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sylvie-writes · 4 years

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Petty Golfers

Warnings: Swearing, but what can you expect with a Ransom fic? Some cheesy, real bitchy moves. Bad depictions of golfing. Some suggestive material, but not rlly? Dad Ransom! There’s so much affection that I might have diabetes from all the fluff.

If you can’t tell, I suck at writing summaries and warnings. Please just take a leap of faith and read. It took me a week to write this and we are at a whopping 7k word count. So please leave some feedback, ik I sound desperate. Love y’all!

Summary: A trip to the country club with Ransom and his aristocratic friends goes south.

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!”

You were curled up on the sofa when Ransom’s phone rang, a picture of Mrs. Drysdale herself showing up. She rarely ever called, except to bitch at you or her son. Out of curiosity, you had answered the call, unknowingly becoming an victim to her demands.

“Get Ransom for me.”

“He’s on his way down.”

“Tell him to make it quick.”

Who the hell did she think she was? You rolled your eyes, annoyed at her demand. The phone that was once pressed against your ear, was now pulled away from your face.

“Ransom! Your mother is on the phone!”

A quick huff from your mouth made you regain composure, continuing your ‘conversation’ with the woman.

“Why did you answer my son’s phone, anyway.”

Linda’s tone was cold, just as when you had first met her. In the five years you had been with Ransom, not once had she shown you any form of kindness.

Sick of her impertinence, you shoved back a snarky remark.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, darling, but I’m dating your son! Actually I’m even engaged to him!”

Her end of the line was silent except for a loud scoff.

It was about time that Linda learned you weren’t some obedient dog, cowering down to her like Richard or Walt would.

“That’s my girl!”

Ransom, thank the heavens.

Turning your gaze to the stairs, you saw Ransom wearing a smirk, sauntering his way over.

The man bent down to kiss your lips before swiping his phone. You could practically imagine Linda’s screeching fit to her son and husband about what just happened. Clearly, it was actually happening as you heard Ransom nonchalantly reply, “That's not my problem.”

You took this time to get cleaned up and ready, seeing Ransom was currently occupied and would be for at least the next hour.

This was the first time you were gonna go golfing with Ransom and his friends. It was pretty obvious they were all gonna show up in Castore golf clothing, while you opted to wear a coral Columbia polo shirt and navy skort, caring less about the name of the brand and more about its versatility.

After applying some minimal makeup, you walked out from the bathroom to take a peek in the bedroom mirror.

The coral polo was neatly tucked into the navy skort, stopping mid-thigh. Taking your hands, you slowly smoothed out the shirt, stopping on your small baby bump. About 22 weeks in, and you were already in love with this child.

“Hi, little lemondrop. Oh goodness, are we gonna have a long day, honey.”

As you talked to your baby, Ransom quietly snuck into the room, smiling at how great of a mother you are already turning out to be. In his mind, he figured at least the child would have one good parent figure.

“Hey Sweetheart, sorry to interrupt, but I found you some golf shoes that should be comfortable.”

You looked up into the mirror to see Ransom behind you, with a big grin on his face and a pair of white golf shoes in his hand.

“Thanks, Ran.”

A bashful smile spread on your lips as you took the shoes. A part of you felt guilty for him getting you these shoes, but you knew he didn’t mind. Unfortunately, your feet and calves had already started swelling due to the pregnancy induced edema.

A quick trip to the bed, and you sat on the edge, struggling to get your shoes on, while Ransom was in the closet getting changed into his own golf attire.

Ransom confidently stepped out in all his glory, a navy polo and some light khaki shorts, that clung to his muscular physique. Your eyes were glued to him in awe and like the cocky asshole he is, a smirk grew on his face.

“Like what you see, Babe?”

“Oh shut up, Drysdale.”

You threw your shoe at him which he so expertfully caught. He gave a teasing smile and raised his hands in surrender before making his way to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Getting down on one knee, Ransom gently picked up your foot and put it in the shoe, tying the laces, but not too tight.

“Hmm, this feels vaguely familiar.”

