature

CW: mention of a dead relative, spirit possession, kissing & touching, hunter/prey vibes, short non-con at the very end

Note: I wrote this one shot in response of a Halloween challenge organized by a friend. My prompt was: Haunted House / Spirit / Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out) / “The pain only lasts for a while”

MASTERLIST

“Ransom? Is that you?” you wait a second for an answer that doesn’t come. “Ransom??!” you almost yell out, uneasiness now settling in your bones like a cold shower.

You swear you heard the wooden floor creaks in the next room, like someone was stepping on it. But you’re supposed to be the only one in the house with your fiancé - and said fiancé is not answering your scared calls.

This house is definitely too scary for you. You knew the minute you set foot into the old manor, that you would instantly regret your choice to accompany Ransom while he went to his passed grandfather's house to retrieve some papers he needed for whatever administrative tasks his family has asked him to complete.

Well, you can’t stay any longer in this empty hall, and you climb up the third floor until you find Ransom, looking through stacks of papers in what was the office of his grandfather.

“Ransom!” you hug him tight, relieved to be in his presence. “Wow, what happened, love?” “It’s just… Nevermind, you’re gonna say I’m stupid.” “Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time” he smiles at you while you swat his chest and roll your eyes. “Tell me, dear, please.” he adds, taking your hand in his. “I-I heard footsteps coming from the living room, and I was scared, because this freaking house has such a weird vibe… I’m pretty sure it’s haunted or something.” you whisper that last part, a little bit afraid of his reaction.

“I know you can be superstitious, but you’ve nothing to fear.” He brings you closer to him and dives into the crook of your neck. “My own evil aura should chase the ghosts away…” he jokes, mumbling against your skin, before starting to kiss you there. “Ransom! What are you doing??” You try to sound annoyed, but you can’t hide your smile. “I just told you strange stuff is happening here, stop it!”

But he doesn’t stop, kissing and nipping playfully at your neck, his hands slowly slipping under your sweatshirt, holding your waist, keeping you flush to him. You hate how quick your body responds to his ministrations, the sweet warmth of desire spreading through your whole belly, the new feeling mixing with the adrenaline of the earlier scare.

Like they have a mind of their own, your hands instinctively reach out and grab at his head, weaving through the soft blond strands. Ransom’s mouth on your neck, the smell of his familiar Cologne, the cosiness of his worn out white sweater that you can feel against the bare skin exposed by your own scrunched up sweatshirt: this is all making you feel better, and you go pliant under his touch, a content sigh even escaping your lips. He lets go of your waist, to slide a hand lower down your front, snaking into your pants until he settles against your clothed sex, the heat of his palm both comforting and exciting.

That is until the lights in the room suddenly flicker. You tense immediately, a breath hitching in your throat.

“Ransom, did you see that? The lights!”

It does it again, the room briefly filling with dark shadows before the light turns on again. “What the hell! It’s haunted, I told you! I’m done, we’re leaving, now!” You scramble against his chest, trying to unstuck him from you, his apparent calmness only heightening your terror. “How are you so calm? Ransom?” You're panicking but instead of matching your mood, Ransom begins to laugh against your neck before finally giving in and letting you out of his embrace. “Why are you laughing??” you’re confused by his unexplainable reaction, until you can see that one of his hands is reaching behind you, touching the switch on the wall controlling the light.

“Because it’s too easy to scare you!” he exults with a triumphant smile, seemingly happy with himself. “That’s not funny! You’re… you’re…” you point a menacing finger at him, searching for words but finding none, fear impairing your usual quick thinking. “I’m leaving.” you finally let out, before stepping out of the room. “Oh no you’re not.” you can hear him behind you, the serious warning pretty clear behind his playful tone. “I’ve started something I intend on finishing.” he goes on, following you into the long corridor. “Well, if you want to fuck something so much, and since it doesn’t seem to scare you, why don’t you find one of your ghosts and fuck them instead?” you retort, angry but quite satisfied to have found your wit back.

He stops in the hallway for a second, frozen in place, visibly surprised by your mean reply. He's quick to find his composure back though, and as you let out a "fuck", he starts running toward you. It seems you have successfully annoyed him. Yelling at each other is more often than not your kind of foreplay.

"Run princess, run, because when I'll catch you, I'll fuck this insolence out of you." He shouts while you giggle excitedly and run down to the first floor. You take a sharp turn and sprint through the corridor until you find another flight of stairs leading to the main lobby of the manor. There is a split second when you think you’ll fall, the old chandeliers barely lighting up the way, and you have to grip the railing with all your strength to keep up straight. His heavy steps echo against the bare walls of the half empty house, and it’s like the whole building is creaking in protest, while his silhouette is casting weird shadows, the gloomy atmosphere making you feel like you're in one of those horror movies you like to watch.

Drysdale is quick but you're quicker, and you nearly escape him, his fingers crazing the collar of your sweatshirt while you scurry into the kitchen, hoping to find the service door leading outside open. Your victory is short lived though, because you take one wrong step and you bounce hard against the heavy metallic table before strong arms catch you. You're thrown against the nearest wall, your back hitting the wooden panels with enough strength to force the air out of your lungs.

Ransom's body is caging you, cutting short all hopes of escape. He is already burying his head back into the crook of your neck, teeth digging into the delicate skin.

"Ouch! It hurts, stop it!" you plead. Even if it’s all part of his game, it’s starting to really hurt.

You try to pry his head away but he doesn't budge, instead seizing both your wrists and pinning them with ease above your head.

“The pain only lasts for a while” he answers coldly, something a bit off in his voice.

"I'm not in the mood anymore!" You squick, a bit upset.

You squirm in his grasp, and fail miserably at making him let go. Your boyfriend is usually better at getting a hint and knowing when to listen to you.

"It's not funny, Ransom! Stop!"

You begin to fight him for real now, without holding back. It’s useless, you soon found out, as he keeps biting you without saying a word, muscles taunt and feet solidly planted on the ground. Tears of fear and anger are pricking your eyes. All you can feel is the cold coarse wood against your back and the iron grip of Ransom on your wrists, all you can hear the eerie silence of the dimly lit room and your own erratic breathing.

Something is terribly wrong, and you don’t recognize your boyfriend anymore. As a last resort, you try to head butt him, needing to do something - anything - that would wake him up from his weird trance. Finally your desperate attempt seems to coax a reaction out of him. Ransom lets go of your hands and slowly raises his head, facing you. That’s when you realize with horror that his eyes are white, all white, and his empty gaze combined with his toothy grin is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen in your life. His lips start moving in a jerky way and with a guttural voice, he utters a few words, a distorted copy of the ones Ransom said just a few minutes ago:

“Run princess, run.”

[dbnightingale24]

Justified

Ransom Drysdale ~ One Shot

~~

I have no clue why I’m like this. I was in the middle of writing the next chapter for my Andy Barber story, when I came up with this idea and had to drop everything to write it. Of course, I have a million other things that I need to update and post, but let me just go ahead and write about Ransom...again. Anyway, I have Covid (boooooo), so I now have a ton of free time to write and annoy you all (yaaaaaaay!!!). So, here's another angsty one shot (because I’m an asshole) and I hope you all enjoy!

P.S. @itsbrittany425, I’m really sorry, but in my defense, I did warn you that you’d hate me for this.

Word Count: 16,068 (I’m so sorry I’m like this y’all)

Warnings: Smut (this shit is 18+ so minors need to scamper off), loss of virginity, cheating (Cause Ransom), Swearing, Drinking (it is me here), mentions of loss, car accident, smoking, mentions of drug use, arguing (so much arguing), indecisiveness, name calling, and I’m sure I forgot something but that’s overall it.

Song(s) That Inspired This:

Justified - Kacey Musgraves

Good Wife - Kacey Musgraves

Summary: Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so.

~~

You hadn’t realized how much you miss your ex-grandfather-in-law until his warm smile greets you, followed by his arms enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he beams at you once you two finally breakaway. “Tonight’s a big deal and I want all of my family here.”

“I’m no longer-”

“None of that,” he quickly snaps. “What that boy was thinking, I’m still not sure, but you’re always going to be a part of this family. You’ve always been too good for him anyway.”

“I may need you to remind me of that as the night goes on,” you laugh softly as you nervously twiddle your fingers. “Is he here yet?”

“No, you know Ransom. Can’t ever be on time for a damn thing and makes a scene when he finally arrives.”

“Wasn’t always like that,” you sigh, remembering.

“It’s going to be okay,” Harlan smiles reassuringly before taking your hand. “You don’t even have to speak to him, no one is expecting you to and it’s more than he deserves. Tonight isn’t about him.”

“He’ll find a way to make it about him,” you laugh humorlessly.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he sighs as he leads you into the living room area where the release party for his newest book was in full swing. You make your way around the room, getting hugs and ‘its great to see yous’ from people you hadn’t seen since the divorce, including Linda. It doesn’t do much to ease your anxiety. The more you look around the room, the more memories come flooding back.

Good and bad.

Memories of the many nights of the two of you staying up to get Ransom caught up on his college work because you wouldn’t let him fail out. The arguments of why you wouldn’t go out with him, you consoling him after his latest blow up with Walt or Linda, him consoling you after the loss of your father, and so many other things. You two built up an entire life together.

Then he just let it all crash and burn.

In hindsight, there were a million red flags that made themselves apparent before you finally agreed to go out with him; a million times that you should have walked away, but chose not to because you loved him and would always make an excuse for his awful behavior.

The most obvious one? His anger.

His anger was terrible since he was a child. It often led to him getting into fights on the playground with the other kids that made fun of him. His anger became more lecherous as he got older, and he would sleep with girls to get revenge against their boyfriends. Sometimes he would cheat on his girlfriends with other girls who were more obsessed with him. He’s always had the need to feel wanted.

When it came to you, he chose to hurt you emotionally.

It was never lost on him that you liked him but didn’t act on it, not at first.That hurt him more than he’ll ever admit. However, Ransom knowing you cared for him while watching you go on dates with other guys made his blood boil the most.

One night, he called you to pick him up cause he’d had too much to drink. He didn’t want to disappoint you by drunk driving again.

That should’ve tipped you off right there.

When you got to the bar, you weren’t surprised to see some equally as drunk woman hanging on him, but you were surprised to see whom it was.

Stephanie Willis.

She’d made you her enemy since grade school, and Ransom knew it. He’d even bullied her on your behalf (you of course never asked), and he knew more than anyone else how much of a living hell she had made your life.

He knew it would hurt you to your core and that’s why he did it.

