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krirebr · 5 months

Text

More Than This 2

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

Word Count: ~6.1k

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

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

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part One

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

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

“Steve,” you gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list is open

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

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #knives out #steve rogers #steve rogers & reader #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #ce characters #kris wrote something #more than this

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holylulusworld · 3 months

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Entitled rich people

Summary: Your boyfriend and his family are the worst.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warning: snobbish rich people, cocky Bucky, running away with a stranger trope, a break-up

Your boyfriend and his family are the worst. Entitled rich people at their best.

One moment they greet you sweetly, and the next they ask about your father’s business, and if the rumors are true.

To hell with rumors. Your father’s business was in trouble for a while, but he’s a smart and eloquent man.

He mastered the challenge and saved his company. But this doesn’t matter to people like Linda Drysdale.

If she finds a weak spot, she’ll hit you hard, and without mercy.

“Oh, it’s so sweet of you to visit us with Ransom while your father’s business is in trouble. I thought you’d prefer helping your father,” Linda coos, her eyes set on you next to your boyfriend.

“Business is fine,” you are your mother’s daughter, and never back down. Especially not in front of Linda Drysdale. “Sometimes the sea gets a little rougher, you know.” You flash her a perfect faked smile. “Luckily my father is a very good sailor and knows how to run his business. Unlike other people.”

You dip your head to glance at Joni and her daughter. Two perfect examples of people who know how to live off the money of someone else. In their case, Harlan Thrombey. The only bearable member of this fucked up family.

“Sure, sure,” she waves your words off as if you are only an insect to her she can squish with her boot. “Your father knows best.” Linda sneers. “I hope he can save his business.”

“I think he already did.” You dip your head to look the man’s way. “Or so I heard. It was all over the news. Something about a fusion, and Miracle Inc. doing better than before.”

“Who asked you?” Linda’s nostrils flare, and she glares at the man daring to talk without her allowance. “I hired you for the garden, not to interrupt my conversation. People these days.”

“Right, people these days,” the cocky man mirrors her attitude. You chuckle. This guy doesn’t bow in front of Linda Thrombey, and it’s refreshing. “And you didn’t hire me for the garden.”

He steps closer, giving you a once-over while passing you by. He’s wearing black jeans, a matching black leather jacket and black boots. He looks like a bad boy, but his soft blue eyes tell you there is so much you don’t know about him…yet.

You glance in his way, waiting for him to say more. His voice is deep and rough. Something you like about a man.

“What? Of course, I hired you to take care of the garden. I remember our conversation,” she argues, but the stranger won’t have it.

“Lady, you didn’t hire me,” he points his index finger at her. “Your son,” the stranger now jerks his head toward Ransom standing next to you. Your boyfriend stiffens, and he shifts from one foot to the other, “came to my store, bought a bike, and never paid for it. I’m here to get either my money or the bike back.”

“You bought a bike like some vulture?” A gasp escapes Linda’s mouth. She stares at her son, shell-shocked at the news. “Y/N! Why didn’t you stop him? I knew you were trouble when Ransom brought you here for the first time. Before he met you, Ransom would’ve never done such a thing.”

“I’m not his mommy,” you huff, frustrated. “I have better things to do than watching your son’s every step. Unlike him, I got a job.”

“Because your daddy is bankrupt,” Ransom huffs, and pouts. He glares down at you, making sure you know your relationship just ended.

“No. Because my parents raised me right. They gave me roots, but freedom. I work because I want to make my own money, and not live off my trust fund. Which,” you grit your teeth, “by the way is way bigger than yours.”

“Back to the bike,” the stranger interrupts your break-up scene with Ransom. “Money, or my bike. Now!”

“I’ll call the cops. This is a home invasion,” Linda points at the stranger. “You better leave my house.”

“You better teach your son how to pay for the shit he buys,” the man grins. “Don’t you worry. I know where he parked my bike. The pretty boy fell off the bike the first time he tried to get on it.” The man chuckles now.

“I want you to leave. Now.” Linda repeats. “Or I’ll call the cops.”