Yup, Mr. Silver-Spoon Fed, was down on the ground, putting on your shoes. In his own words he’d only do the “Helps” part for you.

Once Ransom was done tying your shoe, he motioned to himself on his knee, trying to provoke the memory of when he proposed months ago.

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on his shoulder, and pecked his lips.

“I do.”

With a wink, you got up and left the room, also leaving Ransom on the floor, as he just chuckled to himself.

In all honesty you were dreading the day’s agenda. Ransom was taking you to the country club for a few holes of golf with his friends and their newest set of girlfriends.

Even though you had met Ransom’s friends and all, you could tell they had never liked you from the beginning. Eventually, with some work, Bently and Dylan warmed up to you. Without doubt, you understood why they were Ransom’s friends. They were exactly like him in every way, lifestyle and all.

In the years you had known the two men, Mallory and Samantha were the longest to stick around so far. Five months to be exact. This was an outstretched time of fidelity for the life-long playboys.

Maybe the men were trying to somewhat settle down like Ransom had.

The two women were standoffish from the start, always talking about things you never really cared about. Their lame attempt at trying to make you feel like an outsider was just straight-up annoying. When they did include you, it was a constant conversation about Ransom. You loved him and all, but if you were gonna be friends with these chicks, they might as well like you for you and not your fiance.

Out of all the ‘lady friends’ the guys had brought, Mallory and Samantha were total bitches in comparison to the rest. And no, you weren’t jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about these women. Life had given you a fair share of bullies back in your day.

This whole ordeal could be marked as the most uncomfortable thing you’ve done in your life.

Mallory and Samantha were anything but friendly, going on and on about a Versace fashion show, and some model, from last month. Inwardly you reminded yourself that you were doing this for Ransom, who was having the time of his life with Bentley and Dylan. How they could have this much fun golfing, was beyond you.

The three guys golfed while you three ladies stood watching and chatting. In a more accurate account, the three guys golfed while the two ladies stood watching and chatting about purposeless things in life, deliberately leaving you out.

Well, come to find out all along you really weren’t gonna play golf, you were just gonna watch. Yay, so exciting.

You would’ve played golf with the guys had Mallory and Samantha not opened their opinionated mouths and made the decision for you.

At this point Mallory and Samantha were now blabbering about some new type of leather purse and you really wished Ransom’s club would have hit your head at that moment. Anything to relieve you from having to hear their pathetic whining. The two women didn’t care to include you. Surprise, Surprise. Apparently, you weren’t good enough to be in their aristocratic circle.

What the hell was this, high school?

“So how are you doing, (y/n)?”

It was odd how Samantha was actually trying to engage in a conversation with you. You just hoped that maybe this was her olive branch. These were Ransom’s friends' significant others and you were gonna try your damndest to impress them, not really wanting to stir up any drama if it weren’t necessary.

“I’m doing pretty well, thanks for asking. How about you two?”

Now both women were fully turned to you, their attention no longer on the men, more so Ransom.

“Dylan and I are gonna take a trip to Europe, not exactly what I wanted, but good enough I guess.” Samantha rolled her eyes and heartily laughed along with Mallory.

Her simple statement made your eyes almost bug out of your head. It was like an expensive trip to Europe to her was just nothing more than a drive across the state line. You swallowed harshly in an attempt to figuratively stomach Samantha’s words. Ransom regularly offered those luxurious things to you, but as always, you turned them down, claiming he was just enough. It was very true, though. You didn’t have high standards which took Ransom some time to get used to. Most women he was ever with, wanted things, extortionate commodities.

You didn’t want to ruin your only chance at a somewhat blossoming friendship, so you trepidatiously giggled along with them.

“Oh honey, did you gain weight? I know a great personal trainer, really cute too, maybe not as cute as Ransom though.” Mallory’s perfectly manicured hand motioned towards your growing stomach.

You just stared in utter shock at what she just said. To most people that would be offensive but then you remembered the crowd you were with. Judgemental.

“Umm, no-well, uh, I’m expecting.”

