nifolution

[nifolution]

So many fics, so little free time, and even less motivation.

I keep trying, but my wips have declared war on my brain and it is holding up all productions.

[nifolution]

Letters 6

Warnings: Heartbreak, Angst, Manipulation, lies, threats, arguments, mention of pregnancy/getting pregnant, allusion of smut

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. Steve was rescued from the Valkyrie crash. He became a world hero and came back home with Peggy to start his life. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. Reminder that chapter 5 & 6 have been reconfigured.

Chapter 5  Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

Peggy was not a simpleminded woman, she saw Steve sneak out in the dead of night. Phoning an associate, twelve hours later she got the answer to her husband’s whereabouts. The bastard had been playing house with his old flame. He left her bed to warm someone else’s, and according to the information in front of her, it had been going on for some time now.

She would not stand for this embarrassment, Steve needed to remember his place. He was no longer the pitiful thing he was before the serum. So sickly that if he were a pet, they would have drowned him. Captain America was the embodiment of perfection, and belonged to her. Clearly his mind had forgotten that and slipped into bad habits. She would put an end to it.

After verifying Steve’s location well outside the vicinity, Peggy arrived at his paramour’s residence. She refused to be made a fool of by some low class floozy. After successfully charming the landlord, she made her way up to her destination. Three knocks and she came face to face with the woman occupying her husband’s time.

Y/N didn’t know what she expected when she answered the door, but it wasn’t Mrs. Captain America. Nothing good could come out of Steve’s wife at her apartment. “Can I help you?” She ignored the dread that prickled up her spine.

“I see by the look on your face, that you know who I am.” Peggy smiled when the other woman nodded. “I would like to have a chat, woman to woman.”

She noticed how Peggy looked at her as if she was something she stepped in. Y/N’s anger simmered below the surface, she’d seize this opportunity to confront her uninvited guest. This spiteful, entitled, British lunatic doesn’t get to screw with her life and not expect her to fight back. “Please come in.”

Peggy sat down at the small table and asked for a cup of tea. While the other woman obliged, she looked around the tiny home with distaste, humming to herself, “Not very cohesive is it.”

Y/N returned to the table carrying the requested beverage, mentally preparing herself to have it out with this woman. As she set the tea tray down, her blood froze. Peggy was right where she left her, poised and proper, not a hair out of place, like she jumped out of a magazine… if not for the pistol casually sitting on the table.

The corner of Peggy’s mouth turned up at the clear fright in the other woman's eyes over the small firearm. “Milk and two sugars, please.”

Y/N surprised herself when her voice didn’t shake, “I do not have any milk.”

Her red lips pursed, “I suppose this will have to do then.” Peggy flashed a fake smile, taking her cup and placing it in front of her. She had no intention of imbibing whichever subpar tea was being served. “I’ll get straight to the point. I’m here to discuss my husband spending so much time with you, instead of where he belongs.”

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off the weapon, sure she was about to breathe her last. “Steve has been a good friend to me. He’s been trying to help me out.”

“I’m sure he has. However, I must insist that whatever fun you two have been having come to an end. He should be at home with me, we are having a baby after all.” Peggy sighed, a dreamy look on her face as she held her flat stomach.

Her demeanor changes once again, looking Y/N up and down with contempt, “I admit, I've been working a bit much as of late, yet I do not see the appeal. You must be very easy for him to have turned to you.” She smoothed down an nonexistent wrinkle in her skirt, then turned her dark gaze back to the other woman. “He is mine. He will never be yours. I'm all he needs. I am his love, his best friend, his home, his safety, his WIFE. You are just a hole he uses to pass the time.”

Shocked by the language and accusation, Y/N stuttered, “No we ha- haven't. I w-wouldn’t…”

Peggy held up her hand, “I do not wish to hear your excuses. Imagine if a reporter caught wind of your inappropriate relationship. His reputation would be tarnished, and you, dearie, would be ruined… You will stop seeing my husband immediately lest the consequences be swift and severe.” She placed her perfectly polished fingers on the gun, angling it toward Y/N. “Do we have an understanding?”

Y/N could only nod, terrified of the unspoken threat. She’d die, and be forever shamed as Captain America’s mistress. As the woman that came between America's perfect couple. The homewrecker, the whore. If she managed to survive, she’d lose her job and her home. Her family would disown her. She’d have nothing after such a scandal. Living on the street or dead in a box.

“Marvelous.” Peggy stood, placing the pistol back in her purse. “Oh, and I wouldn't mention a word of this friendly conversation to Steve. Stress isn't good for the baby.” She took one last look at Y/N, shaking her head. “You really are a weak thing. I do not see the appeal at all.” She closed the apartment door behind her and waited. Smiling at the sound of Y/N sobbing, she left, satisfied her first objective was completed.

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

Humming to herself, Peggy slipped into her best lingerie and matching robe. Admiring her image in the mirror as she let her hair down and applied her favorite shade of red lipstick that she knew drove her husband wild. The perfect trap.

Like all men, she knew Steve would step out of line from time to time. It was their nature. Men needed constant guidance. Could not be relied on to make correct decisions on their own. It made it all the more important to put Steve back in his place. He had been more resistant than expected. She needed to use her ace in the hole; allowing Steve to impregnate her.

It would not derail her career. She dared them to try to push her out of her position. Peggy knew she could do both successfully. A few months of desk work through the pregnancy, then hire a nanny and everything would work itself out. What was important was getting her husband on board with her agency and remaking the world in the name of the greater good. He would learn to see things her way. A child would ensure his cooperation. Hearing Steve’s car pull up, Peggy poured two glasses of champagne and waited.

Steve walked into his house, head hung low. Far too much on his mind. It had been two days since he last spoke with Y/N. Her request for space was killing him. He left her apartment on friendly terms, but it still felt like he was losing her. He couldn't go through that again. Steve wanted to respect her boundaries, but he missed her too much. That hollow spot inside him ached, the one created when he thought she left him for another man. He needed her. It all felt wrong. This didn't feel like coming home. It felt like hiding.

"Welcome home, Captain."

He looked up to a sight that would have once felt like it jumped out of his fantasies. Peggy in a robe that covered very little. Her come hither eyes trained on him as each slow and sensual step brought her closer. He couldn’t help but stare, accepting the glass she handed him without question.

Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to spill her drink. She gazed into his eyes, smiling seductively as she spoke, “I’ve missed you terribly.” The words were innocent, but the tone sounded like 'take me now.' Leaning in, Peggy placed a teasing kiss on her husband's lips. A taste of what was to come.

Steve was momentarily stunned. "I um…I- I need to tell you something." He gently removed her arms, escorting her to the couch to sit beside him. There were many things he wanted to say to her, but was finding it difficult to start. So he picked the first topic that came to mind. Told her how he wanted to retire, put down the shield. Captain America was done.

She chuckled with feigned amusement, "You are being ridiculous. You're nothing if you're not Captain America... These last weeks have made you cranky and irrational, my poor dear. Let me make it better." Slowly opening her robe to expose what was underneath, she watched his eyes slightly dilate. "I was wrong, Steve. I want to have a baby now. I love you and I know you love me. Waiting seems silly. Can you picture it, a little boy playing ball in the yard, a little girl with her dollies. Our perfect family. Do you see it, darling?"