The entire drive back to his parents’ house was filled with lewd and obnoxious sounds. You heard the slurps as they made out in your backseat,with Ransom bringing her off with his fingers as many times he pleased. After each low moan of hers you felt his eyes on you, gloating; you knew he had that stupid shit eating grin on his face.

You barely waited for him to slam your car door shut before you sped off.

You spent the rest of that night crying and scrubbing your car clean. Ransom let you ignore him for 3 days, before finally confronting you in middle of the college campus.

“You haven’t returned any of my calls. Something you angry with me about?” he asked, smug grin on his face.

In response, you threw your plate of food (a sloppy Joe) at him before following up by dumping your strawberry shake on him.

“WHAT THE SHIT?!”

“Fuck you, Drysdale!” you yelled, closing and grabbing your books, before starting to stalk off.

“Oh no you don’t,” he warned, grabbing a tight hold of your wrist.

“Let go of me!”

“What the hell is your problem?!”

“Are you fucking stupid?!” you screamed. Everyone’s eyes were on you two now.

“Are you seriously this upset over-”

“Over you making a porno in the backseat of my car with the one person I despise?! Yes Ransom, I am seriously this upset!”

“Give me a fucking break! You go on dates with guys all the time-”

“Are you seriously trying to compare the two?!” you roared at him, stomping in his direction in a way that had him scared and backing up a bit. “I go on dates, Ransom! I don’t fuck them! I don’t fuck anyone! Whereas you fuck anything with a pulse! For fucks sake Ransom, I went to this fucking school for you! Because of you! How fucking stupid does that make me?!”

“Y/N-”

“Jesus, this is why this,” you sobbed, motioning between the two of you, “never happens. Because you’re a fucking child. You say I mean more to you than anyone else, then you treat me the same as everyone else. I am so sick of this! Aren’t you? Aren’t you tired of disappointing everyone who could even care the slightest bit of a damn about you? Aren’t you tired of hating yourself this much?”

Ransom just stood there, shame and regret plastered over his face.

“As usual, nothing to say when it’s time for you to hold yourself accountable. I’ll see you around,” you scoffed before turning and making your way to your next class.

You spent the next month ignoring Ransom and all of his expensive gifts,which were his way of apologizing. He finally got your attention when he showed up at your mother’s house in the pouring rain one Fall evening.

“Ransom?! what are you doing here?! It’s pouring and you’re soaking-”

“Just let me get this out, please,” he sighed. “I know...I know I suck, okay? I know that I don’t make it easy to be my friend, let alone love me, but you truly are the most important person in my life. Seeing you go on dates with those other guys only drives me insane because I desperately want to be those other guys. I know I don’t deserve you, trust me I know, but that doesn’t stop the fact that you are the only person I’ve ever truly loved. The only person I’ll ever truly love. I’m not your responsibility and I’m sorry that...I’m sorry that I don’t do better for you,” he said sincerely, eyes full of sincerity and guilt.

How the hell were you supposed to stay mad at him after that?

In the weeks that followed, there was a change in Ransom that caused you to fall for him all over again; even harder this time. He was respectful of your boundaries, he stopped dropping a million sexual innuendos a day your way, he kept his backhanded comments about your dates to himself, and he stopped going out of his way to hurt you.

By the time your senior year approached, you two were practically inseparable. In fact, if it weren’t for Ransom’s sexual excursions, people would’ve believed that you two were together.

Then graduation night came and changed everything.

“How are you not hot?” you laughed to one of your friends, Sasha, as you both continued to dance in the middle of the giant living room.

Harlan had let Ransom use the family getaway house to throw a party (only because you would be in attendance), and you were pretty sure you’d never been to a party of this scale. The place was packed with people you did and didn’t know, there was more alcohol than you’d ever seen in your life, drugs were being passed around like candy, rooms and bathrooms were occupied with people doing God knows what, fights were going on, strip poker was happening in more than one part of the house, and Ransom had gone off with multiple girls over an hour ago. As much as that last fact had hurt you, you were determined to have fun. You had worked your ass off and graduated the top of your class. All of the stressing, sleepless nights, and cramped hands had been worth it. Besides, Ransom wasn’t yours and was free to do whatever and whoever he wanted.

You had been able to talk the few friends you had, outside of Ransom ,into coming, and even though none of them were too keen on coming (they all hated him), they wanted to bask in your success and that meant doing whatever you wanted.

“With all the airway coming through this damn place, how are you hot?!” she responded only causing you to laugh.

“I’m getting another drink, does anyone want anything?” you asked before finishing the rest of your tequila sunrise.

“A Jack and Coke, please” Samantha smiled at you.

“Will do!” you responded before dancing your way into the kitchen.

You didn’t even notice him watching you. Freshly fucked, shirtless, and with a drink in his hand.

You snuck past all the drunken hookups and games being played, finally reaching the counter and grabbing two fresh cups and getting to work on the drinks.

“Why haven’t you danced with me all night?” an all too familiar voice asked lowly, snaking his arm around your waist.

“Because you’ve been fucking all night,” you laughed, smelling the scent of the other women on him.

“Not who I want though.”

“Don’t start,” you quipped, rolling your eyes. “You proud of your party? I’m sure this will go down in the books as the best ‘bon voyage’ ever,” you questioned as you tried to finish up the drinks.

“It would’ve been better if it were just us,” he whispered into your ear before kissing it.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” you questioned, finally turning to meet his gaze.

His lips were on yours almost instantly and the feeling that washed over you was mind numbing.

‘This is what I’ve been denying myself? What the fuck is wrong with me?!’ you thought to yourself for just a moment, before you thought better of it.

“Ransom...stop,” you said softly, breaking away and pushing him back a little.

“You’re gonna finish off your college career as a virgin?” he smirked.

“Fuck you,” you huffed, grabbing the drinks you made going to leave.

“Don’t. You know I don’t mean to be an asshole.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Classes are over, Y/N. We graduated, there’s nothing left to study for, no job to go to in the morning, no immediate responsibilities waiting for you in the morning, so what’s stopping you?”

“Because I don’t want my first time to be some drunken hookup at a college party. I want it to be with someone I love.”

“You love me,” Ransom said in a barely audible pathetic voice.

You looked up to see him looking down at you with the most desperate and pleading eyes. In his own way, he was begging for you to choose him.

“Ransom, I-”

“There you are!” Samantha beamed at you with Sasha and Vivian at her heels. You didn’t miss the glares they all shot Ransom’s way. “I was wondering where you went off to with my drink!”

“Sorry, I got caught up in conversation with Ransom,” you smiled meagerly at them, already knowing they could see right through it.

“Fun party, Drysdale. Your parents must be proud,” Vivian sneered.

“Claws away,” you snapped softly. The last thing you needed was for an argument to start.

“Enjoy your night,” he mumbled before sulking off into a corner with his so-called friends.

“Y/N, seriously?!” Sasha snapped.

“Nothing happened. At least nothing for anyone to worry about,” you sighed taking in all of their looks that were a mix of worry and irritation. It made you feel small and you hated yourself for it. “Can we please just go back to dancing? I really just want to have fun tonight.”

“We could have gone to a club, ya know.”

“Heaven forbid Ransom OD’s, I trust none of these people to actually take care of him. We’ve been having fun and I’ve seen you all making eyes at a few handsome grad boys,” you smirked as the rest of them giggled. “Just relax okay?”

“You promise we have nothing to worry about?” Samantha questioned, with worry still making a small appearance her eyes.

“I promise.”

“Then lets get back to where we were cause I’m 99% sure that cute guy by the front door was about to come over to me,” Sasha whined and you all laughed.

As they led you back to the dance floor, you turned back to see Ransom’s eyes still on you. The dark desperation, lust, and hunger in his eyes should’ve been more than enough to get you to leave, but you were naive.

You were always so naive when it came to him.

As the night went on and your friends went off to different rooms with the guys they had been ogling all night, with your insistence, you continued to drink and dance on your own. You would’ve felt bad just leaving them, worried that something could happen at any point, and Ransom had hit his brooding point of the night which always caused you to worry. Multiple guys had tried hitting on you and/or dancing with you, but you turned them all down in the nicest way possible. There was only one person you wanted and he was the one you needed to stay the farthest away from. However, when you felt his arm snake around waist again and his chest press against your back, you wrapped your arm around his neck and he rested his head in the crook of yours.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you giggled with a slight hiccup, continuing to sway your hips to the music.

“Where’d your friends run off to?” he questioned as his hand slowly started to snake up the top of your dress.

You knew you should’ve told him to stop, but you wanted it. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad it almost hurt, and while you knew you could blame it on all of the alcohol coursing through your system, you knew this was bound to happen. Sober or not. “They’re off having fun.”

“Leaving you all alone with the big bad wolf,” he smirked before biting the shell of your ear softly. “Come upstairs with me.”

“Ransom...if we do this...we can’t take it back in the morning,” you sighed as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I won’t want to, will you?”

You had to think about it because there were a million pros and cons, and if you were being honest, there were more cons than pros.

But Ransom was right. You did love him. You always had and you always would. No matter what happened after that night, you’d still love him and you’d never regret giving all of yourself to him.

You turned around in his arms and looked up at him through thick lashes. “No.”

Ransom dipped down and claimed your lips with his own before pulling you impossibly closer. “Lets go.”

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy as he led the way up the steps to his room. You felt eyes on the both of you and heard the whispers but you didn’t care. None of it mattered because, for whatever reason, you trusted Ransom with everything.

You took a deep breath as he unlocked the door and you made your way inside. It was strange how different everything felt. You had been in that room so many times before. Slept on that bed, cried on it, laughed on it, cuddled on it, and opened up to each other on it so many times over the years, but this was different. This was so much more.

It was everything.

The closing of the door made you jump a little bit and you almost spilled what was left of drink. “Just take a deep breath,” Ransom cooed as he locked the door. “I’ll take care of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when he lit the few candles he had set up in the room.

“The best I can do on such short notice,” he smirked before making his way over to you. “If it’s too much, tell me to stop,” he gently whispered as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I will,” you responded shyly, looking away.

“Hey, be here with me.”

“I just...you know what you’re doing and I...”

“You’re perfect.”

“Ransom...why me? Why do you want me so bad?”

“I told you that night: you’re the only person I’ve ever truly loved. You’ll always be the only person I’ll ever truly love,” he responded sincerely.