“Do it,” the man says. “We will see if you get away with stealing my bike.” He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks a brow. “I bet all your nice little friends would love to hear that your son is a thief.”

“No one will believe the likes of you,” she sneers and looks him up and down. “I’ll call my lawyer.”

“How about you call your lawyer, and I'll call mine,” he smirks. “If you want the public to know the Thrombey’s cannot pay their bills any longer.”

You sigh deeply. “As much as I enjoyed this get-together, I’ll go home now. Ransom, lose my number.” The stranger looks at you when you throw Ransom an angry look. “Never call me again. I’m tired of being your arm candy, and to bear your family.”

“If you need a ride, I can help you out.” The man jerks his head toward the door. “It’d be my pleasure to offer my help to a lady in need.”

“Y/N,” you take his offered hand.

“James,” he says, eyes dropping to your hand in his. “You can call me Bucky, though.”

Bucky promised to drive you home, but he had to stop at this bike shop first. One of his partners called him on his way out of Harlan’s house.

“Y/N, this is Steve,” Bucky points at his friend. “He’s my partner and best friend.”

“Hey, what about me? I got the bike back!” Another man holds out his hand. “Name’s Brock, sweetness.”

“I hope you got it back in one piece,” Bucky jokes. “And no flirting with the lady.” He suddenly wraps his arm around your shoulders. “This one is mine…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ransom drysdale #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #Entitled rich people

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marril96 · 2 years

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Knives Out (2019)

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andydrysdalerogers · 1 year

Text

Choose Your Words Carefully ~ Ransom Drysdale

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x F! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: After the events of All Grown Up, you are living with your choices and some of the Thrombeys are not happy…

Warnings: degradation (and not in a good way 😏, Smut, angst, Harlen being an absolute 👑 and Ransom being Ransom.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

AN: it would be recommended to read the first part to understand. You can read it here

You never really regretted your decision. It was the right one for your career, for your life, for you desires. Because every night, as promised, Ransom was there to take care of you, worship you, make you feel things you never did with Ben. That night you called Ransom changed your life. For the better.

Until you met Walt Thrombey.

When you left Ben and went to Ransom, Ransom introduced you to Harlen. Harlen was so impressed with your skills, he hired you on the spot to be his editor. Which of course, Walt took exception to. But you took it, not willing to give Walt the satisfaction of knowing how much he got to you. It seems you were accepted by the rest of the Thrombeys and Drysdales except for Joni, who hated competition, and Walt.

"YN! Why are these manuscripts still here? I thought my father told you to edit and file." Walt was in your face about the stack of manuscripts that you had just received yesterday.

"Walt, since I'm not done editing, I can't file. I'll have them done by the end of the week."

"That's simply not good enough Miss YLN. You may be screwing my nephew, but Harlen makes the rules here."

"How does what I do with Ransom affect my job here?"

"Since he must be fucking you stupid, you may want to hold back so you can get your work done. You are just the flavor of the month after all." Walt let out a cruel laugh as he walked away.

That one hurt.

You finished up the manuscript you were working on and closed up for the evening. You kept the tears at bay while you drove. Once you got to your apartment, you send a message to Ransom.

YN: I don't feel up to decorating tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

You changed into Ransom's white cable knit sweater and some knee-high socks. Making a simple dinner and picking up a book, you made yourself as small as possible on the couch, not wanting to let your emotions get to you. Your phone rang and you saw it was Ransom calling. You debated letting it roll to voicemail but knew that would lead to consequences later. "Hello?"

Princess, what's the matter?

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

Stop lying to me Princess.

"I had a bad day with Walt ok. I just want to relax and try to get rid of these feelings," you tell him as you try not to sob, a lone tear finally falling.

YN, what did he tell you?

"It doesn't matter Ransom. I'll be fine. I'm just not up to decorating for Christmas. I'll call later ok?"

Princess, don't shut me out.

"I'm not. I just need some time." You hang up and curl back up, wanting to get lost in the book you are reading and not think about your boyfriend's family.

An hour later there is a knock at the door that draws you out of your imagination. You get up and answer to find Random holding some bags and a tree. "Ransom?"