Sheepishly, you looked down at your feet, now noticing the difference between your choice of shoes and theirs.

Samantha was wearing those white oasis Hermes sandals she had mentioned earlier, while Mallory was sporting some gaudy rockstud Valentino stilettos. Yeah, they definitely did not come here to golf.

“That’s why Ransom kept someone like you around!”

And that was definitely not the answer you were anticipating. If anything, you figured they’d be gushing over your pregnancy like any normal person would.

“Oh Sam!” You saw Mallory nudge Samantha who looked at her in shock, immediately stopping her obnoxious laughter.

A breath of relief left your mouth as you looked to smile at Mallory in gratitude.

“I should’ve known it would take a fake pregnancy to get him!”

“Yeah, he can’t have a bastard child running around, now can he? He would never get laid again!”

Your smile collapsed.

Samantha and Mallory grabbed each other’s hand, careful of their bubble-bath groomed nails, yet laughing so hard that they had to support each other.

The three men looked over in the direction of the women’s giggles and smiled, returning back to their game, completely unaware of the real situation.

Of course they didn’t see you, because your back was to them. If they had, your impression of a deer in headlights would have most certainly piqued their attention.

Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t even comprehend what you just heard.

Holy hell, they were just egging it on, weren’t they?

It was then that you realized Mallory wasn’t trying to stand up for you just a minute ago.

So apparently the two women weren’t trying to become your friends at all. You were just their little toy to ridicule.

“Aww hon, don’t get upset! We are just joking around.”

Samantha gripped your shoulder tightly and you gave a tight lipped smile, in an attempt to show that you weren’t hurt by their idiotic antics.

As Mallory and Samantha turned to continue to stare at the men, you saw them roll their eyes, for the nth time.

“Joking, my ass.”

You just stared daggers into their backs, slightly wishing the daggers were real. How dare they insult you by saying you were “faking” it? They could joke with you, but definitely not your baby.

The motherly instincts were already kicking in apparently.

“Hey girls, wanna try?”

Dylan waved his driver club in the air trying to get your attention. You were in such a trance, anything anyone said was just tuned out, that was till two arms wrapped around your waist.

The simple action made you jump out of your own skin, ready to strike whoever was behind you.

“Jumpy, much babe?”

When you turned to be met with Ransom’s grin, a wave of relief swept over your anxious body.

“Huh, yeah. Sorry I kinda zoned out.”

“I definitelyyyy couldn’t tell.”

Crossing your fingers, you had hoped that Ransom wouldn’t question your edgy tone that came out with the sentence.

Luckily, he didn’t notice and instead unwillingly dragged you over the teeing ground where the rest of the group was standing nearby.

“So, who wants to go first?”

Bentley spun on his heel to face the caddy and pulled out a gap wedge, handing it to Samantha who giddily volunteered herself first.

“I’m not really sure what position, I should be in.”

Samantha held the club, elbows bent, and performed a lazy test swing, striking the grass.

“Ransom, could you help me? After all, you are the one winning.”

Her flirtatious wink made you wanna vomit. You practically held back the gag, not wanting to cause another scene. Ransom’s water bottle was in the cart. Deciding you couldn’t watch anymore you walked to go get the water that seemed life saving at the moment.

“Ok, so first off you are gonna want to spread your legs a little.”

Samantha moved her hips suggestively as she got into the proper stance.

“Is this the correct position?

Ransom nodded, not catching her drift at all. The way she said “position” was absolutely flagrant.

As you turned from the cart and back to the group, you saw Samantha pushing her hips into Ransom, her Prada dress, lacy, white, and most of all short, slid up just a hunch.

“Oh, good god I’m gonna be sick.”

Briskly, you semi-jogged towards the country club, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention.

No one had noticed your disappearance as expected and just continued on with the game.

Of course, you came back just in time for Mallory’s turn, who was also getting coached by your fiance.

“Don’t get mad, don’t get mad.”

The navy skort you were wearing, had to take the hit as you clenched your fists tightly, balling up the smooth fabric.