You pulled him closer to you and crashed your lips into his. It was all you had been thinking about since the first time he kissed you. He wrapped his arms around you tight as you started running your fingers through his hair. When you felt his tongue slide across your bottom lip, begging for entry, you were all too happy to grant him permission. You both started making your way backwards towards his bed, only stopping when you felt the foot of the mattress against the back of your legs.

When you broke apart, you were both breathless and craving more of each other in the most pathetic way. You felt him pull at the strings on the back of your dress and you forced yourself to ignore the voices that were telling you to run away as fast as you could.

He sensed your hesitation and stopped almost instantly. “Hey Y/N, if you’re not ready-”

“I...I am,” you interrupted softly “just take it slow.”

“You sure?”

“I promise,” you smiled at him.

Ransom’s breath hitched in his throat when your dress fell away to reveal the black lacy underwear you wore underneath.

“Always so fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, before his lips were on yours again. The urgency in his kiss was very obvious but he did his best to keep everything at a steady pace.

You had your hands on the front of his shorts, doing your best to get rid of the stupid belt he had on and get the button on his shorts undone. Once you had the zipper pulled down, you slid your hand inside his shorts and you both gasped. You had an idea of his size, because girls do talk, but you thought they had been exaggerating.

They were not.

A chill of nervousness and anticipation went running down your spine, but you didn’t stop stroking him. You were so desperate for him that you couldn’t. It was like Ransom could read like your mind.

“I’ll get you ready for me, Sweetheart. I promise,” he moaned as he continued to decorate your neck with kisses. He removed your hand from his shorts and couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at your little whine in protest. “Another time, I promise. I’ve thought about that precious little mouth around my cock way too many times for me to never experience it.”

That dirty little confession had you ready to come undone for him on the spot.

“Just wanna take care of you tonight, Sweetheart.”

In one swift move, you were on your back and Ransom was kissing his way down your body at a painfully slow pace. Pushing through all of the euphoria clouding your mind you quickly realized what he was on his way to do.

“Ransom, I didn’t think this would...I didn’t shave,” you moaned as you propped yourself up on your elbows, biting on your bottom lip as you watched him bite and suck on the inside of your inner thigh.

“I don’t care,” he simply growled before ripping away the flimsy soaked material that was covering your most sensitive nerve.

Ransom started an assault on your clit with his tongue before you could protest. The protests that were trying to leave your mouth were cut off by silent cries and pornographic moans. His tongue was soon replaced by his thumb, so he could instead use his tongue to fuck you relentlessly. He was a wicked tempest between your legs and you didn’t want the clouds to clear up any time soon. Gripping a fist full of his hair, you pulled him impossibly closer to your soaked cunt, only gaining a grunt of approval from him.

The silent cries and pleas leaving your mouth were music to his ears and he was letting you know by keeping up his assault between your legs, even after he brought you off twice with his tongue. When he brought you off for a third time, you tried to push him away, but he wasn’t having it. He laid one large arm across your stomach before using his tongue to assault your clit again with teasing little kitten licks.

“Ransom please!” you mewled, your body squirming beneath to be free from his hold. You felt him smirk between your legs and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

Cocky little prick.

He started sucking and licking on your clit with determination that hadn’t been there before. If he was taking it easy on you before and you were already a puddle, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to last for the night. When he brought you off for the fourth and final time with his tongue, the room was filled with cries of pleasure and silent, tear-less sobs.

Ransom wasted no time trailing hungry kisses up your body, the taste of you ever present when his lips finally met yours. In one swift move, he unclasped the front of your bra, fully exposing you to him. You had never been completely naked in front him and it in that moment that the reality of what came next was smacking you in the face.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, propping himself up and looking over you. “So beautiful and all mine.” You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and you let out a deep breath. “Just be here with me,” he cooed before slowly pushing one finger inside of you.

You moaned at the feel of him, allowing yourself to get used to the new sensation. After a moment or two, he added another finger and you winced slightly at the small sting of him stretching you a little.

“It’s fine, baby. Tell me if you need me to stop,” he coaxed, keeping his movements slow and careful.

“I’m okay,” you breathed out, wrapping one of your arms around him.

When he added the third finger, you hissed in pain. You knew he was doing you a kindness, but at that point you just wanted to him get it over with.

“Please just...please,” you begged, digging your nails into his shoulder slightly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I just want it to happen,” you mumbled.

Ransom looked down and saw all of the anxiety and stress that had built up and he kissed you deeply. He kissed you until you relaxed a little and your mind wasn’t focusing on him pulling you apart in a brand new way. When you started to cry out at the feel of the head pushing his way in, he swallowed them down, while trying to contain his own noises. He only broke away when he finally bottomed out.

“Jesus Christ! You’re so fucking tight!” he breathed out after a moment.

“I wasn’t lying,” you joked the best you could, trying to blink away tears.

“I remember Zach storming out of your dorm with a full on boner and a red hand print across his face,” Ransom snickered. “I know you’re not lying,” he smiled down at you, as you let out a soft laugh. He kissed away what was left of your tears before kissing your cheek. “You okay, Sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me if...,” was all he got out as he started to slowly move within you.

You looked up and could tell by the contorted expression on his face that he was doing his best to control his movements. In that moment, you were truly grateful that you had trusted him with your virginity. You weren’t sure there were many men that would’ve put your needs before their own, first time or not.

At first, it hurt like a mother fucker and you were close to throwing in the towel, but then you felt something inside you pop like a balloon and the pleasure slowly started to outweigh the pain.

“Fuck baby, just like that,” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him and running your hands through his hair.

“There we go, Sweetheart,” he groaned, gradually picking up the pace and peppering kisses up and down your neck. “I love you so much,” he breathed into the hollow of your neck.

“I...I love you. I always have and I always will,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure started to reach the tips of your fingers.

Ransom’s hands slowly made their way up your arms until he was able to collar both your wrists above your head. The sounds coming from your mouth were like a song made exclusively for him and him alone. He propped himself up, relentlessly pumping into you with his hips as you moaned and begged beneath him.

“I don’t deserve you, but I can’t...I can’t quit you,” he moaned, his excitement starting to build up. “So fucking happy you chose me.”

“Ransom, I’m so close!” you whined, not wanting it to end so soon.

“It’s okay, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum,” he cooed, finally daring to look at you, a tangled mess beneath him. “Fuck!”

You came hard, his name leaving your lips like a silent prayer as Ransom kept a steady pace above you. It wasn’t long before you started to feel that knot starting to tighten in your core again. You started to grind your hips against Ransom’s and when you felt his grip tighten on your writs, you knew he was close. He dipped down and started to bite and suck on the part of your neck that was the most responsive to him.

“Holy fuck! Ransom!”

“That’s it, Sweetheart!” he groaned as he pushed himself up again “give in to me!”

“Oh my God!” you cried out, eyes clenched shut.

“Eyes on me,” Ransom softly begged, “need to see you...”

“Oh fuck!” you cried as your body went taunt and your gaze locked on his.

The orgasm that washed over you was the most powerful thing you had ever felt. The world and Ransom himself seemed to fade around you. No, it was just pleasure you found yourself floating in, until Ransom’s own erratic movements brought you back and he was shouting your name. Moments later, you felt his hot seed spill into and fill you up, both of you just trying to come back down to reality.

You both laid there, regulating your breaths, before Ransom kissed all over your forehead as he slowly pulled out. When he was completely out, you groaned at the emptiness that took the place of him completing you. He kissed your forehead again before getting up and making his way to the bathroom connected to his room. You slowly realized that the candles were still lit and you were going to take it upon yourself to put them out. When you went to move, you whimpered at the soreness felt all over.

“No no, you need to lay down,” Ransom hushed as he made his way back to you with a damp cloth.

You watched him as he cleaned up the blood and release between your legs. You were positive that he had never cared for any other woman he had been with in this way; it made your heart swell.

He truly did love you.

As he finished up cleaning, you took his face in your hands and stroked his cheek softly when he turned his attention to you. “I love you...thank you,” you smiled at him.

He dipped down and kissed you deeply, cupping your face softy before breaking away and smiling at you. “I love you.”

After he finished up, he put out the candles before he got in bed and pulled you close to him, as if he were afraid you’d leave him. Both of you fell asleep in almost no time at all and you had never felt so full and loved in your life.

When the next day came, the sun met your eyes before consciousness did. You groaned and rolled over into a warm body next to you.

“Knew there was a reason you always hated this room,” Ransom groaned, rolling over and wrapping an arm around you. “Sorry babe.”

Your eyes shot open as you realized what happened only hours ago was reality. You had, in fact, slept with Ransom. You rolled over to check your phone and saw you had a bunch of text messages from your friends.

The last one was from Sasha and it read: ‘You better be fucking kidding me right now!’.

“Shit!” you breathed shooting up only to be met by pain.

“What? What’s wrong?” Ransom asked, alarm in his own tone as he shot up to see you scrambling around (to the best of your ability) to get your clothes back on.

“I uhh...I have to go,” you said quickly, searching for your bra. “The girls are...uh...the girls are waiting for me and we need to get going.”

“Y/N-”

“I have to deal with this, Ransom. Fuck! Where are my panties?!” you asked to yourself more than him. When you saw the smirk that came to Ransom’s face, you remembered that they’d be of no use to you in the state that they were currently in. “I have to go,” you said flatly, as you pulled your shoes on.

“We’re not gonna talk about this?”

“You have my phone number and you know where I live. If you really want to talk to me about this, you know where and how to reach me,” you said quickly. The flash of pain in Ransom’s eyes made you quickly want to fix that statement as you pulled your dress over your head. “I meant what I said last night. I do love you and I wouldn’t have wanted to have that experience with anyone else but you,” you smiled softly at him.

“But?”

“Ransom, this isn’t a conversation we can have in the span of 5 minutes,” you huffed as your phone started going off.

“Then don’t go,” he said as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

“Ransom-”

“I’ll kick everyone the fuck out right now if you just stay here and talk this out with me.”

He was looking at you with those eyes again and you felt yourself coming apart. The honk coming from what you assumed to be your own car slapped you back to reality. “I will call you later, I promise,” you assured him leaning across the bed to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

The man really knew how to put up an unfair fight.

Another honk had you reluctantly pulling away. “I promise I’ll call you later. We can go to dinner or something, okay? Just please...let me do this. Don’t change your mind,” you begged before running out of the room.

You spent all of that morning and afternoon arguing with your friends. At the end of it, there was no mutual understanding but they knew there was no changing your mind. You both had proclaimed your love to one another and that was enough for you.

You hoped it would be enough for him.