"Look, I don't give a shit if you are up to it or not. You are my Princess and I only want to see you happy. So, we are going to put up these decorations, I'm going to have my way with you and you tell me what that motherfucker said to you." He puts down the bags. "I care about you Princess." He kisses you deep and you moan at the intrusion. "There she is, my Princess."

Ransom sets up the tree as you start to unbox all the decorations he bought. "How did you get the tree here?"

"I tied it to the top of the Beamer. Hopefully I didn't scratch it."

You pour some scotch for Ransom and a hot chocolate for yourself as you decorate around the apartment. You sit on the floor looking up at the tree when Ransom throws a blanket near the fireplace, along with a couple of pillows. "Babe, what are you doing?"

"I'm cold and you are in my sweater so I'm going to lie down next to the fire. Wanna join me?" His look of pure lust fills your eyes, and you crawl over to him and straddle him as he lays on his back. His fingers dance on your thighs, just below the hem of the sweater. "Have I told you how much I love this look on you?"

"No, you haven't," you say with a hitch in your breath. He runs his hands from your knees and up to your ass, noticing that you aren't wearing shorts like he assumed, just your panties.

"You've been in your panties this whole time?" You nod and bite your bottom lip. "Oh Princess, were you hoping that I would show up so I can see you like this?" You nod again slowly. "Good." His hands run up north and feels that you haven't been wearing a bra either. He groans and pulls on your nipple, earning him an arch of your back and a moan that goes down to his balls.

He pulls you down so he can kiss you deep, his tongue invading your mouth, showing his dominance. Its what you love about him, that he isn't afraid to play you like a violin. He flips you over, never letting go of the kiss, at the same time hitching a leg over his hip. You can feel his hard cock through his jeans, rubbing it against your cunt, making your moan even louder.

Ransom hooks your panties and starts to slide them down. He slides down as well and kisses the inside of your legs, teasing you. "Ransom," you whine.

"Do you want me to stop? Because whiny girls don't get rewards." He smiled devilishly at you, knowing that you wanted him. He smacked your thigh and you yelped.

"No, I'm sorry."

"Good girl." He went back to work, nipping and sucking on your skin until he finally lapped at your clit, hearing a porn worthy moan come from you. "Is my princess happy now? Hmm... does she like it when I do this to her?" He began to suck and lick over your cunt and clit, making you squirm and squeal.

"Baby, please!" You were trying to wait for permission, to relish in the passion you were feeling.

"What do you want princess? You want to cum? Want me to taste you?" Ransom teased with two fingers before plunging them in and hearing you scream. He pumped his fingers in faster, listening to the squelching from the amount of moisture in your pussy. "Cum now princess!"

You released with another scream, and he worked you through your climax. When you started to calm, he pulled his sweater off of your body, leaving you just in your socks and undressed himself. "You are so beautiful princess. I'm still happy you came to me after the reunion."

"Didn't have a choice baby. I couldn't leave your dick even if I tried." You kissed him hard and nipped at his lip.

"Oh princess, this pussy is still the best in the world." He pushed in slowly, almost too slowly, leaving you needy and wanton. He finally bottomed out and you just needed him to move. You tilted your hips up and he started, slow at first until he was pounding in you. He felt you tighten again. "C'mon princess, I know you have one more in you, I've seen you give me five our first time."

"Ransom, I'm gonna... gonna..."

"Now YN!"

That did it. You squeezed his cock so hard in your release that it prompted his, pouring everything into you. You both were sweating, not just from the pleasure but the heat of the fire as well. As your breathing slowed, Ransom ran his hand through your hair. "Tell me what happened."

You explain what Walt had said earlier. Ransom kept hold of his temper, making sure you didn't feel him tense with anger at what Walt was saying to his girl. He could feel your tension and he just wanted to make you feel better.

"Princess, I'll talk to him ok? He shouldn't be saying those things to you. He can eat shit for all I care."

"Don't Ransom. It will just make it worse." You played with his chest hair as he pulled another blanket on you. "Let's just stay here in this moment." You went quiet as you laid on his chest.