His breath caught when Peggy pushed herself against him, bosoms barely contained by thin lace. The smell of her perfume and her soft skin hypnotizing. Her hands cupped his face, pulling him into an unwanted kiss. He pulled away, “I'm not in the mood, Peg.”

“I’ll make you feel so good,” Peggy began kissing up the side of Steve’s neck while her left hand rubbed him through his pants, “you’ll forget all your troubles.” Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “I'll even use my mouth like on our honeymoon.” Resting her head on his chest, Peggy grasped his manhood through the fabric smiling as he began to swell. “I know we’ve hit a little snag in our marriage, but that happens to every couple. Come on, Captain, your wife needs you.”

Swallowing hard, Steve stopped Peggy by holding her hand in his. He had to live with his choices. That was his ring on her finger. Did he still love Peggy? He wasn’t sure. Thinking too hard about it made his stomach churn. She was still his wife, but he could never trust her again. Everything out of her mouth seemed to be a lie. She tricked him, pursued him, used him. However, he basked in the attention, reciprocated her advances and forced himself to forget Y/N. Maybe he deserved this, a life under Peggy's thumb. He had to make this work.

Peggy used their entwined hands to pull her husband to their bedroom. She knew he couldn't resist her. He would always be a puppet and she knew just how to pull his strings.

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

Steve sat in his high back chair, sipping his drink, trying to quiet the voices in his head. The pleasure Peggy provided fixed nothing. In fact he felt worse. A touch once longed for, now made his skin crawl. This is not what he wanted. The love he once held for Peggy was gone, forever tainted by her actions, but he was stuck. So even though he couldn't get drunk, he let the burn of the alcohol distract him. Lamenting that no matter how much he consumed, he would never be granted numbness from these feelings. His Ma would be ashamed.

Downing the last of his glass, he poured himself another. Wishing his best friend was still around for him to confide in. Steve laughed, knowing Bucky would swipe the whiskey from his hand, tell him to stop being a punk and do something, then finish the drink himself. Maybe give him a swift kick in the ass to get him moving faster. And he’d be right. Steve couldn't undo the past, but he could change things starting now.

In the bedroom sat Peggy, scowling. “How dare he?” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, positively fuming. She degraded herself playing the whore for him and he couldn't finish. His mind clearly elsewhere.

She didn’t like this at all, she was losing control over him. Peggy had enough of the back and forth, he needed to move out of New York with her and join SHIELD, end of story. If that homewrecking hussy interfered she would squash her like the measly insect she was. Her husband would be none the wiser, accidents could be arranged. They had no idea what she was capable of.

Steve flew into the bedroom with his overnight bag in hand. Paying no mind to the woman on the bed, he began stuffing clothing and personal items into it. He had to leave and didn't want Peggy clouding his judgment. She put enough ideas in his head as it was. He wasn't going to let her control him anymore.

Peggy pushed up her breasts, prepared to continue. “Come back to bed, love.” It sounded more like a demand than a request. “We must try again. Proper insemination is required for procreation.”

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Steve turned to his preening wife. He saw her now, could peer through her illusion to the darkness and rot within. Disgusted with himself, he never wanted to touch her again. “I need to go.”

She responded with a sardonic laugh. Here she was giving him everything he wanted and that insolent man had the nerve to deny her. “I’m sorry, no. You are not going anywhere. I forbid it.”

Defying her orders, Steve walked out of their room and into the bathroom. Peggy followed at his heels. She was determined, he'd give her that. Determined and heartless. He continued to ignore her.

“You will do as I say!” Losing all composure, she shoved him with all her might, but to no avail. He continued putting items into his bag. She pushed hard at his cheek to force him to face her. “I am Captain America's wife. What good are you to me without the moniker? Without that you are worthless.” Each word punctuated by her finger stabbing into his chest.

“I have NEVER been worthless.” Finished, Steve closed the bag and headed to the front door.

Peggy ran after him. “Where do you think you are going, you ungrateful bastard!? To that waitress’ home? Your lover that cowers at the sight of a tiny firearm.”

That got a reaction. He froze in his tracks. Lifting her chin, her lips twisted into a sinister smirk, “Didn’t think I knew? You were not exactly discreet.”

Steve should have known she was still spying on him. Another one of her lies. Through clenched teeth he growled, "What did you do?”

“Only what I had to.” Peggy half shrugged, “No harm has come to her.” The silent ‘yet’ hung in the air. She attempted to take the bag out of his hand, but his grip only tightened.

She looked up at him through her lashes. “Steve, my sweet husband, we have a beautiful life together, don't spoil it. Don't disrespect everything we've built together. We were made for each other. We can get past this little hiccup.”

Placing a tentative hand on his arm, Peggy spoke with a soft voice, “I can understand your confusion, darling, and I forgive you. You run into an ex-lover and old feelings resurface, but that is all they are. Old. Dead. Feelings. Only memories. You would do well to pay them no mind.”

“We are only apart because of you.”

Peggy rubbed her brow, “Always so melodramatic. You are apart because you’re not a match. WE ARE. I believed you were bright enough to figure that out. That's why you married me. We're perfect together… Remember our vows, Steve. Remember your duties to me and your country. You were made for big things. Much too great for some lowly waitress with dirt under her fingernails. She could never run in our social circles…”

Steve interrupted, taking a step back, “Your circles, your friends.” 

Stomping her foot, she screamed, “I won't be a party to your childish fantasies... You need to calm down and forget this squabble. Bury the past and appreciate what we have now.” Peggy held out her hand for him to take, “Come back to bed.”

He stared at the appendage as if it was a snake waiting to strike. 

“I will not tolerate this behavior any longer. I allowed it before, knowing you needed to let off steam, but no longer. This ends now. Know your place.”

“I do.” Steve walked out the front door, and out of her life for good.

Chapter 7 (coming soon)

[nifolution]

Love Me Forever

Pairing: Jake Jensen / Plus Size Reader

Summary: A brief look into what Jake and his Angel are up to.

Warnings: fluff, hits of sexy time

A/N: This is a sequel to Love Me Again. Takes place about two years in the future.  This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Love Me Again     Main Masterlist

Y/N sat propped up on their bed, her legs bent up. Clad in only a bra and her lover’s eyepatch, faintly smelling like pink starbursts, cherishing the perfect moment. The fear of losing this again lived in the back of her mind. Her soulmate came back to her, she refused to take a single day for granted.

It took a long time for them to get back to this place. Rebuilding what they used to have brick by brick until their foundation was solid once more. She fell in love with him every day. With every bad joke, every laugh, every kiss. He never stopped showing that he belonged to her, and she to him.

Jake wore his favorite pirate hat and Lord of the Rings boxers. Contently cuddling his angel’s legs, placing lazy kisses on her knees, soaking up the postcoital bliss. She stroked his arm and back, making him purr. Most days he couldn’t believe his angel was real. Thankful for each day she chose him. There was no one more perfect in his eyes. He prayed he would never lose her again.