Mallory swung the golf club clumsily, her arms way out of whack. You just grimaced, these women were supposed to know how to golf for goodness sake. After all, golfing was a sport for the rich, at least in Mallory’s own words.

“Oh Ransom. I think I might need your help. How do I swing again?”

Ransom politely nodded and strode away from his previous conversation. He situated himself behind Mallory, her back resting against his chest, his arms encasing around her sides. The golf club was positioned in between Mallory’s long legs and the two of them slightly bent at the hips, Ransom’s hands over hers as they slowly swung the golf club a few times.

It finally came time for Mallory to actually swing. She insisted that Ransom help her, and of course he did. As they swung their arms over their shoulders, Mallory twisted her head and kissed Ransom’s cheek. The ball teed off and Mallory thanked Ransom once more.

“Thanks for all your help, Ranny.”

Mallory then leaned in to hug Ransom tightly, smirking when she saw your belligerent attitude.

You swore to yourself that you were living a movie because my god, was this so fake. No one in their right mind would ever have the guts to accomplish anything that had happened so far today. Quite the lucky streak you have, if I might say so myself.

“You wanna go, Momma?” A teasing offer came from Bentley, one you wouldn’t pass up.

Confidently, you smirked and walked over to grab a pitching wedge from Ransom’s golf caddy.

You were really ready to knock these women off of their damn high horses, it was time they joined you all in the corral.

“Gladly.”

The straight up sarcasm that dripped from your sneer thoroughly confused Ransom.

Straightening his posture, he quickly walked over to help you tee off too.

Normally, you wouldn’t have minded Ransom’s help, but at this moment you were fuming, striking the ball on the tee with great vehemence.

Shamelessly flirting with Ransom, even when they knew you were right there. The deliberate actions of your so called friends really was the last straw. You could normally handle the level of pettiness Ransom’s friends propounded, but you couldn’t take it anymore. It all flowed through your blood and into your swing.

Ransom’s eyes widened when he saw how you hit with a perfect form, swing straight and all. Your ball even landed on the green, closer to the end, unlike the two women who landed on the rough, even with his help.

“Well looks like Ransom got a good start, now.” Dylan shook his head in disbelief as Ransom winked at you, a token of his appreciation. Unfortunately, you were only seeing red and completely missed his action of affection.

“That’s impossible!” Samantha had a look of repugnance on her face. Visibly upset that she wasn’t beating you in this game of cat and mouse, insult edition.

Mallory then discreetly flipped you off, the guys too busy packing up in order to move further down the course.

“I’m over this shit.” You walked away from the teeing ground and towards the swarm of people.

“You ready to move on ladies?” Bentley pointed towards the golf carts that were pretty much all packed up, except for the club in your hand.

“Sure!” Mallory’s overly peppy and fake voice was the last straw.

The two women started to walk away with the men, swaying their hips, every step taken with aplomb.

“No, you know what, Sam, Mal, who gives two shits about a Versace runway model standing three inches off center, because I sure as hell don’t.”

Bentley, Dylan and Ransom stood gaping with confusion at your sudden outburst. From their point of view, nothing extreme had gone down between you and the girls all day long.

You turned from the outraged women, disregarding their insults thrown your way and meeting the faces of the befuddled men.

“Sorry boys.”

“Oh and one more thing, girls. If you say one more shitty thing, so help me, I am gonna take Samantha’s Hermes heels and shove them so far up both your asses, you’ll be able to cough them up.”

You ever so gracefully returned Mallory’s kind gesture and flipped her and Samantha off.

In typical Ransom fashion, you turned away once more, basking in their shocked looks and ignoring their pitiful attempts at being the victims.

With that you handed Ransom the golf club which he gripped angrily, as you stormed off towards the women’s locker room. You could feel him practically burning holes into your back.

It was almost impossible to put in the combination to the lock for your eyes were welling up with tears. What made the whole thing worse was that Ransom didn’t even say a word, and he was angry at you?!

With a swipe of your hand, you wiped away the tears before grabbing your purse. You looked at Coach logo laughing when you thought of the Celine and Louis Vuitton purses Samantha and Mallory had.