"What is it princess? I know you want to say something."

You sigh and steel yourself. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Ransom." You kept your head on his chest and hoped you weren't an idiot.

Ransom smiled. "I thought you knew that I was already in love with you YN." He kissed your head. "I wouldn't have brought the tree if I wasn't."

You finally look at him. "Really?"

He cupped your face. "Really. I love you princess. And I'll do anything to see you keep smiling."

Ransom walked into the library, a determined look on his face. "Grandpa, can I talk to you?"

"Ransom? Is everything ok?"

"No, its not. Did you know that Walt has been saying very insulting things to YN? Making comments about the fact that she is with me?"

Harlen frowned. This was news to him and disturbing news at that. "I wasn't aware. Is she ok?"

"She was crying in my arms last night. She loves working for you but she is considering leaving."

"Well, we can't have that." Harlen rose and looked out the window. "Do you love her Ransom?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ransom took a defensive pose.

"In this, it matters a great deal." Harlen smiled. "You know that I love YN. She has been the best editor I have ever had and will do anything to keep her. But I need to know if you are willing to do anything as well."

Ransom could see the wheels turning in his granddad's head. "Yes, I love her. She's everything to me."

"Good. That's good. Because I have an idea."

A few days later, it was Christmas Eve and the family had gathered at the manor. Ransom made sure to keep you away from Walt and Donna. They were throwing smug looks at you, knowing you were an invader and probably be gone soon. They assumed that Ransom would be done with you soon. You sipped your champagne and made small talk with Linda and Meg.

Harlen approached the middle of the room. "My dear family, it gives me joy to see you all here tonight, together. But I have an announcement I would like to make." The family stilled, wondering what the patriarch would say. "As you know, I have shifted my focus on writing and left the day-to-day things to Walt and YN. I've just spoken to our attorneys, and I have decided to stop leading Blood and Wine Publishing."

"Dad, what does that mean?" Walt asked with glee. He assumed it would leave him in charge of the publishing house and he could finally get rid of you. He glanced at you, but you remained stoic, your left arm around Ransom's waist.

"It means, son, that I am naming my successor as Editor-In-Chief." He looked at his family. "I'm leaving the position to my granddaughter."

"What?" The collective question was screeched as eyes swiveled to Meg. Med who had just started college and had a petrified look on her face.

"You're leaving the position to an 18-year-old?" Linda asked.

"No of course not," Harlen said. "I'm leaving it to my other granddaughter and my grandson."

Richard laughed. "You don't have another granddaughter."

"You're right, Richard, my mistake. I will have another granddaughter in what, Ransom, five months?"

All eyes were on the two of you as you removed your arm from around Ransom's waist and flashed the diamond to the room. You looked directly at Walt. "We wanted a spring wedding and May seemed perfect."

"But... how... you slut!" Walt jumped up and Ransom placed himself between the two of you.

"Choose your words wisely Uncle. Because she is your boss in just a few months." Ransom gave him a sadistic smile. "If she lets you keep your job."

Walt stopped with realization that his well being was now in your hands. You stepped next to Ransom and took his hand. "Linda, Richard, I know this was not how I wanted to tell you about our engagement, but I couldn't be happier with your son. He is my prince charming."

Ransom looks down at you and leaned over for a passionate kiss. "Oh princess. I love you."

"Love you too, my prince." You smiled at the rest of the family. "I hope this is happy news." And then you looked at Walt and smirked. "I mean, I guess I was fucked into marriage Walt. Not so stupid now."

Ransom laughed. The kingdom was theirs and his princess would soon be his queen. Merry Fucking Christmas indeed.

Taglist

@patzammit @texmexdarling @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @slutforchrisjamalevans

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #chris evans #ransom drysdale smut #christmas smut #all grown up #choose your words carefully #knives out au #chris evans character fanfiction

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blackmissfrizzle · 2 years

Text

Can I

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: During another fun family dinner, Ransom’s new “job” is brought up.

Warnings: Smut, y’all know me by now.

A/N: Inspired by this TikTok

Here’s my masterlist if you want more!