They had just finished celebrating the addition of the Sword of Omens to their weapons wall. After a brief debate on where it looked the best, they decided it fit between Excalibur and the Bat’leth. Their house décor was a geek's dream. The real deal items however, had to be hidden. Of course there were several secret passages built into the home. Y/N’s lab where she worked on her drones and Jake’s equipment had to be kept safe.

Parting her legs, he moved between them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He has her full attention. On all fours, he growled like a tiger while stalking up her body. Once nose to nose, he pulled back, wiggling his eyebrows. His right hand disappeared under the pillow next to her, fiddling with something she couldn’t see.

“Ta da!” Jake pulled his hand out, now wearing three finger puppets. 

“Are those rats?”

He tsksd at her, “Opossums my dear, America's only marsupial. Have some respect.” Shimmying lower, he half rested on her belly, making himself comfortable.

Using her as a stage, he began to dance them across her stomach as she watched with amusement.

“Look, it’s a remake of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. BUT they forgot, smell no evil?” Jake loudly sniffed the air. “There's evil afoot.” 

He continued to sniff all over Y/N, tickling her. Reaching her neck, he narrowed his eyes at her. Taking a large whiff and a small lick, he moved away. Lips pursed in suspicion, “Hmm, semi evil.”

“Mwahahaha.” A fourth puppet popped up on the index finger of his left hand.

“Villain! ATTACK!” A great battle raged across her chest and torso. “Pew pew… Kapow… Ahhh… Take that… Bang… You’ll never take me alive… Pow… Thwack.” Jake made the fighting noises to a soundtrack of her giggles.

“Oh nooooooo… Save me. Save me.” The evil opossum fell dramatically into her cleavage.

Jake glanced up, eyes wide in alarm, “He fell in a booby trap.”

Shaking with laughter, Y/N pressed her hands into her aching cheeks.

His voice took on a somber tone, “Sadly, there was no escape for the scoundrel. It was a slow death, but hey, what a way to go.”

“Now the good news is, the survivors of the war for Mount Gazongas turned their lives around. Yes, indeed. They became an overnight sensation as the next big music group, Nocturnal Melody. Their cute noses and prehensile tails stole the hearts of the world.”

Sounding like a deranged mickey mouse, the puppets began singing, “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. Bung, bung, bung, bung…”

The puppets covered her face for their finale. Once Jake’s hand passed over, Y/N’s eyes popped back open, greeted with his bright smile.

“Ah, my wish came true.” He softly kissed her waiting lips. “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you more.”

Jake shook his head, “Mm.”

She quirked her eyebrow in challenge, “Mmhm."

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kissing her again, he chuckled, “The love war continues.”

She smiled into the kiss, “Never-ending.”

A finger possum inserted himself into the conversation. His high squeaky voice inquiring, “What about meeee? Do you love meeeee?”

Y/N grimaced, “Not so much.”

Gasping, Jake pulled the puppet away protectively. “How could you not love him? Poor Mr. Trashcan. Look at that face. Don't you want to keep him forever?”

“Sorry, one horny animal in this bed is enough.”

He took her hand, kissing it. The air around them seemed to shift. He whispered into her flesh, “Do you want me forever?”

“Of course I do.” She tried to break the tension with a joke, “Wait, you're house trained, aren't you?” Seeing the serious look on his face, she stopped. He doesn't wear one of those often.

“You really are my dream girl. I couldn't have imagined someone that matches me so perfectly. You are so funny and smart and sexy and thoughtful. You're creative and kind, beautiful and sweet and a blast to be around. A great friend, coworker, partner and all around badass. You understand me like no one else ever has, or will. Each day with you is the best day of my life.”

Choked up, her eyes watering, Y/N was at a loss for words.

Flashing a lopsided grin, he nervously continued, “I was originally going to make a huge spectacle, but after everything that’s happened, and how fucking amazing you are for still being with me, I didn’t want to push my luck. So I'm keeping it small, just us, and hoping with all my heart that this goes my way.”

Furrowing her brows, she searched his eyes for answers.

Jake leaned back, going onto his knees. Pulling off two finger opossums, he threw them over his shoulder. As he pulled off the last one, there was a quick glimmer and a sound of something falling in the puppet.

“Shit.” Jake shook it, trying to dislodge the item, but it wouldn’t budge. He huffed, “This is not going to plan at all.”

Peeking up into the offending puppet, he used his pinky to dig it out. “Ah ha.”

Y/N sat up straight, ripping off the eyepatch. Pinched between his fingers was a diamond ring. “Jakey?”

Jake smiled at her, assuring her this was real. “My Angel, you are everything to me and I never ever EVER want to lose you again. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

She met his eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Fuck yes!” She shouted, grabbing his face and kissing him eagerly. When his hat fell off, she picked it up, putting it back on his head. 

“You really want to spend the rest of your life with me, Jackey?”

Shaking his head, Jake took off his hat, placing it on her head. “Not long enough. You better believe I'm going to haunt your ass. And when you meet me in the afterlife, we’ll spend eternity as a fearsome ghost couple. I got places picked out we can haunt.” He slid the ring onto her finger, “We'll be legendary.”

She squeezed his hand, “Promise?”

“Promise. You got me forever, Angel.” Jake moved next to her, pulling her to him to lay down. Adjusting the covers over them, he held her to his chest and kissed her hair.

Angling her head, she kissed him properly. Murmuring, “Love you, love you, love you.”

Returning her head to rest on him, Y/N wiggled uncomfortably, a funny look on her face. She reached into her bra, pulling out the villainous puppet.

The couple erupted in a fit of laughter.

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

[nifolution]

As usual, the ofc version will be posted first and the reader insert version will follow a few days after.

I have finally picked Letters back up. After tumblr messed up that last chapter, I had a hard time recovering the will to continue it. (I never counted on tumblr draft again after that happened.) I moved the entire story to a doc, and have been working on it these last few days.

I made a some changes to the last chapters: Chapter 5 is now divided, making chapter 6 consisting of the original end to chapter 5 AND the original beginning to chapter 6. (It read better that way to me now with the rewrite. )

There is now a 7th chapter that should be the last one. I am doing the final edit of chapter 6, but still writing chapter 7. So it may or may not stretch to 8 chapters. I'm not sure yet. So I hope to have 6 out very soon.

[nifolution]

The ofc version of the Love Me Again sequel is posted. The reader insert version will be posed in a few days.

[nifolution]

I Quit 7

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, being drugged, undressed and tied up, name calling, threats

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 6 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“I’m uncertain what exactly you are asking of me.” Harlan picked at the cuff of his shirt, awaiting his grandson’s explanation.

Two days ago, a pipe burst ‘unexpectedly,’ flooding Ransom's home. In lieu of a hotel, he decided to stay at the mansion while repairs were being made. Meanwhile, his relatives were getting ready for a week-long ski trip in the Berkshire Mountains to celebrate his mom’s birthday. The conditions were looking favorable. Hell, his father was so certain that everyone would be busy having fun, that he already paid for his current mistress to meet him there.