When you had gotten to the country club, Ransom handed you the keys to the Beamer to put in your purse. His car was the only other thing he loved more than himself, you, and the baby. In reality, it was his first child.

Seeing the Beamer in the parking lot was like light at the end of the tunnel for you. Into the driver seat you plopped and the keys turned to the ignition. At the moment you could care less where you ended up, you just wanted to run for the hills and get far from here.

Sure, you were embarrassed, but you were more angry than anything else.

As you drove past the golf course you didn’t miss Ransom’s appalled look when he saw the Beamer leaving without him in it.

Back at the course, everyone stood around giving each other confused looks.

Dylan bravely broke the silence first.

“What just happened, man?”

Ransom just huffed and shook his head.

“No clue. Hormones probably.”

Samantha full on giggled while Mallory took the next step and grabbed Ransom’s bicep as she laughed.

“Thanks for making me laugh Ran, I really needed it after what just happened.”

Mallory looked up into Ransom’s deep blue eyes with her sparkling green ones and batted her long eyelashes at him seductively.

The clueless men took no mind in what was unfolding in front of them.

“Oh that’s right. Congrats dude!” Bentley supportively patted Ransom’s shoulder, before returning back to his own caddy at the cart.

Another shaky breath left Ransom’s mouth.

“Yeah, thanks.”

As Ransom headed back to the golf cart, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling inside.

What was it, you ask?

Concern.

He was concerned about (y/n).

A cloud of vexation and offense floated around in the car with you, that when you arrived at Harlan’s estate you had not even registered it quite yet.

The keys of the beamer were clenched tightly in your hand as you knocked, waiting patiently for Marta or Harlan himself to answer.

As the door swung open, it revealed a surprised and smiling Marta.

“Oh hi (y/n)!”

It was then that the weight of the prior events came crashing down on you and sobs were the only thing you could manage.

Marta quickly ushered you inside and enveloped you in a hug.

For the few minutes that passed, you had finally calmed down. Taking a deep breath you explained everything to Marta while she led you to the guest room you and Ransom normally stayed in.

“I’m so sorry for your terrible day, love. Why don’t you get cleaned up and you, Harlan and I can have some dinner?”

At the offer, you returned a small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless.

A hot shower would hopefully help clear your mind a bit. You padded over to the bathroom, starting the water and then returning to rummage through the wooden dresser. Thankfully, Ransom had left his maroon sweater and your leggings. Your first win of the day after a colossal shitstorm, maybe things were starting to look up.

The last thing on your mind at the moment was Ransom, who was supposed to be here with you. Just the mere thought of him, irked you.

When you returned from the long and much needed shower, you checked your phone.

Ten missed calls from Ransom Drysdale

Five text messages from Ransom Drysdale.

You just scoffed, turning off your phone. He definitely didn’t deserve an answer from you and you most certainly didn’t want to hear his lame-ass excuse. Was he even calling to apologize or was he calling to pester you?

Whatever.

The cell phone just rested on the bed, while you scurried downstairs to the smell of lasagna, tending to yourself with Ransom in the very back of your mind.

It had been about an hour since you left and Ransom couldn’t get in touch with you. Bentley and Dyaln had just left the table to get some more drinks at the bar, something Ransom clearly needed.

He called your phone once more, but to no avail, it went straight to voicemail.

Your sweet voice rang through his phone, oh how he wished you were here.

“This is (Y/n) Drysdale, I’m not here at the moment, please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day!”

Ransom felt a sense of pride that emerged when you used his last name as your own. Never in a thousand years had he assumed he’d ever be married, until you came along. You charmed him with your humbleness and patience for his antics. So many things about you were good for that man. Long gone were the days of shunning off a committed relationship with his pinky ring that now rested upon your index. A small diamond engagement ring, another symbol of Ransom’s love, made home on your ring finger too. You, a beautiful vision in white, walking down the aisle, and he can already imagine it.

An annoyingly squeaky voice broke him from his enchanting daydream of you as his wife.