Gif credit: @jamesbuchenan

Bickering surrounded you nonstop. That’s what happens when you have dinner with the Thrombeys. Meg better be happy, you were so bored that you decided to join this shit show. Just when you thought the arguing died down, one person would bring up a controversial topic and all it took was one differing opinion and it turn into a heated debate.

“Sorry, dear.” Harlan tapped your hand. “They just don’t know when to quit.”

You smiled at Harlan. He was the upside of this dinner. The older gentleman reminded you of your own grandfather you missed so much. He made these get togethers much more bearable. “It’s okay. This is fueling my social battery, so I won’t have to go out for a while.”

“Can I get one of those, darling?” Dazzling blue eyes winked at you.

There was one other perk you forgot to mention about Thrombey dinners. Ransom Drysdale. He made your heart and much more intimate parts flutter. Although, you would never do anything about that. You two were polar opposites. Him: brash, spoiled, spontaneous, lazy, uncouth, and extremely attractive. You: reserved, hardworking, people pleaser, and moderately attractive.

Meg swatted her cousin away. “Leave her alone! She does not need to be around your freakiness!”

Ransom leaned back and observed your body. Under that soft and innocent exterior, he knew there was a bad girl underneath. One day when you over, he peered over your shoulder and caught what you were reading on your kindle: a reverse harem. Ever since then his interest in you went up a hundred times more. Every time he saw you, he wondered what smutty book you were reading. He wondered if you touched yourself as you read them. He wondered if you fantasized about the scenes, and he wondered if you fantasized about reenacting them with him.

Leaning forward to invade Meg’s space, Ransom whispered. “Are you cockblocking because you’re trying to be a good friend or are you cockblocking because you’re a big lesbian SJW?”

Five minutes. That’s how long it lasted for the Thrombeys to get into another uproar. Joni and Meg were yelling at Ransom while he laughed, not caring about one word they were saying.

Tired of her cousin thinking he got the last laugh, Meg decided to pull out her trump card. “Yeah, like I would care what someone with an OnlyFans thinks of me.”

Everyone but Harlan, Ransom and his parents gasped. Ransom had an OnlyFans? Why? The dude had loads of money. Or his grandpa had loads of money and he had access to that.

Your eyes ping-ponged between Ransom and the rest of his family. Of course, Walt and his Great Value Trump family were appalled, but other than that no one else seemed horrified. Disappointed? Yes Horrified? No.

Ransom slowly smiled at his baby cousin like he was some sort of Bond villain. “First, how uncharacteristically conservative of you. Sex workers deserve the same respect as anyone else because sex work is work.” He quoted Meg from one of her many debates. “Secondly, you thought you did something, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Parentals and Harlan already know. The rest of you are insignificant, except,” he turned his head to you and kissed your hand. “For you.”

There would’ve been more attention paid to you if the rest of the family wouldn’t keep dragging him into conversation.

“Stop touching her! Who knows what STIs you have?” Meg tried her best to pull your heavy ass chair closer to her.

Doing his best Donna impression, Ransom gasped and clutched his invisible pearls. “Slut shaming is unacceptable. Not very SJW of you, so problematic.” He tsked.

Embarrassment gripped Linda enough. “No more talk about Ransom’s “job” at the dinner table.” This family was going to drive her to an early grave, she thought as she rubbed her forehead. “Ransom, I’ll talk to you about this later.”

“No, let’s talk about it, since my dear baby cousin attempted to air my so called dirty laundry.” Ransom leaned back and did the most glorious manspread.

“Fine, we’re all family here.”

“Mostly.” Jacob mumbled while he never looked away from his phone screen. Little jerk was probably retweeting Andrew Tate at the moment.

Of course, Meg couldn’t let the boy get away with the jab. Since, she was close to you and Marta, she decided to defend both of you. “When they visit grandpa more than you do, they are family.”

Jacob countered stating that Marta was just paid, and you were lonely and pathetic. Bitch wouldn’t be this vicious if you two weren’t the only POC at the table.