As tempting as causing some mayhem with his family and bedding a few snow bunnies sounded, his focus was solely on the seemingly unattainable chef. He had stolen a taste and craved more. It was time to switch tactics, no more messing around. He would get what he wanted.

When Ransom informed his mother he couldn’t go, claiming his recent hardship had caused him to come down with a cold, Linda sucked her teeth, told him he was acting like a baby and put the back of her hand to his forehead. A brief look of remorse crossed her face before declaring he clearly couldn't go in this shape. She then screamed for Fran, demanding hand sanitizer.

He could barely suppress his devious grin. Keeping up the act was easy. A heating pad to get his head burning hot, making sure to appear completely worn down and in pain. He’d pretend to blow his nose, stuff balled up pieces of tissue up his nostrils to sound congested. Force out a few coughs, wiggle his tongue on the roof of his mouth to trigger a sneeze. He had looking sick down to a science.

Ransom coughed into his fist. “You’re still paying her, you should have her cook for me in your absence. All that sumptuous food will surely help nurse me back to health. Plus I'll be here to watch over the place.”

“Please consider it. I’m too weak to even make my own toast. It's bad enough I'm missing the trip, don't let me starve.”

Harlan was skeptical, well versed in his grandson’s antics. Refusing to be swayed by the young man’s act of malaise. While true that he planned to allow Y/N to spend the week off with pay, he had not informed her of the decision. Ransom’s pleas to not be deprived of her luscious creations were entertaining. He wondered what he was up to.

After some back and forth, they compromised. Y/N would be paid for the entire week, but only be required to come in for a single day to prepare a few meals for Ransom to reheat.

Ransom nodded in agreement, already having visions of taking her under the wheel of knives. “That’s all I need.”

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

Y/N walked into the manor unsure why it gave her a bad feeling. Shaking it off, she convinced herself it was because the house was empty except for major asshole sick upstairs. She probably wouldn’t have to see him at all today. Just cook a week of meals and get the hell out of here. She hoped whatever was wrong with him made him miserable.

Making her usual pot of coffee, she got started.

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

“Wakey wakey.”

Y/N groaned as she attempted to open her eyes. The jarring light made her quickly squeeze them shut again. She turned her head into the pillow. The dull throbbing in her brain not giving her any incentive to try to get up.

“There she is. I was almost afraid I gave you too much. That would have been unfortunate.”

Ughhhh, why the hell is he here? Of course he’d show up when I already feel like shit.

Feeling too groggy to deal with him immediately, Y/N began to stretch, preparing herself to beat his ass. Something pulled painfully at her left wrist, not allowing her arm to move. Opening her eyes, she could make out the shiny metal binding her to the bed.

“What the fuck?” Y/N tugged at the handcuff, willing it to release her. Confused and pissed off, she searched for Ransom. Even with her vision blurry around the edges, she could tell this was not her room.

She followed the sound of his wicked chuckle until his blue sweater came into view. He stalked around the large bed, amused at her current predicament.

“Let me go, asshole!”

A chill came over her as he passed. Looking down, she was alarmed to find herself without a stitch of clothing on. Y/N clamped her legs shut, throwing her free arm over her breasts.

This can NOT be happening. I’m going to fucking kill him.

Ransom’s handsome cocky face appeared above her, unabashedly devouring her with his eyes. “I don't think I will. I went through a lot of trouble to get you here, good thing you still need that morning caffeine fix.”

“You drugged my coffee, you fucking psycho?”

He shrugged, “Guilty as charged.”

Disappearing for a moment, he returned, holding a glass to her lips. “You’re gonna need this.” Noticing her hesitation, he swore it was just water. Satisfied as she cautiously sipped it.

When she finished, he set down the glass and climbed onto the bed. Running his fingertips down her side making her squirm. “I prefer you like this. No knives, no boiling pots, just you and me.” His eyes darkened with promise, “And I'm looking at the only thing I want to eat.”

Y/N wanted to tear his eyes out. She tried to slap his hand away without exposing too much of herself, “Get your perverted hands off me, undo these cuffs and give me back my clothes. NOW!”

“Your anger is a real turn on.” He smirked, running his thumb over her bottom lip, “Let this be a lesson to you…”

“I always get what I want.”

Ransom pulled her arm away from her chest, biting at her inner wrist. He crawled on top of Y/N, pinning her arm next to her head. Effectively caging her with his body, he placed soft kisses to her neck, quickly turning ravenous.

She didn’t want to be feeling these things. Y/N’s stomach fluttered and her heart beat faster. Words failed her, lost in the sensations his greedy mouth provided. She did her best to show no reaction, but the goosebumps on her skin and her quickened breaths betrayed her. The effect of his touch was undeniable.

Taking his time to reacquaint himself with her breasts, his wandering fingers glided over her nipples. Moving his kisses down between her tits, as his hands caressed them. Lifting his head, he blew air across her nipples until they hardened.

He placed his large hands over each breast, massaging and squeezing them together. Increasing the pressure until almost painful. His rough actions in contrast with the softness of the pampered pricks hands.

The flick of his tongue over each nipple had Y/N clenching around nothing. An involuntary whine escaping as the wet appendage traced her areolas. Using his hot breath to further stimulate her peaks, he sucked one into his mouth, simultaneously pinching the other. Ransom alternated his licks and sucks between both breasts while she futilely attempted to resist.

Her skin was on fire, all her senses intoxicated with her tormentor. She swallowed as he moved down her body, leaving a burning trail with his sinister mouth and hands. He spread her legs with little resistance, settling between them like this was his personal throne.

First exploring with his fingers, he gently rubbed her clit with his thumb. Y/N gasped and tried to close her legs. Ransom swatted them back open and lowered his chin to rest on her mound, waiting for her to match his gaze.

It took a moment for her to look down, greeted with his beautiful blues staring back at her. The sight of him between her legs making her weak. His eyes carried a mischievous glint as he lowered his face. Her breath caught in her throat when he eagerly lapped and sucked at her folds. Dragging his tongue down and around, dipping into her opening. Licking teasing circles around where she needed him most, gently flicking his tongue on her bud before repeating.

Any remaining fog Y/N felt disappeared as he took her apart piece by piece. Her free hand found its way into his hair, holding on for dear life. His tongue wiggled itself fully inside her aching hole. She cried out in surprise when he sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could. A loud satisfied hum sending ripples through her, electrifying every nerve.

Releasing her, Ransom licked his lips and dove back in for more. His hands moved from gripping her thighs to kneading her ass as he continued to expertly suck and lick at her most sensitive areas. Devouring her like a fine meal.

“Say my name, Killer.” He commanded, softly licking her clit up and down.

Her toes curled, “Oh God!”

“Close. Try again.” His tempo increased.

“Hugh”, she taunted, pulling on his locks.

A slap to her cunt made her gasp. She gave in, “Ransom.”

Satisfied, Ransom sucked on two of his fingers, smiling at her before slowly, maddeningly inserting them in her dripping pussy. Slightly curling his digits as he pumped them in and out, he continued using his entire tongue to lick from her opening to her clit.