You called him two times that night and it went to voicemail after 3 rings. You sent him a few texts begging him to respond, but were met with more radio silence.

If you hadn’t been so heartbroken by the events that were unfolding in front of you, you would’ve found it a little funny that you, a 23 year old, were crying over the same things a 16 or 15 year old.

Ransom ignored you for a week but came back into play the day before an extremely important job interview.

“Go away,” you muttered, arms crossed across your chest “I have nothing to say to you.”

“You chose them over me and-”

“There’s literally nothing you can say that won’t make you look like an ass right now. Just go away.”

“I brought you breakfast,” he stated in the most simple yet apologetic way.

Looking back on it, you hate that. How that’s all it took for him to get a minute of your time.

He was completely upfront with you the entire time you two spoke, and maybe that’s what caught you so off guard. He was upfront about drowning his sorrows in other women as well as drinking and drugs. He admitted that he was angry with you for not choosing him right away and telling him that he needed to grow up.

That summer, you both devoted more time to each other than you ever had before, and while it wasn’t without its bumps, it was still the best summer you’d ever had.

August of that year, Ransom asked to be his (and only his) in the same study you currently found yourself pacing in.

“You know I wouldn’t miss one of your famous release parties for anything,” an all too familiar voice rang out, rattling you out of your memories.

You look to the doorway and see him standing there with her wrapped around him.

‘Of course,’ you think to yourself.

His gaze lands on you right as you’re about to turn away. You hate yourself for agreeing to show up. You should’ve stuck to your guns and just stayed home. You quickly make your way out of the study and out onto the back deck.

‘Tonight isn’t about him. It isn’t about either of them. You can do this,’ you tell yourself mentally.

It’s not even like you have to stay for the whole thing, just long enough for Harlan to say his ‘thank you’s’ and for him to make his rounds.

However, the longer you stay out on the back deck, the more memories come flooding your way.

“You gonna stay out here the whole night? You’re gonna freeze your ass off.” Ransom questioned, leaning against the doorway as he lit a cigarette.

“Fuck off,” you shot back, not even bothering to face him.

“You know you’re the only one I love.”

“Then why do you keep fucking everyone else?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, finally being honest with you. “I just...they mean nothing to me. I can’t even get off if I’m not picturing you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you scoffed, taking a sip of your more than half full glass of whiskey. “You cheat on me but can only get off when you think of me? Gee, that’s real romantic Ransom. Thanks.”

“You have to admit that you’re responsible for some of this too!” he snapped back.

“Oh? This should be good, I wanna hear this,” you laugh humorlessly, finally turning to face him.

“You’re always pushing me! It’s never enough for me to reach my personal goals in my own time, you just have to push and push!”

“If I don’t push you, you’ll never get there!”

“That’s not for you to determine, Y/N!”

You knew he was making a fair point and that you did need to ease up, but that was no excuse for him to cheat on you at least once a week. “We tried Ransom. We really did.”

“No, you don’t get to quit on me that easily,” he said lowly, putting his cigarette out before he made his way over to you. “I love you.”

“Love is clearly not enough,” you sobbed, quickly wiping away the tears that had dared to leave your eyes.

“Y/N-”

“No. Just...no. We can just walk away now and-”

“Marry me,” he practically begged, getting down on one knee.

“Ransom...what the fuck?”

“I know, okay? I know I haven’t been the best or done the best, but things will be better. I’ll be better.”

“You can’t be...no!”

“What do you mean no?!”

“Did I fucking stutter?! No, I’m not marrying you! That won’t fix this! Fix us!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Ransom, you know good and damn well why not, or do you wanna end up like your parents?”

“That’s different! We’re in love!”

“Ransom, that’s not enough-”

“Just trust me, okay? I will give you all you’ve already ask for and more. I just need to know you’re in this for the long haul.”

“We’ve been at this for 5 years! What else do you need from me?!”

“You to say yes,” he begged, taking the ring from his pocket and finally showing it to you, in all its shiny glory.

The ring wasn’t what got you to say yes, it was the look on his face that did. All the promises of a better tomorrow. Even with your mother and friends begging you to call it off, with his friends and family telling you that you deserve and can do better, and even with him cheating on you the day before the wedding…you still took his last name.

Those promises only came through for the first 3 three years of your marriage.

‘God, but what a wonderful first 3 years they were,’ you think to yourself.

For as much as you currently hate him, you know that he really did put his best foot forward. He had become a successful author in his own right, always hating the comparisons between him and Harlan, and you’d become a successful interior designer.

Ransom seemed to change overnight. Yeah, he was still a dick to most, but he treated you as if you were the center of his universe. He made it a point to make time for you, or come and see you when you had to go into the office. He started and ended each day with his head between your legs, helping you both unwind from stressful days.

You did your best to pull back on being so controlling and a perfectionist. Letting Ransom figure out on his own time where he wanted things to go, how he wanted them to go, and dealing with his own family on his terms.

For the most part, you and Ransom were happy and deeply in love. There wasn’t a day that went by where he wasn’t telling you how much he loved you and how happy you made him. He brought you flowers every day and even surprised you with a vow renewal on your three year anniversary.

However, Ransom was Ransom and nothing was bound to stay golden.

The first time he cheated was two weeks after your four year anniversary. You stayed up all night, waiting for him. When he finally came home, looking just as guilty as he was, you burst into tears. He immediately came over to you, apologizing, holding you close even though you fought hard against him. He swore he’d never do it again.

4 weeks later, he did it again.

It got to the point that you didn’t even acknowledge him and wouldn’t let him touch you. Every time you turned away from him or denied him, you saw the hurt in his eyes and you hoped he saw the disgust in yours.

But you couldn’t leave him. As hurt and angry as you were, you still loved him more than anything else in the world.

The final straw came when you came home after an extremely long day at work and just wanted to crawl into bed. The minute you opened the door, you knew something was off.

The closer you got to the bedroom the louder the moaning and groaning got. You forced yourself to the doorway because that would be the only way you’d ever allow yourself to believe it.

He was pounding into Stephanie Willis with all he had in him, eyes clenched shut and she moaned obnoxiously into the bed you two shared.

“Fuck Ransom! Just like-”

“I told you not to call me that!” he interrupted harshly “you’re not anyone special, call me Hugh or shut the fuck up!”

You didn’t need to see or hear either of them finish. You ran down the stairs and raced to your car, speeding off as soon as your car started. You spent that night crying at Vivian’s house and drowning your sorrows in the bottles of wine Sasha brought over. Samantha was on her way to go slash his tires until you begged her not to.

You didn’t even remember falling asleep, but your phone buzzing softly woke you up. It was a text from Ransom.

Sweetheart: You didn’t come home last night.

Y/N: I did but you were busy with Stephanie.

Sweetheart: Oh, you saw that?

His response just made you fall apart all over again. After an hour or so, you forced yourself to get it together and told your friends you were going to go and pick up things, and they all insisted on going with you. You let them drive because you had no energy or will to fight anything anymore.

When you got there, Ransom was sitting at the dining room table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Neither of you said a word to each other. After your fourth trip down the steps, he finally got up.

“I can help ya know?”

“You’ve done more than enough.”

“Y/N-”

“There’s nothing you have to say that I want to hear so just shut up and stay the fuck out of my way,” you spat at him, angry tears spilling from your eyes. You could see all the pain and hurt he was trying to mask but you didn’t care. He made the choice, not you. You shoved past him and took more bags outside.

After you packed your last bag, you started on your way out but stopped at the doorway. “I just want to know why. After all we’ve been through and all we’ve meant to each other, why?”

“I knew you’d wanna try and make it work and I don’t have time for that. Simple fact is, I don’t want you anymore, babe,” he sighed, refusing to meet your gaze.

The fact that he wouldn’t look you in the eyes let you know that he was lying, but that didn’t stop the words from stinging any less. “Send the paper’s to Vivian’s house. Take whatever you want, I don’t care. I just want to be rid of you.”

“What about the furniture?”

“Give it to Stephanie, I’m sure she could use the cushion to help ease that bruised ego of hers,” you called from over your shoulder.

After helping you pack away the last of your bags, Samantha took out her house key and ran it across Ransom’s Beamer doors. “Are you fucking nuts?!” he yelled, running down the steps.

“Fuck you, Drysdale!” she snapped, before spitting on his car and getting into Vivan’s truck.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to scold any of them, because in all honesty, you wanted to stab him. As far as you were concerned, he got off easy. You looked out the window and saw him hunched over his car, one hand covering his face. You knew he was crying and it broke your heart, but you couldn’t be there for him anymore.

In the months that followed, you found a house on the quieter side of Boston. It was spacious enough to decorate but small enough to be cozy. You were in the middle of the woods, but not too far from society. It was almost perfect.

The minute the divorce paper’s arrived at Vivian’s house, you signed them almost instantly and sent them back.

However, with Ransom, nothing was ever easy.

The Worst Drysdale: I’m having new papers sent.

Y/N: Why?

The Worst Drysdale: I’m not happy with the first draft.

Y/N: You’re the one who had them drawn up, Hugh.

The Worst Drysdale: Don’t call me that and I’m aware that I’m the one who had them drawn up, but giving you nothing doesn’t feel right.

Y/N: The only thing I want is to be free of you.

The Worst Drysdale: I’ll have the new paper’s sent over in the morning.

From that day on, for the next 6 months, he found a flaw in every draft he had sent to you, dragging out the process for as long as possible.

The Worst Drysdale: Where am I sending these to? I know you aren’t staying with Vivian anymore.

Y/N: You can still send them there and I’ll just pick them up later.

The Worst Drysdale: Or you can just tell me where you live and I’ll send them there.

Y/N: I think the fuck not.

The Worst Drysdale: I guess we’re staying married then.

Y/N: Why do you have to be an asshole about everything? I’ll be at your house in 30 minutes, have the papers ready.

You threw on an old pair of jeans and grabbed a random college sweatshirt before making your way down the stairs to the outside and into your car. When you finally reached his house, he was standing at the top of the steps, with a lit cigarette between his lips. You hadn’t seen him since the day you packed your things. He had on a pair of gray sweatpants and one of his tight fitting black Henley sweaters. He’d also grown out a beard and you were by no means hating it.

There was no reason for you to admit to yourself how much you wanted him, your pussy was already doing that for you already.

You took a deep breath as you shut off your car and made eye-contact with him.

‘Don’t fall for any of his mind games. Just sign the papers and be done with it. Be free of him.’

You got out of your car and slammed the door shut, walking right past him and marching into the house.