Before Meg could get a word in, Ransom tore Jacob to pieces. You swore you saw a little shimmer of a tear roll down the boy’s face. Ransom was able to put a chink in the dipshit’s armor.

Naturally, his parents didn’t appreciate the disrespect, not that Ransom cared about that. “Fuck you,” he pointed at Walt. “Fuck you,” he pointed at Donna. “And a big fuck you, you forever Nazi virgin.” Ransom pointed at Jacob.

The little bit of giggle he heard from you made him proud. He was happy he could elicit such a sound from you.

“Jesus, Ransom, can you stop for just one minute?” Linda wished her son grew up some.

Normally, he would give a smartass reply, but he really wanted to hear what his mother had to say. Ransom raised his hands in surrender and nodded his head as to say, ‘Go on.’

“Ransom,” she sighed, but her voice got louder and angrier with each word she said. “Apparently my girlfriend told me that you are taking your little fucked up OnlyFans photos in my bathroom. Is that true?”

From the tilt of his head and the little smirk, you knew it was true. Damn, maybe you should check them out. No! He’s Meg’s annoying older cousin. Your little debate was being interrupted by the back and forth between the mother and son.

“Shouldn’t it be a little more concerning that your friends paying to see your son’s cock?” He cocked an eyebrow at his mom.

“Ransom!”

You cover your mouth to hide your giggles and commentary. “He does have a point.”

Donna whipped her pointy face toward you. “Of course, you would watch something like that.”

Ransom tsked and wagged his finger. “You do not want to go there, Donna.”

“What are you talking about, Ransom?”

“Boredhousewife69?” He’s been waiting to release this nugget of information forever. “One of my top subscribers. Kinda creepy my aunt is watching me, but hey we’re family by marriage.” He winked and then left the table, pulling you with him and leaving the family in a disarray.

The two of you didn’t get very far. He just led you down the hall to the family room, that’s where Harlan stashes all the good liquor. “Thank you.” You whispered when he handed you a drink.

“It’s the polite thing to do. No matter how many times you’ve been here, you’re still a guest.” He shrugged and sat on the couch opposite of you. Man, he wishes he could draw. There was something about your beauty that needed to be advertised everywhere.

You rarely spoke to Ransom. It was even rarer for you two to be the only ones in a room. So, your voice was much more meek and softer. “Not for that. Sticking up for Marta and…me.”

Good deeds do get rewarded. Maybe he should do them more often. He was going to move closer to you, but his mom with his dad and Harlan following behind her.

Linda was going on about how he was embarrassing the family and needed to get a real job.

“Technically, it’s a real job.” You were curled up in the corner, too comfortable to move from this family moment.

“Huh? YN, how in the world is OnlyFans is a real job?” Linda valued your opinion. You had a good head on your shoulders unlike the people of your generation. Unlike her son.

Damn it, why did that slip out of your mouth? That statement was supposed to be an inner thought. “So, um, something like that takes a lot of marketing and advertising. And then to stand out, is another thing. There’s a bunch of dudes selling the same thing and the one thing I know about Ransom is, he ain’t gonna do anything unless he’s at the top. I’m sure he’s making bank. Then there’s lighting and editing. I spend like thirty minutes trying to take the perfect selfie and caption.”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.” Ransom smiled as you shied away.

Abort mission. Hugh Ransom Drysdale talking about marriage was a sign to get the hell out of there. “You all have a good night!” You hurried out the room and that damn house. It was time for a much needed break from the Thrombey family.

Days after the dinner you found yourself in deep contemplation. You had an OnlyFans account to subscribe to this guy Alex, but he was moving to the back of your mind as Ransom moved to the front. It didn’t help that Ransom was posting thirst traps on Instagram. It was like he was specifically taunting you. Like him shirtless in the hot spring. When did he get all of those tattoos?

Day six is when you broke. Ransom posted some pictures of him in the gym and the hormone monster was calling.

Good thing your username wasn’t anything obvious. If Ransom could figure out Donna, he could figure out yours. Typing in his name you found his profile. He had tiers of subscriptions. You choose the top one because you were being a “supportive” friend. It had nothing to do with early access or personalized videos.