She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, silently begging for more as she grinded against his face. Her hand squeezed her right breast as the sweet pressure built. Ransom reached out to grab her left. Y/N’s back arched more and more as her thighs began to quiver.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

The dam burst. Her body felt like it was levitating as she came with a shriek, collapsing in a boneless heap.

Withdrawing his fingers, Ransom slid up her body. Grabbing the back of her neck, he pulled her into a kiss, possessing her breath. To his sheer delight, Y/N held his cheek, deepening the kiss, entwining their tongues in a dance of dominance.

Suddenly, she broke contact by putting her hand over his mouth. “Get me out of these so I can return the favor. You won’t regret it.”

His eyes lit up. Pulling the key out of his pants pocket, Ransom excitedly unlocked the cuffs. She took a minute to rub at the freed wrist before encouraging him to lay down. He spanked her juicy behind as they switched positions, making her laugh.

Y/N wasted no time pulling his clothes off. Kissing him hard and groping every part of him she could reach. He felt as amazing as she imagined.

“I knew you wanted me. I knew it, I fucking knew it.” Ransom was elated at the turn of events.

Tearing off the black boxer briefs, Y/N marveled at his impressive cock. Fully erect and begging for attention, it made her almost forget she shouldn’t sink down on and ride him into next week.

She grinned at him as she closed the handcuffs on both his hands, securing him to the bed, “Fair is fair.”

“Kinky slut.” Transfixed on the gorgeous smile directed at him, Ransom submitted to her game.

Pressing her lips to his one more time, she began kissing down his neck, leaving a few love bites. He yelped when she tweaked both his nipples. Forgiven with giggles because she looked so hot worshiping his body. Ransom closed his eyes in pleasure.

Y/N paid special attention to his chest and abdomen, sucking as many hickies as she could. He wantonly moaned each time, encouraging her to mark him, make him hers. She had to admit she was loving having control over him. His desperate sounds making her drip.

Parting his thighs and kneeling between them, she scratched down both of his strong thighs causing him to hiss. “Eyes on me, baby, you don't want to miss this.”

Ransom watched with interest as her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking the firm velvety length. They locked eyes as Y/N gave it a long lick. Lowering her mouth over the crown, she started swirling her tongue around, gently sucking the head before pulling back.

Gathering saliva in her mouth, she swallowed him until he bumped the back of her throat. Gagging slightly, she pulled away. Y/N smiled coyly, tickling his frenulum with the tip of her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she firmly grasped the base, repeating her previous action. 

Gently sucking as he slid in and out of her mouth, she used her other hand to carefully fondle his balls. Ransom praised her, his head falling back onto the pillow, eyes falling shut again, relishing in the wet heat of her mouth.

Y/N increased her rhythm until Ransom was a panting mess above her, every muscle in his body tense. She switched to pumping with her hand, “You close, baby?”

“S-s-so close.”

She gave another lick…

Then pulled away, sitting back on her heels.

It took a few seconds before Ransom’s eyes popped open, “Why'd you stop?”

When she didn’t respond, he grew concerned. “What's wrong?… Killer?”

“I changed my mind,” she shrugged. “I quit.”

He nervously chuckled, “You can't do that. Babe, come on, stop playing around.”

Y/N got off the bed, standing with her hands on hips, staring at him in all his glory. Sighing she shook her head. “What a pity? If you weren't such an asshole…. Oh well.”

She picked up his sweater from the floor, putting it on. His pants and socks followed. His shoes were far too big, but better than nothing. She brandished the key she found, then repocketed it.

“Thanks for the orgasm, but I have better places to be.”

Ransom flipped out, yelling and calling her horrible names. Struggling against the handcuffs with all his might.

She just smiled, “Let this be a lesson to you.” Taking a few steps towards the door, his voice made her pause.

“Killer, Killer, come on, let me go,” he begged. “I’ll forgive you, okay. Shit got out of hand. We don’t have to do anything else. I won’t tell anyone. You won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave you alone for good. You can’t leave me like this. Just help me out of the cuffs, please.”

Wow, he said please. That must have hurt.

Y/N observed him for the last time; naked and handcuffed, chest polka dotted with marks and bruises and impressively still hard and begging. What a state. She felt oddly proud of her accomplishment.

“Sorry, I don't work here.” Cracking up, she turned and walked out the bedroom door, waving goodbye.

Making a small stop in Harlan's office, she could hear ransom struggling upstairs.

Poor baby.

The rush of cold air hitting her face as she left was invigorating. Feeling alive and determined, she walked to her car with a confident gait. Before taking off, she flipped off the house.

So long, assholes.

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

Ransom was beyond livid after suffering the humiliation of being found like THAT. He’d been trapped for two days before Fran came by. She had to call someone to come over to cut the cuffs off. He could tell the housekeeper was barely holding in her laughter at his predicament. Even threatening her job and her life didn’t stop her from leaking the information.

Currently he was sitting in his grandfather’s office. Harlan summoned him there, but had yet to speak to him directly. Puttering around, apparently too busy to enlighten Ransom as to why. The longer he was made to wait, the more irritated he got.

Finally Harlan addressed his grandson, “It was quite an unpleasant surprise to come home to my chef’s resignation on my desk. Less surprising was your involvement in her decision.” 

Upon reading the letter when he returned home, Harland immediately phoned Y/N to get the full story. He apologized to her several times, as she did to him as well. He let her know of his disappointment to see her go, and that him and his stomach will miss her terribly. She thanked him for the opportunity and friendship. They parted ways on good terms.

Staring down Ransom, he picked up the phone to call Alan. Instructing him to send his former chef her last check with hefty severance pay and that he would be including a glowing recommendation. Smiling as he spoke, watching his grandson ball his hands into fists, his jaw clenching and eyes ablaze with fury. It was so easy to ruffle his feathers.

Ransom flew out of his chair, knocking it over, going nose to nose with Harlan. “You’re giving that little bitch that much money. Are you out of your fucking mind, old man? You should be calling the cops, not rewarding that slut.”

His grandfather’s amused smile only furthered his anger. “You are my family. You should be supporting ME… You are nothing but a filthy traitor… You set me up, didn’t you?” The accusation rang true in his brain so he clung onto it. He would not stand for this betrayal.

Harlan found the act of intimidation humorous. He would not back down from rubbing the embarrassing blunder in his grandson’s face. “You’ve been harassing this young woman, drugged her, kidnapped her…”

Ransom interrupted, rolling his eyes, “It's not kidnapping if it's in the same house.”

“…bound and sexually assaulted her. And you're mad she got the upper hand?” Harlan threw his head back with a barking laugh. “If she was still on the payroll, I'd give her a raise.” He continued to laugh in Ransom's face. “You are a paragon of foolishness and pride. Do not think I will forget what you have cost me.”

“You will regret this. Just wait.” Ransom stormed out of the office, taking his rage out on everything he saw. 

By the sound of it, Harlan would have to repair a few things once Ransom was done with his tantrum. Turning his chair to face the window, he watched the falling snow. Lamenting the loss of a wonderful employee, he looked forward to supporting her on her next venture. She was going to go places. He would see to it. 

His grandson on the other hand, well, he was going to have to practice some tough love with him. Harlan’s soft heart decided to let Ransom cool off first. Big changes would come soon enough.