“Oh Ranny, just give up.”

Long fingers wrapped around the glass flute, bringing it up to the red lips of the vanilla-blonde woman.

“Excuse me?”

Mallory moved her drink away from her lips, resting her hand on Ransom’s right forearm that laid on the table.

“Well it’s no use to get in touch with Betty and the bastard. She isn’t gonna answer, clearly, but I will.”

Now he could see why you were upset.

They must’ve said something to you. What was really surprising though is that you’d never take shit from anyone. Why would you cower down now?

He mentally scolded himself, that was a question to ask you later. First order of business was to give these two lovely ladies a taste of their own bitter medicine. Revenge was practically the man’s middle name, unfortunately.

Ransom couldn’t lose the only thing in life that mattered to him. You brought him light in the darkest of his days. Family get-togethers always put him in a terrible mood, but when you were linked into his arm with a bright smile, things seemed a little bit more bearable.

Who cared about the consequences at this point, Ransom madly grabbed the bellini and spilled it across Mallory’s black Dior button-down dress.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife and child like that.”

The two women cried in disgust, popping up from their seats, prompting Samantha to drag Mallory to the ladies’ room.

Bentley and Dylan came back to the table, cackling, three Malibu sunset cocktails in hand.

Ransom was practically seething at this point, his jaw clenched as tightly gripping the glass Dylan was handing him.

“Woah man, what’s up with you?”

“Your petty ass girlfriends, that’s what.”

Many drinks later, Ransom had finally finished his story, Bentley and Dylan not believing anything the brunette spoke about.

“You’re bullshitting us, Drysdale. Maybe we should take your drinking privileges.”

Ransom’s signature smirk curled onto his face as he found his evidence.

“Look over a few tables, fellas.”

There was Samantha, her tongue down some guy's throat, Mallory wearing the other man’s large polo.

“Shit, man!”

Dylan dropped his glass onto the table in complete shock. He had really just assumed that Ransom was drunkenly hallucinating.

“I’m not here to listen to both of your problems, now help me go win my wife back.”

Bentley and Dylan weren’t even phased by Ransom’s forwardness, for they were both too caught up in their own drunken sorrow.

“Why? Can’t you see I have plans tonight with some rum?” Bentley motioned to the bar before chugging his own drink down.

“She-” Ransom hung his head in shame. “She-took-my-beamer.” In one quick breath the man made his embarrassing confession.

“Fine, it’s only because I like your wife. She’s good for you ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get your drunk asses out of here.” All three men doubled over in cachinnation due to Ransom’s quip.

Like expected, Bentley and Dylan continued to tease Ransom before going off to get some water in hopes of sobering up, coming back with two women instead.

A small snicker left Ransom’s mouth. He could remember the days when that was him, but now was much happier and satisfied to always come home with you.

You were ecstatic to be greeted with Harlan’s large and welcoming smile. The man was basically your grandfather.

“Well there’s my favorite granddaughter and soon to be great-grandchild!”

“Hiya Harlan!”

Your crappy day suddenly brightened at the appearance of your favorite Thrombey.

“Something’s wrong isn’t it?”

Harlan rested his hands in yours offering a reassuring smile. You chose not to deny the correct accusation from the man, instead going to sit down with him and Marta, once again explaining the story.

“I just wish Ransom wasn’t mad at me.”

A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your growing stomach.

“My dear, if you tell him what you just told me, I am positive he would understand.”

“But I feel terrible for not being able to handle those girls. I mean he was having such a great time with his friends-.”

Harlan abruptly stopped you from spiraling into a depressive cloud.

“No buts, (y/n). Ransom’s friends are a crazy crowd of people, well, then again you have dealt with the rest of our family. Besides, Ransom’s friends deserved to be shown a bit of what you are made of. They need to understand that it’s not about the money or title, but the character within the person.”

You chuckled at Harlan’s exquisite speech.

“Wow, so this is why you are a best selling author?”

“I guess so, just remember (y/n), stay humble and who you are. Don’t change for Ransom or his friends because in the end that boy really needed a girl like you.”