One click and you knew your small laptop screen wouldn’t be enough. Quickly you ran to your living room and connected your HDMI cord to the laptop.

Right there on your 90 inch screen was Ransom’s dick. No wonder he was so arrogant. If you had a dick that big, you would be too.

Grabbing your vibrator, you settled on your couch with your legs spread wide open. From the first couple of words, you could tell this would be a glorious time.

Hours later, you found yourself in the same spot again. Today must have been one of those masturbate all day days. Or maybe it was because of Ransom. For your sanity, you would claim the former.

Ransom’s vivid words had you bent on all fours, with a plug in your ass, one weak hand around your throat as the other played with your clit. He even got you to respond to the video like he was in the room with you. If there was someone outside your door, they would think it was two people on the other side instead of one by the way you were moaning.

“Fuck baby! I’m gonna c-,” three knocks interrupted your impending orgasm. What inconsiderate idiot needed you now?

Pausing the video, you pulled down your nightgown and cracked the door open. “Ransom?! What do you need?!”

“Ouch neighbor!” He smiled as he covered his heart. He tried to make his sniffing inconspicuous as possible, which wasn’t hard. Your sweetness carried over strongly. He could even see some of your inner thigh glistening. Yeah, he heard everything. Well, at least two minutes of everything. With the way you were responding he knew you were watching one of his videos. You had to be the newest subscriber leaving him tips on every video.

“I need cheese neighbor.”

Really?! Your orgasm got stopped for some freaking cheese. “The store is down the street!”

“Yeah, but you’re right downstairs and I’m freaking starving.”

“Fine!” You threw your hands up. “Provolone, right?”

He nodded his head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Like he was really gonna listen. Ransom silently cracked the door open some more and slid through. He silently laughed as your muttering. You weren’t discrete as you thought. He knew he was interrupting some very special self-care.

What entitled that self-care was a wonderful surprise. Ransom smiled at himself on the screen. He smiled even bigger at the wet spot on the couch. Guess he found his newest fan.

“Here.” The frantic rush you were caused you to be out of breath. You pushed the cheese into the air but Ransom wouldn’t grab it. Finally, you noticed he wasn’t where you left him. Dread filled you because he wasn’t in the kitchen with you earlier. “Ransom?!” You ran to the living room and found him looking at the tv screen. You ran in front of the tv with your arms stretched out like that would really stop him from seeing what he already saw. “Ransom!”

He laughed at your feeble attempt. “Too late sweetheart. This is much better than finding out Donna was a fan.”

Could God just take you right now? You covered your face up to hide from the embarrassment. “Okay get your jokes in and go home.”

Ransom removed your hands. “Baby,” he cupped your chin and bent down at eye level. “If you wanted this all you had to do was ask.” He kissed your pouty lips. Each peck you became more open.

He cupped your ass. “Tell me.” He sucked on your bottom lip.

“Tell you what?”

“Every. Single. Dirty. Thing. You. Want. Me. To. Do. To. You.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss down the column of your neck down to the he valley of your breasts.

No, you couldn’t do this. Why would someone as experienced as Ransom want someone like you? Novelty? The thrill of the chase? Not happening. “Nothing.” You whispered, too afraid to speak louder because a moan would come out.

Ransom smiled against your chest. “Didn’t sound like nothing.” His fingers slipped up your thighs, treating your wetness like a slip n slide. “Definitely didn’t feel like nothing.”

“I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m a, I’m a goo-,” His hands made your brain go haywire, you couldn’t even speak properly.

“A good girl?” He held your chin and softened his voice like yours, slightly mocking you. “Good girls don’t lie. Tell the truth. What do you want me to do to you?”

Turning away, you whispered the truth. “I want- I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder, princess.” He already was going to his knees and bunching up your dress. His breath teased your core.

Taking a glance over your shoulder, you saw the desire in Ransom’s eyes. It was like his videos, but this was stronger, more authentic and sincere. “I want you to fuck me.”