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

[nifolution]

The last chapter of the ofc version of I Quit is posted. I will be posting the reader insert version in a few days. Hold tight.

[nifolution]

I Quit 6

Warnings: noncon touching, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, unsolicited dick pic/video, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, a bit of somno

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 5 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

Y/N couldn't stop herself from looking out the window every few minutes. Large chunky flakes of snow slowly fell, covering everything in a fluffy white blanket. It was beautiful. The fireplaces in the manor were lit, making the house smell a little smoky and almost sweet. If she was quiet, she could hear the crackling of the burning wood. It was so calming, homey. She could pretend she was still in her pjs, warm mug in her hands, watching nature’s display without a care in the world.

The crash of the front door being forcibly opened disturbed the serene atmosphere. Followed by someone stamping their boots and swearing. Making everyone aware of his distaste for the road conditions and what the weather was doing to his new car.

Ugh, he’s back.

A few minutes later, she felt Ransom standing behind her. Tingles ran up her arms as she inhaled his intoxicating scent mixed with the winter chill still clinging to his skin. Y/N knew too much of his body at this point. Since his vacation, he continued to send daily dick pics and explicit messages. Relentless in his attempted seduction. Yet she hadn't blocked him yet. A twisted part of her wanting to know what he'd do next. How far he'd go before he gave up. Or maybe how long before she’d give in.

Ransom stood next to her at the window. Slowly sliding his hand into her back pocket, squeezing her rear possessively. If someone were to walk in, they would look like a cute couple admiring the scenery. As far as he was concerned, that was exactly what they were. “Did you like the flowers?”

“Burglars don’t usually leave gifts. So I threw them in the trash. Why don’t you do the world a favor and throw yourself in there too.”

“That’s not very nice,” he chastised. “It was only a little B&E. No malicious intent. Barely even a crime.”

Y/N scoffed and turned to walk away from him. His next words stopped her in her tracks.

“I wanted to thank you for the gift you left for me.” Ransom cackled when her confused face turned back to him. He pulled his prize out of his front pocket. “It was just too cute, I couldn't resist.”

Her face burned seeing her pink bunny thong swinging from his finger. She attempted to snatch them from him, which he dodged. He then mockingly held the material above her head, making her jump for them. Laughing each time he moved them just out of her reach.

Giving up, Y/N threw up her arms, telling him to keep them. She wouldn't want them back after his nasty hands have been on them anyway.

His eyebrow quirked, “Not just my hands.” He stuffed the thong back into his pants. Completely changing the topic, he asked her what she was making tonight.

“Chicken with honey garlic pan sauce and steamed green beans.” She crossed her arms, waiting for his scathing remarks.

“Pssh, what are you burned out already?” Ransom opened the fridge, “No appy? And what is this, chocolate mousse for dessert?” Clicking his tongue, he slammed the fridge closed, rattling its contents. “Unacceptable. I won't eat it. I want lobster tail.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his demand, returning to her duty at the stovetop. “We don’t have any. I only planned on cooking for Harlan tonight. If you want lobster so badly, you can see yourself to the store, or suck it up and have chicken.” She added the prepared poultry to the hot skillet.

He scrunched his nose at the idea. “It’s the helps job to run errands. You really need to be trained properly. Sadly, I don’t have the time right now. I’m late for my date with Tina… Terri? T-something.” He waved off the blunder. “No matter. I doubt we’ll make it past drinks.”

Ransom leaned in to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “I want you to know I’ll be thinking of you the entire time I’m fucking her... It coulda been you.” As he moved away, he swiped at the pan, intent on spilling it and ruining the meal.

Not thinking, her hands darted out to catch it before it fell, burning herself in the process. A stream of hissing and curses leaving her mouth.

“Ouch. Don't be so sloppy, Killer. You may want to put some ice on that.” He swept out of the room and out the front door. Not sparing a minute to greet his grandfather.

 What the fucking fuck? Cannot believe that fucking asshole.

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

The next family dinner came too soon. Y/N felt she would begin having nightmares about the hell that was dealing with the Thrombeys. Their fabulous vacations hadn’t seemed to calm any of them down. The opposite in fact. Seeing as how they spent most of the night screaming at each other.

Linda and Richard were having it out with their son and each other. Walt was picking fights with Richard and Ransom. Donna with Linda and Ransom. Harlan with Walt and Ransom. All spewing the most vile things at their relatives at the top of their lungs. It was chaos.

Little Jacob ignored them all, playing games on his phone. Joni and her daughter were not in attendance, but Harlan’s mother was. The old woman was dressed to the nines. Smartly not participating in any of her family’s bickering.

Ransom snuck away to join Y/N in the kitchen. Looking every bit like the cat who ate the canary. His family quarreling seemed to energize him. He spared no time in flirting with her. Asking her to come home with him. That it would be good for her to have a drink, destress. Promising a full body massage with a happy ending.

“No.”

“Just no? Why, what’s the problem?” He hopped up onto the countertop next to where she was putting the finishing touches on a strawberry cheesecake. “You need to loosen up and I'm offering to help you. I think we'd have a great time.” 

Her voice came out sharp, “Can you please move your ass off my work area?” Y/N already had a headache from the noise. She wanted to finish her job, go home, take a painkiller and go to sleep. Not deal with his frustrating egocentric crap.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Not liking her attitude. Taking out his wallet, he began putting hundred dollar bills down one at a time. “How much is it going to take? Everything and everyone has a price. Let's negotiate.”

Y/N’s eyes moved away from her task, to the pile of cash, then to Ransom. Giving him a half smile, she scooped up the money, folding it in half. She stepped over to stand between his long legs, placing her free hand on his knee before traveling up his thigh. Hooking a finger into his pocket, she shoved the bills inside.

“I’m not for sale. Go back to your country club skanks.”

“I don’t get you. I’m a catch. You should be begging on your knees for someone of my caliber to give you the time of day. I go out of my way for you and you deny me.”

Y/N stepped back, shaking her head at him. “You’ve never worked for anything in your life. You have the world laid at your feet. Money, cars, women. Why don't you go play with one of those things and leave me alone. I’m done putting up with you. You play these mind games and act like a giant toddler when told no. Throwing a tantrum and probably pissing your pants.”

His jaw clenched tight enough to crack a tooth. Y/N was ready to chastise him again, when he suddenly stuck his hand right in the middle of the dessert, ruining it. She gasped as he brought a huge handful to his mouth, taking a bite, before throwing the rest at the closest wall. Some of the mess splattering back at them. 

Ransom jumped down, going over to the sink to wash his hand. He walked out backward, his vicious glare focused on her, “Stupid fucking dyke.”

“That just proves my point, ya know.”

He kicked open the kitchen door, turning to walk back to the table. Unfortunately, she had to follow him. The family were still talking over one another. Harlan's mom sat staring at her wine glass. Y/N had to shout that dessert will be just a few minutes. Doubting anyone even heard her.

Random laughed to himself, proud that he wrecked her hard work and now she was scrambling. He expected the arguments to soon shift to dessert being late. Imagining her in the kitchen, crying and frantically trying to make something new. His grandfather may even want to fire her and he'd gallantly swoop in to her defense. She'd have to go on a date with him if saved her job. Right?