“Where are the papers?” you asked, standing in the walkway, arms folded across your chest.

“Not even a hello?” he responded, still smoking his cigarette, not even bothering to look at you.

“I’m in no mood for games, Hugh. Just give me the damn papers so I can sign them and go home.”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snapped before putting his cigarette out.

“That is your name, is it not?”

“For people that don’t mean anything to me.”

“Oof, does Stephanie know that? Heard you berating her for that when I saw you two,” you smirked. “Besides, I clearly don’t mean anything to you. Not sure if I ever did.”

“Y/N-”

“Hugh, the papers. Where are they so I can sign them get out of here.”

“You really don’t want me to see where you live, huh? That ashamed of it?” he asked, brushing past you and completely ignoring your question.

“I’m not ashamed of anything. I just don’t want you showing up outside of my house and harassing me. High School is still pretty vivid for me.”

“You loved it.”

“No I didn’t and neither did my mother. Now, the papers.”

“You won’t even stay for a drink?”

“What the fuck is this?” you finally snapped. “You wanted this. You told me you didn’t want me and you that was that. You fucked her in our bed and made sure I would catch you two. So what the fuck do you want? As per usual, you’re getting everything you want!” you exclaimed.

“I thought I was strong enough to let you go and be with someone actually worthy of you,” he responded so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I miss you, Y/N.”

“Well, you had 4 years to try and work this shit out and you chose not to, so that’s on you. Papers.”

“Can you stop for just a minute?!” he sighed. “Just fucking talk to me!”

“About what?! There’s nothing left to discuss!”

“We can fix this!”

“Hugh, I have spent too much of my life trying to fix and help you. We are both too old for this shit-”

“I’m not strong enough to let you go, okay? Without you, there’s honestly no point. I don’t know what to do. You are the only thing good in my life and I know I fucked this up, okay? I know and I’m so sorry but please just-”

“I’m not doing this with you. Not today and not again,” you huffed, wiping away tears. “Just let me sign the papers and let me go.”

“You don’t miss me at all?” he asked, slowly making his way towards you. “You’re here in my sweatshirt and I can’t imagine that’s the only thing of mine that you have.”

“Don’t,” you warned, backing up until you found yourself against a wall. “Let me go.”

“I tried,” he responded softly, caging you in between his arms “and I can’t. Take a look, Sweetheart. Our photos are still hanging up, the furniture is the same as you left it, and the locks are the same. This isn’t a home without you,” he continued as his own tears started to fall. “Come back and I swear I’ll do better,” he pleaded before starting kiss along the column of your neck.

“Hugh don’t-”

“I am begging you not call me that. Don’t act like you aren’t everything to me.”

“You did this. You made this choice and you made sure to hurt me in the process,” you responded weakly, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss down your body.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but please,”he begged, fumbling with buttons on your jeans.

You knew right then and there that if you didn’t stop him, you’d be sucked right back into his bullshit. “Hugh no,” you said firmly, pushing him away. “We’re not doing this. I’m not going down this road with you.”

“Y/N please-”

“Just let me sign the papers, please. Just let me go,” you sobbed.

The pain written on his face matched the pain you felt in your heart. He laid his head on your waist, not wanting you to see him cry, before getting up and clearing his throat. “I’ll grab them from the study.”

In the end, it was the original copy. You got nothing, which is what you wanted, and he took everything. You quickly signed the papers and gave them back to him.

“We can still salvage this,” he all but whispered.

“No we can’t,” you sighed. “I love you, Ransom. Take care of yourself. If not for yourself, then do it as a favor for me.”

You gave him a small kiss on the cheek before walking out of the house.

You cried the entire drive home, but you were overall proud of yourself. It had been so long and he looked so good, but you held your ground. However, it was short lived.

A few months later, a mutual friend invited you out to celebrate the success of their law firm, with everyone (Ransom included). You had said no initially, but they wore you down. When you finally agreed, one of the Ransom’s “closest” buddies offered to be your date.

That made you anxious.

It’s not like you owed him anything, but it was still a fucked up thing to do. However, Travis wasn’t taking no for an answer and he ended up being your date to the event.

The Worst Drysdale: You’re dating Travis now? I thought you had better taste than that.

Y/N: Well, I did marry you.

The Worst Drysdale: Don’t be a bitch.

Y/N: Leave me alone, Hugh.

The Worst Drysdale: So that’s how tonight’s gonna go? Okay.

You thought nothing of his texts as you and Travis both made your way around the bar, saying hi to everyone and indulging in shots.

Travis made good conversation and was nice enough, but he wasn’t who you wanted to be with. You could tell that he knew he wasn’t you wanted, but God bless him for trying his hardest.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom, then I think I’ll head out,” you smiled sweetly towards Travis.

“I can take you! It’s no problem,” he smiled hopefully.

“Travis no. Kyle is more your friend than mine and-”

“It would honestly be my pleasure. I’ve been having a really good time tonight, and I hope you have too.”

You were thoughtful for a moment before you spoke. “I am too. Give me a few minutes and we can leave together,” you smiled before escaping into the bathroom.

‘You don’t owe Ransom anything,’ you thought to yourself as you reapplied your makeup.

“I thought he’d never leave you alone,” Ransom smirked as he snaked his way in.

“Get out” you warned, still touching up your makeup and refusing to pay him any mind.

“Come home with me,” he said as if it were the easiest thing in the world to do, wrapping his arms around you and kissing all over your neck. “That bed is useless without you.”

“Leave me alone,” you snapped in a hushed tone as your legs started to give out.

“Oh, someone’s been thinking about it,” he teased as his hands went under your skirt and into your panties.

“Stop!”

“You don’t want me to,” he groaned, slipping two fingers into your wet and most intimate folds. “That’s not what you want at all.”

“Hugh-”

“I’ve told you more than once to stop calling me that,” he warned before pushing a third in.

“Ransom-”

“There’s my good girl. My wife,” groaned as he started to pick up the pace, finger fucking you into oblivion. “Always so obedient.”

“This...this is...holy fuck! We can’t do this!” you mewled as you came all over his fingers. “It’s wrong!”

“Doesn’t feel so wrong when you respond to me so well.”

“Ransom-”

“You’ve had your little playtime. Tell Travis you’re going home alone.”

“I can’t-”

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car. Don’t stay too long,” he warned.

It was as if your body was set on auto pilot.

You couldn’t stay away even though you wanted to. You told Travis that you were feeling too buzzed to hold a decent conversation and that you’d text him in the morning. When you made your way out, Ransom was ready in his Beamer, cock out as he stroked it, letting you know what he was waiting for.

You blew him the entire time back to what was now his house, only stopping when he finally parked in his driveway.

“Missed you so much,” he groaned as you lowered yourself onto him in the driver’s seat. “ This fucking pussy...fuck! You’re so perfect me!”

“Is it better than hers?” you questioned as you started to ride him.

“She doesn’t even come close,” he whimpered, gripping your hips tight and upthrusting into you.”No one could ever come close.”

“Then show me,” you demanded breathlessly, gripping his face so his gaze was only on you. “Show me that I’m the only one who has ever meant anything to you. Make me believe you,” you demanded.

Ransom fucked you in every room that night, making sure that you felt satisfied before he whisked you off into another one.

You both proclaimed your love to one another multiple times that night, as loud as you could, before you both bowed out in the bedroom that you used to share.

When the sun woke you up the next day you quickly got dressed and silently made your way out of the bedroom, before ordering a car service and getting back to your house.

You weren’t surprised when he called and left multiple voicemails. All of them begging you to at least meet up for coffee so you two could talk. However, as far as you were concerned, there really wasn’t anything left to talk about. You’d made a poor judgment call, that you spent months cursing and hating yourself for, and now you just had to deal with it.

The last voicemail he left you almost made you cave.

‘I know I have no right to want anything from you. When I told you I love you, I meant it. Besides the fact you’re the most amazing fuck I’ll ever have (you had to roll your eyes at that), you were my best friend and I fucked that up. You are the only person who has ever truly been there for me and I took advantage of that. I took you for granted and the love you had for me and there’s nothing I can do now besides beg you to please come back. I swear to God that if you come back, I will treat you right. I’ll be the man I promised you I would be, if not better...just please.”

You played the message over and over again while crying and drowning your sorrows in wine, but never called him back.

That’s when angry Ransom made an appearance.

He bragged to everyone that he fucked you senseless that night, multiple times, and made sure to rub it in Travis’ face. You couldn’t even blame Travis for never speaking to you again after that.

Would you really have been able to blame him though? If the tables were turned, you wouldn’t have been caught up in that drama-filled shit show either.

You held your ground though and refused to give in. No matter how many times the filthy details of what you two did that night got back to you. However, after Sasha told you that she and her husband saw him out with a group of friends 6 months later and he was still talking about it, you finally snapped.

You sped over to his house, drunk as hell, at 2am and started pounding on the door.

“Open up asshole!” you screamed, one fist pounding on the door, while the other hand held a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

“What the fuck?!” you heard Ransom exclaim before he opened the door. “What the fuck is the matter with you....are you drunk?”

“What’s the matter with me?! What the fuck is the matter with YOU?! Is it not enough that Travis now hates me and everyone thinks I’m some pathetic little slut?! You STILL have to go around talking about the fact that we fucked that night?!”

“Y/N, lower your voice-”

“Why?! Is one of your little whores in there? Hi Stephanie! I hope you’re enjoying my leftovers!”

“Will you stop?! No one is here but I do have neighbors! The same ones you used to love, so please just come inside-”

“You left me that voicemail and I almost believed you. You almost had me, but you’re still pulling the same shit you’ve been doing since High School! You just keep using your words to twist and manipulate feelings and I’m sick of it! I hate you!”

“Don’t say that,” he warned.

“Why not?! It’s true! I hate you! I hate you so fucking much! I hate everything about you and I wish I never met you!”

“Y/N-”

“I hate that I miss your laugh, I hate that I ever trusted you, I hate the way I miss your touch, the way you cook dinner, your stupid jokes, your support, the way you try to fight sleep when we’re watching movies,” you started to cry. “I hate that I search you on the internet just to make sure you’re okay, I hate hoping that maybe I’ll get to see you if I go to some of the old bars and restaurants, I hate that I miss you holding me and telling me you love me, I hate that all I want is to be with you, and I hate that no matter how hard I try, I can’t fucking hate you at all,” you sobbed, dropping to your knees.

“Y/N....I’m so sorry,” he responded weakly, getting down beside you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Get off of me!” you yell as you pathetically fought against him.