A beautiful smile graced your lips at his encouraging words. Harlan always gave advice with much equanimity.

You finished the sapid and delectable lasagna with Harlan and Marta, often stopping to talk about the baby, who was to make an entrance in a few months.

After dinner was finished, you helped Fran clean up the dishes which she greatly appreciated. It was surprising to anyone that someone with your kind and caring personality would end up with a bonehead like Ransom. If only they all knew, Ransom was rarely ever an ass to you, occasions like these didn’t occur frequently.

By time you were done cleaning, Harlan had retired for the night, but not before playing a round of Go with Marta, who happily obliged and Fran gave you some clean sheets and then headed home herself. You were all alone now, only hoping when you’d see Ransom again. The two of you were both stubborn knuckleheads, who never wanted to surrender to the other.

Step after step, the wooden staircase creaked loudly as you slowly climbed to the second floor. Hand on the knob, you leaned against the bedroom door, tiredly pushing it open. A glance at your cell phone told you it was only a little after nine o’clock. It was an emotionally tolling day and you only wanted to curl up with your fiance, oh who are you kidding, your husband. Unfortunately, the closest thing you had to him at the moment was his maroon sweater, casing your body. All of this made the silk bed sheets even more comfortable, entrapping your exhausted body and lulling you to sleep.

Shooting up from your slumber, you made sure your phone was not on silent, just in case Ransom called again. Content, a void of darkness littered your sight, and you were out like a light.

RING!

The loud ringing emitting from your phone startled you, making your head shoot up from the pillows.

Bentley Livingstone

The bright light from the screen awoke you fully. Squinting to look at the time, you scoffed.

10:14 pm

“What the hell, Bentley.” Your voice raspy from sleep, it was evident that he had woken you.

“Sorry Momma Bear, but can you let us in?”

“Us? And if you are at the house, I’m not there, Benny boy.”

The last thing you wanted now was to be talking to him, you practically ripped apart his girlfriend, who he was actually committed too for once. You felt awful for ruining Ransom’s day with his friends, but quickly reminded yourself that those women were even worse to you. The men probably thought you were a total bitch, after their girlfriends had played the victims.

“Cut out the sarcasm, will ya? I’m not mad at you, and actually I’m here at Harlan’s.”

You felt so relieved that you could almost cry, damn hormones.

Bentley must’ve known something had happened which meant Dylan knew and hopefully Ransom too.

“Fine.”

You went to the bathroom to hurriedly tame your messy hair and brush your teeth, ridding the final taste of lasagna away.

Harlan was asleep and Marta had left by this time, so as you opened the front door, you made sure to make it as quiet as possible.

“Hi (y/n).” Bentley was the first to walk in, giving you a hug which shocked you before reciprocating the action. Dylan did the same and you were bemused at the men’s kindness.

“So… what’s up.” Nervously, you crossed your arms over your chest, resting them on your small, yet protruding bump, all while awaiting an answer.

“We’d like to apologize on behalf of Samantha and Mallory.” Dylan stepped forward, placing his hand comfortingly on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry guys. I didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

“Hey don’t be sorry! I’m glad I found out Sam was in it for your hottie.”

“Yeah. I’ve dated plenty of women but not anyone that cold.”

“Thanks, guys.” You looked up to be greeted with their bright smiles. It was nice to be so trusted.

“Dude, those babes said they were free tonight.” Dylan held out his phone to text said woman, Bentley doing the same.

Without second thought, you quickly put your hand between the two men, still having a very animated conversation.

“As much as I’d love to hear you guys babble over some girls, do either of you know where Ransom is?”

“He’s right here.”

A very familiar voice sounded from behind you.

There he was. Your hormones were through the roof and you couldn’t stop the happy tears that fell.

You ran to your fiance, throwing your arms around his neck, while his one free hand wrapped around your waist. Ransom placed a sweet kiss on your neck, laying his head there for a while, relishing in your love. How could he be so deserving of someone with such patience?

Too caught up in the moment, you didn’t even notice Dylan and Bentley sneaking out the front door.