To his shock, she came back out in only five minutes. Setting small glass containers in front of everyone. Crowned with a large strawberry, cut to resemble a rose. They were layered with sliced strawberries, preserves and cheesecake filling. She called them strawberry cheesecake jars. He refused to eat it.

Donna sported a disapproving look on her face, but after noticing the happy faces of her kin, changed her demeanor to match. No one seemed more delighted than Harlan's mom. She gobbled up her dessert so fast, Harlan gave her the one untouched in front of Ransom. She smiled at him, digging into her second helping.

Ransom's lip curled watching his family. His mind on the young chef. Why wasn't she playing his game? It almost felt like he was playing hers. He contemplated how he would make her follow his rules. Get his power back.

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

Saturday night found Y/N putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She had a date planned with a guy she’d been recently seeing, Patrick. They had gone on two dates already and had really hit it off. The conversation flowed and they had a lot of fun together. He was sweet and thoughtful, a romantic. They had similar goals and interests, they clicked. Things seemed to be headed in the right direction.

Hearing the knock on her front door, Y/N ran over, bouncing on her toes as she answered it.

It wasn’t Patrick.

In place of her date, stood Ransom. Wearing an expensive suit with a bouquet of flowers held in front of him. 

“What, no smile? Not happy to see me? You know, it occurs to me that I've never seen you smile. Not once.” He tried to hand over the flowers, but she didn’t take them.

“You don't inspire a smile.”

Undaunted, Ransom told her how hot she looked all dressed up for him. And how he couldn’t wait to see what was underneath.

Y/N gritted her teeth, “It’s not for you. I have a date. Now leave!”

Ransom cocked his head to the side, perplexed. “Why do you resist me so hard? Just give in. Let me have you. I'm a significant upgrade from whatever farm boy you're seeing.” He spun around to give her the full view. “With me, you get to be on the arm of a devastatingly handsome, rich, ivy league grad who can spoil you.”

“That may be more impressive if your family didn't pay your way through. I'm sure my date got better grades than you and he earned them.”

He tried to push his way into her apartment. “Fine, we’ll stay in then. You really need that attitude fucked out of you.”

Y/N blocked him, “I told you, I have plans. Now get out of here before Patrick arrives.”

He barked out a laugh. “Farm boy’s not coming. I paid him off. One hundred bucks. Making this my cheapest date by far.” The mix of surprise and anger on her face made him stiff. “I may not be able to buy you, but I think for an extra two, the guy would’ve sucked my dick. He didn't even think about it, just took the money and ran.”

Seeing red, she shoved him away. Telling him off and slamming the door in his smug face.

Ransom yelled through the door. “No skin off my nose. I’ve got Dorothy on standby. She’ll appreciate being wined and dined by Boston's most eligible bachelor.”

Y/N finished her night sitting on her couch, drinking a bottle of wine and watching trash tv. Wiping the occasional tear from her cheek. Hating every one she shed for that idiot. A hundred bucks, seriously? She thought they had something. Frickin’ waste of time. Grabbing her phone, she blocked Patrick’s number. Forget him.

Why are all men such disappointments?

The next morning, she awoke to texts from Ransom. It started out the same sexual shit as usual, then stating how cute she was when she slept. Her blood froze. Included was a photo of her asleep on the couch, her top pushed up, breasts on full display.

A new message pinged. [I was right. You are sensitive… even in your sleep.]

Her mind blanked. She wasn’t sure what to feel. Alarmed, disturbed, violated, pissed off, and a little turned on. Her brain seemed to short circuit. There were no words, just static.

Chapter 7

[nifolution]

I Quit 5

Warnings: noncon touching, harassment, sexual harassment, dubcon dry humping, Ransom is his usual asshole self, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, breaking and entering, threats, masturbation

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 4 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

The next day passed without a visit from Ransom. Y/N tried to be grateful for his absence, but not knowing if and when he’d show up had her on edge. She knew the asshole had returned to the house at some point because every knife in the kitchen was missing. Assuming he purloined them and they’d never be seen again, she had to ask Harlan for money to buy more immediately.

That evening, Y/N began putting on her coat to head home when Fran informed her Harlan wanted to see her in his office. A feeling of dread overcame her as she neared, worrying that Ransom followed through on his threats to have her terminated. Even though the door was open, she knocked with great trepidation. Her stomach in knots as her employer asked her to sit.

Harlan, already dressed in his night robe, smiled at her kindly, alleviating some of her nerves. “I apologize for the last minute meeting. I haven’t had a moment to myself today. I simply wanted to check in with you. Make sure you are happy working here.”

“Oh, I am.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, his hand over his heart. “That's good to hear. I had concerns that my family was becoming too much to handle. I’ve caught you looking quite perturbed as of late. Particularly last night. I would hate to lose you.”

Y/N wanted to reassure him. So she straightened her back, lifted her chin and sounded far more confident than she felt, “My job is to make food, it's what I love to do. All the family squabbling and picky eaters and unsolicited beauty advice won’t change that.”

“Splendid.” Harlan leaned back in his heavy wooden chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “And I wanted to apologize on behalf of my grandson as well. He likes the thrill of the chase, harmless, really.”

I’m not so sure about that.

“Well he's about to find himself on the receiving end of a scalding pot if he doesn't cut it out.” Y/N crossed her arms defensively, before the realization of what she said out loud hit her. Cringing, she looked at Harlan, expecting the worst.

She was shocked to see Harlan stifling a laugh. His snickering eventually turned into a full belly laugh. One she couldn’t help but join in on. Harlan told her she was funny and he had faith she could handle herself around Ransom. She was no damsel in distress.

“He's a lot like my younger self, I'm afraid. Life's a game to him. He hasn't been told no often. Being the first grandchild, he was awfully spoiled by all of us. And I fear it has continued.” Harlan frowned, shaking his head. 

“As for his intense interest, I wouldn't worry. He'll move on quickly to his next conquest. In the meantime, I appreciate that your presence has made Ransom show up. He's refused to be present so often these last few years and I've missed him... I hope he and I can get back to our weekly boardgames. I enjoyed them so....”

Turning himself to face the window, Harlan’s voice grew quiet, morose. “I know my family is a lot to take. Most certainly an acquired taste. I've spoiled all of them I’m afraid” He paused, deep in thought. Peering out into the night as if it would provide answers. “When I'm on my deathbed I wish to be surrounded by those that love me for who I am, not for what I have... I'm going to have to do something about that soon…”

Suddenly he turned back to Y/N, a mischievous look on his face. “Would it be too much to trouble you for a midnight snack before you leave for the night?”

“There's a fresh batch of cinnamon oatmeal and chocolate chunk cookies. I'll have Fran bring them to you with some milk.” 

“Perhaps with a little something stronger?”

Y/N winked, “You got it.”

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

It had been a week since Y/N saw or heard any word from the bane of her existence. She enjoyed the peace it provided. Trying to be optimistic that he finally gave up. Found someone or something else to spend his energy on.