You both stayed like that for a while before he carried you inside bridal style, taking you to the bedroom that you both used to share.

“I’m going home,” you sniffed out as soon as he placed you on the bed.

“You’re not driving like this. You shouldn’t have driven here at all,” he snapped, taking your car keys out of your pocket.

“You’re one to talk.”

“You’re not me, Y/N. You could’ve gotten into an accident.”

“Wouldn’t feel nearly as painful as this does,” you huffed sitting up, trying to grab your car keys.

“You’re not driving anywhere tonight, so knock it off,” Ransom snapped, moving the keys just in time.

“Give me my damn car keys, Hugh!”

“Don’t start that shit! You’re staying here tonight and sleeping it off!”

“You can’t make me stay here!” you snapped before getting out of the bed and storming out of the bedroom.

“Oh no you don’t!” He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you back to him right before you could leave the room. “Stop being so fucking difficult!”

“No!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do if something happens to you?! How do you think I’ll feel?! You’re staying here!” he yelled, turning you around and making you look him the eyes. “You’ve already left me, Y/N. Please don’t take yourself away from me all together.”

“Fuck,” whispered, looking into his eyes.

You spent that night underneath him, telling him how much you love and need him. He loved you like it was graduation night all over again, constantly apologizing for all of the pain he put you through. Telling you that you’re his whole world.

He held you close after and you let him. You would lie and tell yourself that it was because of the alcohol, but in reality you both knew it was because it was what you really needed. No, you didn’t trust him, but you’d never stop loving him.

The next day came too fast for the both of you and Ransom didn’t give you a chance to pull your disappearing act.

“You won’t even stay for coffee?” he asked as he watched you get dressed.

“It’s better if I don’t,” you sighed, pulling your shoes on.

“We can make this work, Y/N.”

“I don’t trust you anymore, Ransom. Besides, this isn’t healthy. We both know that.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“You said the same thing last time.”

“Things are different now, Y/N. I’m different.”

“When’s the last time you slept with her?” you asked, finally turning to meet his gaze.

“Y/N-”

“That tells me everything I need to know,” you scoffed, pulling your hoodie over your head. “I should get going.”

“I can’t make you stay, can I?”

“Not this time, baby.” You walked over to his side of the bed and kissed him deeply. “Thank you for taking care of me last night and for not letting me drive.”

“Please don’t go,” he begged, choking back tears.

“Take care of yourself, please. I love you,” you smiled softly before walking out and leaving him to quietly cry.

After that, he stopped calling and texting. Stopped looking for ways to see you and stopped interfering with your love life. He finally respected your wishes and it hurt like a bitch. You went on dates but no one really made you feel anything. You slept with a few guys, but of course Ransom had ruined that for you too. On your most vulnerable nights, you cried while looking through scrapbooks you had put together of you two. He had gone from being apart of your every day life to the love of your life to your biggest heartbreak to a complete stranger.

You’d seen him one time since then and you prayed he didn’t see you. Your friends had taken you out for your birthday and he was at the restaurant with her. As much as it pained you, you did your best to just focus on having a great night out with your friends. Halfway through the dinner, the waiter brought over your favorite: a tequila sunrise. Only, you hadn’t ordered it. In fact, you stopped getting them after your divorce went through. It was the first drink you’d ever had and Ransom was the one who made it for you. After the divorce, it was just too much.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this,” you smiled up at him.

“There was a man at the bar who requested I give this to you once he left. He also asked me to wish you a happy birthday,” the waiter smiled before walking off.

You wanted to be angry with him, but the fact that he had remembered made you feel special and reminded you why you’ll never stop loving him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a deep voice says playfully in your ear bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Just go away, Hugh,” you respond, closing your eyes and gripping the railing.

“I’ve told you about calling me that-”

“There a million other people here for you to bother-”

“But none of them are my wife.”

“Neither am I.”

“We both know that’s bullshit,” he whispers softly from behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hugh-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“You’re here with her. What else am I supposed to call you? You cheated on me with her in our bed and I’m supposed to feel special all these years later?”

“Shes’ never meant anything to me and you know that.”

“That doesn’t make either of us sound less pathetic.”

“Just stop,” he demands in a miserable tone. “You’ve proven your point and I’m obviously nothing without you. Just come home. I’ve given you space and time haven’t I? Just come home”

“We don’t have a home anymore.”

“Y/N-”

“Hugh!” Stephanie calls breaking you both out of the little world you both were in. “Your grandfather wants you.”

“He can wait a little bit longer!”

“Really? I’m standing right here! You can’t even pretend-”

“Honestly, you can’t even pretend? He never wanted you, Steph,” you call and Ransom chuckles softly in your ear. “For as idiotic as we may be, you’re the real moron here for hanging around after all this time in hopes that he’ll ever actually give a damn about you. I truly hope you never thought he’d love you, cause that’s never going to happen,” you state flatly.

“You’re a real cunt, you know that?”

“And you’re a whore,” you scoff.

Stephanie doesn’t say a word before breaking out into tears and running back into the mansion.

“Come back home,” Ransom repeats.

“Your grandfather wants you.”

“Well, I want you.”

“Shouldn’t have let me go then,” you sigh, breaking out of his hold and heading back inside.

“How much time do you still need?!” Ransom snaps, following close behind as you grab another drink.

“We’re divorced, Ransom. We tried, it didn’t work, you insist on staying with her, and I’m content to just living the rest of my fucking life without you.”

“Well, I’m not,” he snarls, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the bathroom with him and slamming the door shut. “What else do you need me to do to show you that I’m sorry?!”

“Let’s not start this. I knew I shouldn’t have come,” you sigh, downing your drink. “Can’t do this with you, Hugh. I can’t and I won’t.”

“Call me Hugh again and you won’t like what happens next,” he growls, wrapping his hand around your throat.

God, you want him so bad. “Stop it.”

“No, I love you and you love me. This is stupid, come home!”

“No! You can’t always have your way! Stop being a child and let me go, Hugh!” you spat at him.

You know better. You know better than to push him when he’s already so angry, but it’s been so long and you miss him so much. You need him.

In one swift move, he put you on the sink and is ripping your panties off. You pull him close to you, opening your legs to make room for him, kissing him hard as he fumbles with his belt.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” he growls against your lips, pushing his pants down before hiking your dress up.

“Yeah and you’re an asshole,” you moan in anticipation.

“You know you’re the only one I love,” he breathes as he thrusts into you, loving the gasp that escapes you. “I love you so fucking much but you insist on making everything difficult.”

“Then why are you here with her?” you breathlessly question as you close your eye and lean your head back against the mirror door of the medicine cabinet.

“Need to hurt you,” he grunts as he fucks into you relentlessly “since you hurt me.”

“You hurt me first,” you moan, tears coming from both the pleasure and the fact that you two are destined to destroy each other every time you’re alone together.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I swear to God, I’ll never do it again. I’ll never lie, I’ll never cheat...fuck, I need you so much,” he moans, pulling the straps of your dress down and unfastening the front of your bra in one swift move.

His mouth is on one of your nipples almost instantly, licking and sucking with so much greed. “Ransom...I...oh my God!”

“Need to hear you say it. Please,” he begs pathetically, looking up at you in your blissed out state. “Please baby.”

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much,” you confess, cumming hard as you run your hands through his hair.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises and you clench around him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, baby!”

“Fuck!” he grunts and you can tell he’s close. He forces your legs around his waist before wrapping both arms around you tight and pulling you off the sink top. “Need more of you.”

“Holy shit!” you cry out as you feel him deeper inside of you. “God, you fuck me so good!”

“”Better than anyone else?”

“Fuck yes,” you mewl as he starts to kiss all over your neck, biting and sucking on your collar bone. “Ransom!” you whimper.

“That’s it, give it to me right now,” he demands, looking up at you.

You let out a cry so loud that you’re sure the whole mansion hears as a orgasm washes over you. Your entire body feels weightless as you hang on to Ransom for dear life, drowning in endless waves of bliss. You’re brought back to reality when you feel your back hit the medicine cabinet door and Ransom is yelling a slew of obscenities.

You both stay like that for a moment, no sounds other than your labored breaths. There’s no way everyone didn’t hear you two, but it isn’t like it matters because you’re positive that you both look wrecked.

“Let’s go home,” Ransom says after a beat, slowly pulling out of you and starting to get himself together.

“We don’t have a home,” you respond softly, putting your bra back on and pulling up the straps on your dress.

“Are you fucking serious?!”

“Even if I were to ever get back with you, why the fuck would I want to go back there?”

“It’s our home!”

“Yeah, our home that you broke my heart in and currently live in with-”

“She doesn’t fucking live there!”

“You still fuck her there!”

“This is so fucking stupid! You just said-”

“So what? We had sex, Ransom. You of all people should know that it doesn’t mean we’re committed,” you snap as you put your shoes back on.

“Y/N-”

“Just leave it alone,” you sigh softly before straightening up your hair and exiting the bathroom.

You can feel eyes on you and don’t care. He was your husband first anyway. You pick a drink off one of the trays the server is carrying around and quickly down it before grabbing another.

You’re definitely going to need a car service to get home after this.

You look up to see Stephanie glaring daggers into you and send a sarcastic smile her way, before throwing back your drink and quickly grabbing another.

“Hey, I’d like to propose a toast to Harlan,” you hear Ransom call from the other room. Curiosity gets the better of you and make your way into the living room area. “Not only has his passion been handed down to me, but after all these years, he’s still turning out some of the best damn mysteries I’ve ever read. Here’s to the next book and the one after that! We’re all so proud and love you so much,” he smiles warmly at his grandfather, who is just as taken aback as everyone, but touched by the kind words none the less. Everyone is quick to cheer and raise their glasses, but Ransom interrupts as his eyes land on you.

There’s that anger.

“I’d also like to propose a toast to my ex-wife that I just fucked senseless in the bathroom,” he smiles at you and feel rage boiling in your stomach as you can see Harlan put his face in his hands from the corner of your eye. “Here’s to the one woman I’ll ever love even though she’s being a giant bitch and won’t take me back, no matter how many times I try to get this shit right. To you babe,” he says with a plastic smile and anger in his eyes.

“Go to hell!”

You quickly make your way to the study, stumbling a little, as you grab your purse and wrap around sweater.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” Ransom growls, throwing his glass to the ground, and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You turn and slap him hard before yanking your arm free. “I’m going home!”

Ransom trails behind you trying to grab ahold of you and getting you to stay.