Ransom held out a bountiful bouquet of exquisite light pink roses. With his free hand, he took both of yours, placing a few kisses to your knuckles.

Turning your hands over, Ransom kissed your wrists and then handed you the bouquet. You couldn’t help but giggle at all his affection.

“Pink roses, for you and our baby girl. I owe you both an apology.” Like a scolded puppy, he held his head in shame.

“I owe you an apology too-”

Your fiance’s index finger came up to shush you.

“No you don’t, I do.”

Ransom took your left hand, your ringed fingers intertwined with his now bare ones and led you up to the bedroom.

You went to go flump on the bed, observing as Ransom shut the door, and wordlessly sat next to you.

“I’m sorry that I, of all people, upset you. I should have been there for you, but I wasn’t.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, full of remorse. Truth be told, you had never seen Ransom like this. Taking your left hand, you lifted his chin gently, the cold metal of the rings somewhat startling, making Ransom turn his solemn face to look at you.

“How did you know?” Gazing into his gorgeous and endless eyes, you saw his sorrow, a large pang to your heart.

“Well, both girls tried to make a move on me. Mallory called our little lemondrop,” Ransom took a deep breath, saying the next word like it was gonna summon the devil himself, “a bastard.”

You were so desensitized at this point, you just accepted the vile words. There was no use in letting their locutions affect you, because if they did, you’d be letting them win.

“Yeah, they both kinda said that to my face too.” In hopes of lifting the mood, you let out a dry chuckle to let Ransom know that you were somewhat okay. Especially, that he was here, next to you.

“You girls were laughing and everything, I truly thought you were having a good time. I am so sorry, Sweetheart.”

Ransom was so upset, he buried his face into your chest, while you slowly and soothingly rubbed his back. Instead of telling him about your other banters with the women, you just kept your mouth shut. The poor thing was already so unsettled, you didn’t want to make matters worse for him.

It seemed like an eternity that Ransom was in your loving hold. His sobs were quieted and he examined your look of content. First, he softly pecked the corner of your lips then placed his warm hands on the small bump of your baby.

“Hi little miss, I owe you an apology too. Today I was not a great father at all. You and your mom will always mean the world to me. I can’t wait to meet you, honey.”

Ransom ended his heartfelt confession with a slow kiss to the unborn baby, that even you could feel through the sweater, making your heart flutter. For many months, Ransom worried about being a terrible father. Well, if what he just said didn’t prove that he was gonna be a great father, then you don't know what would.

Your hands flew up to your fiance’s face, once again holding him close, so close that your noses bumped. Both of your eyes were closed in bliss, that was until Ransom quietly spoke up.

“The beamer’s fine right?”

Believe it or not, but sometimes Ransom could be a comedian around those he cared about. A few giggles left your mouth as you pulled away from the man who was also laughing himself.

“I-I’m...serious, babe!” It took a few tries for Ransom to get the sentence out without cackling. For years it had been a running joke that Mr. Drysdale loved his car more than himself which was quite the revelation, if you ever heard one.

Getting up from the bed, you leaned down to kiss between Ransom’s eyebrows that were knitted with concern.

“Yes, your other child is fine.”

“So now that the air is clear, are you hungry?”

Don’t judge, just because you may have eaten lasagna just a while ago, didn’t mean you’d pass the golden opportunity for more food. You eagerly nodded your head before sitting on Ransom’s knee. His arms were wrapped around you in a protective manner, while his hands held the phone with the menu on screen.

“Ran, what Chinese place is gonna be open this late?”

“Trust me, I know this place.”

Half an hour later, a man showed up on the doorstep holding a plastic bag hopefully filled with your late night smorgasbord. To your surprise, the bag was actually filled with all its content which needless to say didn’t last long. Between your endless stomach and Ransom’s growing hangover, the greasy meal trays were soon empty. You and Ransom had taken the food up to the bedroom, devouring it all, while laying on the bed enjoying the time together.

Even when things were rough, you and Ransom always found a way to get through.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x you

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