You caught Ransom’s hungry smirk before he went in for his meal. Your knees buckled and luckily for you the couch was right there. The rose was nothing compared to Ransom’s tongue. Then he seemed to find the remote while he was preoccupied with your clit. Not only did you have Ransom eating you out from behind, you had him in front of you, jacking off, detailing every single thing he wanted to do to you.

His tongue was wicked in more than one way. It could cut you down with words or by one simple flick in the right direction.

“Ransom!” That damn tongue of his just made you cum stronger than you did all day. “Fuck me, please fuck me. Please, please, please.” Your voice reached this whiny tone, that it’s never done before. You couldn’t even remember the last time you begged like this. It for sure wasn’t over dick.

“You want my cock, princess?” How could he be so intimidating and domineering while he was on HIS knees with your cum covering his face. The power this man holds is inexplicable.

Biting your lip, you nodded your head. The response must have sufficed because Ransom was shedding his clothes.

Social media did his body no justice. Instagram couldn’t prepare you for how the thin gold chain sat upon his tanned collar bone from his recent trip to Miami. OnlyFans couldn’t prepare you for his thick head leaking precum. Were you worthy to be in the presence of a body so godly?

“Hey,” Ransom gave you a soft kiss and smile. “I’m the lucky one.”

You scoffed. “Okay sex god.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you.” He knew with you, the words needed to be backed by the action.

Ransom proved to be softer, gentler than expected. He truly worshipped your body and all on a couch. You wonder what he could do on a bed. Nope. Don’t get on that line of thinking. This was a one time thing. Ransom was a conqueror, and you are the now the conquered. No more chase. No more need to come back.

You fought your inner thoughts and enjoyed the moment. Your hands raked his back. The only con fucking him for real was that you couldn’t watch his back muscles. That had to be the favorite part of his videos. Watching his shoulder blades contract, move smoothly as he fucked a woman, wishing you were that woman. Now you are that woman.

“My pretty princess.” Ransom kissed you. He couldn’t stop kissing you, he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you. There was the physical warmth of being inside of you, but there was another warmth being with you. It was basking in your aura. Whenever he was with you, he felt good and worthy.

His sweet words, his words of affirmations made you cum repeatedly. They rivaled his rough touches and hard stokes. Everything was so intense with him. It should be no surprise. Ransom was an intense person. Why should he be anything other than that?

He tilted your chin up. “Tell me I’m lucky.” He knew it, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“Huh?” Weren’t you the lucky one? You were fucking the pornstar, not the other way around.

“Tell me I’m lucky.” He nuzzled his face close to yours.

“You’re lucky.” Your moans reverberated in his ears.

He was near and he knew you were as well by the way you were thrashing underneath him. Ransom just needed to hear one more thing from you. “Tell me how fucking lucky I am to be fucking this pussy.”

Your nails made artwork on his back as you repeated his words. “You’re so fucking lucky to be fucking this pussy.”

Those powerful words and his strokes sent you two over the edge.

“Oh shit, Ransom.” You laughed and played with his hair. “That was fun.”

Ransom kissed you and regretfully pulled away from you. He walked to get a rag and you got to see that you truly did use his back as a scratching post. You even drew blood. “Sorry.” You whispered to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He kissed your inner thigh he just wiped. “Also, we’ll get to do this again after dinner.” He began redressing himself.

“Dinner?” You thought this was a fuck and dash. From your knowledge, Ransom didn’t do dates.

Ransom laughed at your face of confusion. “Yeah, the meal you eat in the evening. Maybe you forgotten because my family turns dinner into speculates. It should be a good first date though. A regular dinner not one with my family.” He smiled.

“First date?!” You sat up.

“Yes,” he kissed you. “I’ll be back in three hours. Can you be ready by then?”

You touched your lips and simply nodded your head yes.

Ransom smiled at your cuteness once more. “I’ll give you the aftercare you deserve later tonight. We can do that Ghostface scene that you were so generous to me tip me on.”

“Ransom!” You threw a pillow at him that never reached its target since he was on the other side of the door.

All you could hear was his laughter, all the while you couldn’t stop smiling. This felt like the start of a beautiful new journey.

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