“No!” he finally shouts, getting his arm around your waist and pulling you close , just as you reach your car. “You can’t-”

“Did you really think that was the best way to go about anything?!” you scream, breaking out of his hold. “Telling everyone you fucked me then calling me a bitch?!”

“You are a bitch!”

“Then why do you want me so bad?!”

“Because I fucking love, Y/N!” he shouts, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Please...just please-”

“Let me go, Ransom,” you sniffle out, trying to break free of him.

“No, not until you tell me you’re coming back.”

“I can’t do this anymore. Any of it. You have to let me go,” you sob, using all of your strength to push him off of you and getting into your car.

You start your car, ignoring all of voices in your head telling you that you’re in no condition to drive, and speed off. Your phone automatically syncs to the radio and starts playing music as furiously wipe away the tears.

‘It was a fun, strange summer

I rolled on, didn’t think of you

We lost touch with each other

Fall came and I had to move

Moving backwards, hurt comes after

Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line’

As the song went on, all of your memories with Ransom came rushing through at once. The good and the bad. The first time you two met in kindergarten, the first time he ever defended you, the first argument you two ever had, the first time you two kissed...

‘If I cry just a little

And then laugh in the middle

If I hate you then I love you

Then I change my mind...’

Memories of your wedding day and you two sharing your first dance came to mind, just as you saw headlights behind you. You know its him and it makes you cry even harder.

‘If I need just a little

More time to deal with the fact

That you should have treated me right

Then I’m more than just a little justified’

Your phone starts buzzing and you know it’s him, probably wanting you to pull over so you can talk and work things out, but you just want to get home and away from him. You lean over to hit ignore and swerve slightly into the next lane, where another car is coming at you.

In any other case, you would just swerve back into your lane and that would be that, but you’re drunk, hurt, crying, and not thinking clearly. You swerve even more into the other lane and hit the guard rail, flipping your car over. The last thing you see in your mind before darkness overcomes you is Ransom smiling at you on your wedding day.

**

When you come to, you hear your mother before you see her.

“You have no right to be here! This is your fault!” she screams at who you can only assume is Ransom.

“I know but please-”

“She wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t upset her! You always upset and hurt her! Are you happy now?! Have you finally had enough?!” she cries.

“Mom,” you call groggily, trying to sit yourself up, only to be met with pain. “Mom stop. It’s not his fault.”

“Oh my baby!” she cries even harder, running over to your side and wrapping her arms around you.

You look around to see your friends, Harlan, Linda and Richard, and Ransom all standing in your hospital room.

Great.

“How do you feel?” your mother asks, pouring water into a cup for you.

“Like I’ve been in a car accident,” you scowl as you prop yourself up. “Where is my car?”

“That’s the least of your worries right now,” Vivian snaps. “Are you crazy?!”

“Guess what I don’t need right now?”

“I don’t care! You could’ve died, Y/N!��

“I know and I’m sorry. I was just upset and wasn’t thinking rationally.”

“Because of him,” your mother spits towards Ransom, venom dripping from her lips.

“I’m 34 years old, Ma. I’m an adult. I made the choice to drive drunk. The fault is no ones but my own.”

“Be that as it may, you’re never seeing him again!”

“Whatever you say,” you reply sarcastically, sliding back down. “What did the doctor say?”

“You have some cracked ribs,” Harlan spoke softly, voice hoarse. You can tell hes been crying and it broke your heart. “Some obvious bruises and cuts, but overall, you’re fine.”

“I really know how to leave a party, don’t I?” you smile at him to which he laughs softly in response.

“What can I do?” Ransom asks, eyes not meeting yours as he stands in the corner like a child in timeout.

“Can you all give us a minute?” you ask, your gaze not leaving him.

“Y/N-”

“Mom, I’m in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. Where am I going?”

She scowls at you before glaring at him. “We’ll be right outside.”

“Don’t I know it?” you sigh, rubbing your head in an attempt to ward off the headache that was coming on.

When the room was empty you both just looked at each other. What else could you do?

“I never meant to-”

“Just don’t,” you interrupted “I made the choice to drive after drinking way too much. This is my fault.”

“I pushed you to it.”

“Yeah, you telling everyone we fucked then calling me a bitch? Thanks a lot for that.”

“I was just angry.”

“You’re always angry, Ransom,” you sigh. “How are you not tired of being so angry all the time?”

“The only time I’m not angry is when I’m with you,” he sighs running a hand through his hair. “I get it now though...I’ll stay away for good, even if I do see you-”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want,” you admit shyly, playing with your fingers. “Your face on our wedding day is the last thing I saw before everything went dark. I love you and I’ll never stop...”

“What do you need me to do? I swear I’ll do anything.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know what I need or if it’ll ever be enough. I just know that I love you too much to never see or feel you again. You are everything to me. Always have been and always will be. How am I supposed to just quit you like it’s nothing?” you ask, wiping away the few tears that slipped away.

“I can be the man you deserve, I promise,” he cries, taking your hands as he sits at the foot of your hospital bed. “What can I do to prove that to you?”

You just smile at him and stroke the back of his hand with you thumb, because in all honesty....you don’t know.

**

Ransom was with you every day that you were in the hospital. He had them move you to a private room, where every morning your room was dressed with new flowers, and he was the first person you saw in the morning and the last person you saw when visiting hours came to an end.

He really was doing his best to show you how much he cares and it only made you love him more, despite your reservations.

“You get released tomorrow,” he smiles once you finally wake up.

“Thank God, I’m so sick this place.”

“I know you are, baby,” he sighs. He knows you’ve hated hospitals since the death of your father, you’ve tried to stay as far from hospitals as you can. “I’m so sorry-”

“Ransom, don’t start up again. I made the choice.”

“Because I made you upset,” he sighs, hands on his hips. “I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

“I just wanna go home,” you sigh looking out the window.

“About that,” he starts softly “it’s obviously up to you, but I did sell our old home. The new one has already been purchased, but I know that we’re still working this out, so the ball is in your court.”

“Meaning...?”

“Do you wanna go home or do you wanna go home...with me?” he asks nervously, shoving his hands into his pocket.

In this moment, you’re truly torn because you don’t know what to do. He’s done so much to prove to that he has changed, but at the same time, his past actions are what led you two to be in the position you’re in now.

You look at him and honestly can’t decide where your head or heart are at. You’re not sure if you’ll ever truly know.

‘If I need just a little

More time to deal with the fact

That you should have treated me right

Then I’m more than just a little justified’

~~

taglist: @itsbrittany425, @jtargaryen18, @whxre4cevans, @sweetflowerdreams

[missuhmisery]

meg thrombey headcannons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

can you tell i like her rings yet!?

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

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

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

love u <3

[bishopgirl98]

Ransom Drysdale

Deadly Association Series

Part One Part Two

Ransom and Robbins

The Meeting (Prequel) TBD

[shutupanddance]

New follower here! Could you write a piece with Benoit Blanc and a reader who is a shy timid secret admirer who gives him little gifts on his desk then sneaks out. But Blanc being the awesome detective he is finds out and ends up giving the reader a little kiss on the cheek?

Gracias!

Adorable!! Love it!! Enjoy ;)

It had been happening for months now, on and off. The detective would return to his office after being out in the field, and find something gift-wrapped on his desk. Sometimes in a paper bag, sometimes in wrapping paper, sometimes simply tied with a ribbon.

The thing is, you were leaving them.

A friend of yours had been helped by Benoit Blanc, and you were involved. Since then, you have followed every one of his cases, and left little tokens of appreciation on his desk while they were being solved.

You figured he deserved it, after all the service he put in for the community. And for how he helped your friend. Secretly, though, you just thought he was an amazing guy, and wanted your gifts to send that message.

Today, you have the same goal. You just left Blanc’s office, and are now making your way back home, having deposited a simple candle with an ornate holder.

You smile against the biting cold, shiver, and pull your coat around you. Your scarf had blow away just a few days ago while you were out ice skating, and you haven’t had time to replace it. You find that the cold doesn’t do as much damage, though, when your cheeks are already pink with excitement and happiness.

You don’t notice that anything is different when you first enter your apartment. It isn’t until after you’ve changed into some warm clothes and put a kettle on that you realize there is something on your kitchen island. A gift.

It’s wrapped in decorative paper, covered in blue snowflakes and glitter, and tied with twine.

A small gasp escapes you, and you feel the air whoosh over your lips. What is this?

You gingerly untie the twine, and the paper falls away. Inside is a beautiful, deep purple scarf. To replace the one I lost, you realize.

You’re trying to figure out who could have left this. And why would they give it to you? How did they know you lost your scarf? You pull it out from the paper and begin to wrap it around your neck, when you notice a note, tucked away in the fabric folds.

Y/N -

I don’t mean to intrude (although I know you have already been in my office), but I believe you are in need of a scarf. I hope this serves you well.

- B.B.

You feel many emotions run through you at once. Panic, guilt, embarrassment, but then surprise, warmth, and excitement. And something even softer that you can’t quite place.

Without giving yourself time to think, you grab your coat, tie the scarf snuggly around your neck, and head back out into the cold. You know the way to Benoit Blanc’s office well, so it doesn’t take long.

You practically burst in, to find the detective lighting the candle you had just left.

Benoit looks at you for awhile before setting down the lighter. You’re smiling, even though you’re a bit embarrassed. He notices your neck.

“I’m assuming you like the scarf?” He chuckles. You nod.

“It’s beautiful.”

There’s a strange moment of silence, and you really aren’t sure what to say. Thankfully, Benoit takes care of that for you.

“I simply wanted to thank you for your gifts. I know you have a great appreciation for what I do, though I can’t quite understand it, and to have an admirer during the tougher cases has lightened my day many times.

I suspected it was you, but I didn’t want to assume. I was following you a few days ago to confirm my suspicions, when you lost your scarf.”

You smile. 

“Well, thank you.”

“Thank you. Now, I believe it is your day off? Best be getting you back to your warm home.”

You nod, a little worried you’ve made him uncomfortable. But he’s smiling so gently, and his eyes fall on you with such softness…

He gets the door for you. And as you say goodbye, he plants a gentle kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the cold, you’re sure he’d notice your blush.

“If you ever become more interested in my work,” Benoit says slowly, “I could always use an extra hand.”

You can hardly believe your ears.

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

If only you knew the adventures that await you…

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

The Promise: Part Two

Summary- 2.2k Ransom Drysdale x You. You tried to leave after you caught Ransom cheating, but the trust fund prick isn't going to just let you go. He has you in his snare and you find out just what he really is, what a monster he's been hiding behind the mask.

Warnings- This is a Cheating Fic. Non Con abuse, use of a belt on the reader, suffocating, mentions of blood. This is an 18+ Only blog.

A/N- I sat on this one for a while but I'm finally satisfied with it. So those of you who have been waiting, I hope this holds up to the expectations of what you hoped for.

The Promise

Ransom drew out the belt as you pulled yourself to your feet on the landing, your eyes shifting from his gleaming ice blue eyes to the belt he was fisting into his hand, his tone dripping with warning. “You think you can just fuck around and leave? No Sweetheart, that’s not how this works.” He stalked forward as fast as you tried bolting back away from him, your hands held in front of you.

How ironic of him considering the amount of times he has cheated on you while you remained faithful to the bastard.

“Ransom what the fuck are you doing?!” You screamed, your hands tracing behind you along the wall, seeking a doorknob to escape into.“

“Whatever the hell I want Y/N.” He snarled with glee as he pounced. You shoved your body into a door to spring it open but there was no chance to be able to slam it shut, he overpowered himself right behind you and circled an arm around your waist to lift you off your feet, kicking out and screaming in rage at your ex-boyfriend.

“LET ME DOWN YOU BASTARD!” you screamed when he shoved you hard into the wall, slamming your head against the pretty paint color you had chosen for the master bedroom the year before. When everything was going perfectly for the two of you. When life had been this fairytale, perfect sweet doting boyfriend who promised he loved you, cherished you.

Now the peony blue walls were crushing into your face, Ransom taking the belt and snapping it against your ass. “Look at you thinking you can order me around.” The bite of leather stung even through the clothing. Ransom crashed his chest into your back, the heavy scent of his cologne making you gasp out, the air in your lungs slowly getting crushed from you and making you wheeze harshly while you struggled.

The bastard ground his erection into you, he was getting turned on by you struggling and that thought made you furious and scared.

Even on a good day, Ransom was an ominous bomb waiting to be set off. And this time you finally pulled that pin.

“Keep trying little girl, just makes me fucking hard for you.” Another hard rut against your ass slammed your hips into the wall. “That little spitfire in you, always was a fucking pain in my ass. Tonight though, you are going to make it all worthwhile.” He circled his hand around the back of your neck, squeezing hard enough to make your legs want to give out and he yanked you off the wall, throwing you onto the bed where you twisted to your back, trying to pull away from his advances. The belt snapped against the side of his leg as an ominous promise to use it on you.

“Ransom, we can work this out. I swear I was just leaving for the night.” Your fear turned into stuttering lies, if you ever got out of the house, you were running as far as you could.

Ransom snickered as he made a grab for you, pulling you forward to him and yanking at your shirt, easily swatting at your hands that were trying to make him stop. “HUGH! QUIT IT!” and your hand lifted to snap loudly across his composed face. A red hand mark blazing against his cheek and his head snapped back towards you, dragging his hand against your chest and ripping at the bra you were wearing.

“Call me Hugh one more time Y/N.” He whispered coldly, the belt he had folded in his hold pressing up against your chin, making your head tip back, your breaths coming in panic rushes and your pupils dilated, the adrenaline making a whoosh-whoosh in your eardrums. Maybe that was your heart racing.

“Ransom- please” snapping the belt against your cheek, making you cry out at the sting.

“Say it again Y/N, like you mean it. Come on Baby, I know you want to.” He purred at you, looming over you till you started to press back into the mattress, your hands to his chest, trying to keep him back.

He wasn't going to stop, the belt snapped against your cheek again, this time you felt the hot taste of blood seep into your mouth, the leather snap had made you bite your inner cheek. You turned your face away to try and escape him, muttering “Hugh.” Just like he wanted.

Enough for him to break his cool, his usually handsome face turning dark and promising. Rearing himself back, he reached over his shoulder to pull his own shirt over his head, each muscle tensed, ready for release. You took the chance to try scrambling away, but he weaved his fingers into the band of your pants and yanked roughly down, tangling your legs up till he ripped them harshly away and flipped you to your stomach once more, the belt loosening till it was around your neck and a snap tightened it painfully, yanking your head back.

“Gonna act like a bitch Sweetheart, you gonna be treated like a little bitch.” His hand yanked under your waist and jerked you to your knees, your hands scrambling in the expensive cotton sheets that you had lovingly picked out for their softness level.

You hated them now. The pillowing softness while Ransom was treating you so brutally like he hated you. His hand came down viciously against your ass, pushing you forward till your screams were muffled into the pillows. Each blow made you jerk forward, snapping your head back with each jerk of the belt that was tight enough to constrict your air till Ransom loosened it enough for a burning breath to fill your lungs.

Tears streaked your face, your hands curling against the headboard in front of you to keep you from crashing into it as he loomed over you. “Oh we have been here before, haven't we baby girl? Too bad this time isn't going to be as good.” His smirk pressed against your temple, easily recalling how recently he had you right where he wanted you.

He had your hands tied against the headboard, knees spread for him while he laid underneath you, heavy arms circled around your hips to hold you to his face. Each swipe of his tongue through your swollen folds was leaving you dripping more on his clean-shaven face. His grunts were pressed against your clit, teasing the sensitive bud till you felt yourself grinding into his face.

“Fuck you taste so fucking good Y/N.” You heard Ransom praise you, the flush of heat spiraling in your belly at the words alone. His fingers dug into your hips to help that grind, making you cry out his name passionately.

“Yes, again Ransom, oh god-” Your eyes fluttered as your head tilted back, trying to pull away for a moment as his tongue swirled you in a maddening way, needing more and having to escape the sensations.

But Ransom was not to be denied his prize. He yanked you back onto his face, kissing your inner thighs, sucking on your folds before he delved back in. Lapping at your pulsing entrance, he fucked you with laps of his tongue, trailing in all the intimate areas. Your body flooded with that feel good orgasm tightening your muscles and you came, squirting on his face which he continued to shamelessly lap at till you sagged forward, braced into the headboard. Ransom pulled up, wedging himself between you and the headboard till he had you straddled in his lap, tilting your head up to kiss you, taking away any pleas you might have had to take a break. Already you can feel his cock pressing into you, making you whimper into the kiss. He was far from done with you.

The tell-tale zip of his pants from behind you made you shudder, your eyes screwed shut as you twisted your hands into the headboard, preparing yourself to hold onto it. How you resorted to letting this happen, shame flooded you, hate, disgust. Ransom wasn't gentle, pushing himself into you without a care for your body.

Fierce thrusts rocked you, his belt looped to unbearable tightness till you reached behind you, clawing at him to loosen it. Reaching over your head, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and arched back to let your head fall to his shoulders, his mouth latching to the side of your neck not in praising kisses he usually gives.

No he sinks his teeth into your neck, grunting with each forceful thrust into your heat. Your body, fuck you couldn't believe it was betraying you. Pain started to turn to pleasure, allowing his jerking thrusts to sink into you, your body clenching around him even as your lungs burned with need for oxygen and your mouth kept trying to gasp, wheezing out moans.

“You are fucking turned on by this you little slut.” He hissed when he let go, lapping his tongue against your neck, fisting his hand around the belt one more time, this time your lungs screamed and you jerked in his hold, fighting against him once more.

“Fuck Y/N, you are so hot while I’m strangling the fucking air out of you while your pussy just begs to be fucked.” Your vision is going hazy, guttered sounds rising from your chest as you tug frantically at his hair, trying to pull it out from the root. Your other hand digging at his snapping hip, oh god, he's going to kill you. Your eyes roll back, spots blurring your vision as your lungs try so desperately to inhale.

When you felt yourself start to sag, he loosened the belt and your gasp made you choke, the rush making you cum in the utmost pleasure you have ever experienced that you spasmed, falling back into his hold. Ransom loosened the belt and shoved you forward to fall into the pillows with still gasping inhales, when you peeked back at him, he was still kneeling behind you, his hand fisted around his cock to jerk himself. He dropped the belt beside the bed, and grasped your hip, flipping you to your back so he could look at all of you, his cock throbbing in his hold. Falling forward, one hand planted at your head, your eyes roving him in a dazed look, your energy sapped from your limbs following your orgasm. “Please don’t.”

“I do whatever the fuck I want and you are going to just take it, Honey.” He pushed a thigh up around his hip and pressed himself back to sink into your swollen aching pussy.

The arch to escape him only made him more forceful, making you accept him just as you did before, with complete and utter loss of your control. “You will never ever leave me. You want to know why?”

You shook your head furiously till he grabbed at your chin to still you, stuffing his fingers into your mouth till you gagged around him. “Because I own you babygirl, financially you got nothing that's not tied to my funds, your little shop in the city, mine. Friends? also mine, and trust me, I can ruin you. They will turn their backs on you, you will have nowhere to go." He hissed out in promise to you. "Plus… And I know you've been ignoring this…” pounding thrust into your sore pussy made you arch under him, brushing against his chest with a distressed whine around his fingers. “... I will murder you without hesitation.” He bared his teeth menacingly as your eyes widened.

You always chose to ignore the rumors about Ransom, although deep down, in the places you never dared look, you suspected.

“I did it before and got away with it Honey.” His weight dropped on you, grinding his pelvis into you, his cock angled to hit you just right, tightening around him. “Oh fucking feel you strangling me so sweetly.” His fingers pressed your tongue down, making you gag all over again and tears burst from your eyes till he pulled his fingers out, replacing it with his own mouth. Hotly shoving his tongue in your mouth, dragging away to bite on your lip while he sped up, jerking your other quivering leg around his hip. Your nails dug into his back, dragging deep welts down tense muscles.

“Fuck… fucking hell.” He started to chant, everything between you two chasing an ending. Your hips bucked underneath him and he crushed you into the mattress till you felt him stagger in his rhythm, the rush of warmth flooding you that made you feel so much shame.

Since your body craved feeling him cum just as he had so many times in you, you welcomed it with your second orgasm, taking away that panic and fear for a few moments with that mind-numbing bliss.

You sunk into it, Ransom's familiar weight crushing against you but the reality of it all sunk in.

He just told you he murdered his grandfather and was perfectly fine in murdering you should you piss him off.

Your heart raced and your thoughts overboard while he rolled off you, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to kick off his pants for good now that he was done fucking you. For now.

You pull off to your normal side of the bed and move to get up, grab something to cover yourself when Ransom stretches his arms above his head for a second and brushes his hair back into place, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Don't forget what I said Y/N, I always get my way. That is a promise I can keep.”

What the fuck were you going to do?