While laying down in bed, scrolling through social media, her phone rang with a video call from an unknown number. She declined it, but it instantly rang again.

Who would be calling this frickin’ late?

Huffing, Y/N answered, prepared to tell off the person on the other end.

“Looking good there, Killer. I didn't wake ya, did I?”

“How the fuck did you get my number?” she screeched.

Ransom chuckled, “Gramps is old school. Had your number right there in his rolodex.” He started rambling on about his vacation, flipping his camera to briefly show the fancy hotel room. Bragging about how he's been drinking sex on the beach on the beach, working on his tan and missing her scowling face.

Oh, so that's where he's been.

He sighed deeply, “You really should have joined me. We could've rubbed tanning oil all over each other's bodies… among other things. If you behaved, you'd even have the pleasure of calling yourself my girlfriend.”

“I’d never be with a soulless douche that spends more time on his hair than I do.”

“I know you love my hair though. Just dying to run your fingers through it. Grip it in ecstasy.” Self assured in this dance, he stretched his body and yawned, letting the camera trail down over his bronzed chest. “Let's go out when I get home. Bury the hatchet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the invite. “Yeah, right into your back.”

A wicked grin spread across his face. “Thinking about my back now, huh? I tempt you that much? I bet you touch yourself thinking about me... Let me give you some more inspiration.”

“How does someone get so full of themselves?” She didn’t notice that he moved the camera again.

“I’m definitely full of myself right now. I’d like to fill you too.” Ransom let out a low moan, “All for you, baby.”

WELL. FUCK. ME!

Right there on her screen was a very naked Ransom. His swollen pink cock front and center. Y/N swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away. Her entire body on fire watching his hand slide up and down his thick shaft.

His breathy voice punctuated with each stroke, “Come on, be fair. I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

That snapped her out of it. Blinking rapidly, she pretended to be unimpressed, “The only thing you should see is a doctor.”

“Yeah, a therapist to help get you off my mind.” His hand began to move faster, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.

“You’ve consumed all my waking thoughts and dirtiest dreams, Killer.” Between groans, his husky voice continued, “I’ve been imagining your lips around my rock hard cock this whole conversation. You look so good with your naughty mouth stuffed as I spill down your…”

Y/N pressed End Call and threw the phone to the other side of the bed. She pressed her hands into her hot cheeks, blowing out long breaths to cool off. The artificial light dimmed, bathing her in shadows as she tried to wrap her head around what had transpired.

Did he really just..? 

What an asshole!

Reaching around in the dark, Y/N grabbed her cell, placing it on its charger for the night. She closed her eyes to sleep.

However, the sandman never arrived. After tossing and turning for who knows how long, the images wouldn't leave her brain. Nor would the ache between her legs.

Shamefully, she opened the bedside table drawer to pull out her favorite toy. Vowing to take this act to her grave.

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

New year, new… something.

Y/N was enjoying whisking up the chocolate glaze for a Sacher-torte. The smell of rum and boiling chocolate made her stomach growl. The munchies were not far behind. Baked baking was a blast. The smells and flavors spoke to her. She made desserts better stoned.

The last person she wanted to see appeared next to her. Leaning against the counter, watching her with devilish interest. She did her damndest to ignore him. The stress he created started bleeding out into her home life. She did not need this.

She didn’t so much as flinch when he ran a finger down her spine. Why was she still resisting him? They always give in eventually. His high school tutor, his dentist, his grandfather’s researcher, the cop ticketing him for speeding, his ex’s best friend and her other best friend, his American lit professor, his mom’s assistant, even his therapist. He always got what he wanted.

“That’s a pretty dress.” He growled at her lack of response. “You know, I’m getting real tired of the hard-to-get act.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. Why don't you go bother someone else? Someone that actually falls for your bullshit.”

Ransom gripped her chin, turning her to face him. He sneered, “How about I tell my grandfather you’re getting high at work.”

Y/N laughed in his face, “Well seeing as he's the one I blazed up with, I don't think he'll give a shit.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I know my mother wouldn't be too keen when she hears about this.”

“You’re going to tell your mommy on me? Really, little boy?” She laughed harder, shoving him away.

His eyes darkened, venom dripping from his nonexistent fangs. “You know I'm anything but little.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N leaned over to grab something in a low cupboard. Unaware she was giving Ransom a peak of her panties.

Unable to resist, he pushed himself against her. She yelped, almost tumbling over, so he tightly grabbed her hips, bringing her back to him. “So stubborn.” 

He slowly grinded against her so she could feel every inch of what she did to him. Using his advantage to move her as he desired. “I bet you’re sensitive. Get nice and wet for me with the smallest of touches, wouldn't you? I’d lap at that sweet flower of yours. Make you desperate for me. You'll be begging for every inch of my cock... I'd treat you so well, you’ll never want to leave… Not that I'd let you go.”

The loud buzz of the timer broke the spell. Ransom sniffed and straightened himself. He walked away without a word, oddly proud he dry humped her where anyone could have walked in. Knowing he left her wanting more.

Y/N's knees buckled. She slid to the floor, too stunned and admittedly too turned on to say anything. Hoping he didn't realize the wetness on her panties, but knowing he probably did.

Shit, shit, shit.

This was going to ruin her. She felt like a pot ready to boil over. Thighs clenching, desperate for friction. Admittedly, it’d been too long. Why did he have to feel so good? Why did her pussy have to be such a traitor?

She was not sure how she made it through the rest of the day in the state she was in. Hating herself, hating him more. Cursing his name.

Walking into her apartment, she stripped off her clothes, needing a shower. Her mind a mess. As she passed by, she noticed a vase of beautiful flowers on her kitchen table. Flowers that she did not put there.

Shit!

Chapter 6

[nifolution]

I Quit 4

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom, non-consensual touching, mild harassment, unwanted “advice”

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 3 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

The asshole kept showing up without warning. Sometimes under the pretense of spending time with Harlan. Other times he'd blow in like a storm, mess with her and leave just as quickly. Seemingly making it his mission to make her job as hard as possible, living to torment her.

Y/N felt she was constantly under his wicked gaze. He annoyed her beyond measure, but there were strange feelings underneath it that she refused to explore. Pushing them down every time he touched her. When his fingers would caress her arms, tickle her sides, play with her hair. His warm palms resting on her back, brushing against her thighs, massaging her shoulders. His hands always found their way to her body.

Honeyed promises flowed out of his mouth, trying to entice her. How he knew people, could introduce her and get her into places she'd never have the chance to without him. Jumpstart her career, make her a hot commodity.

Ransom would offer to buy her things; cars, clothing, jewelry. Take her shopping at the most luxurious and sought after shops and boutiques. Book a trip for two on a private plane to Bora Bora, Fiji, or St. John's. Painting pictures of sunshine, secluded beaches, yachting, bikinis, massages, and drinking champagne in a hot tub as they'd watch the sunset over the ocean.

When Y/N would rebuff his advances, he would become petulant. Doing petty things such as stealing from the kitchen or insulting the food in front of his grandfather. The cycle kept repeating. Ransom's words would go from soft and sensual to explicit to threatening. Every rejection and returned threat only seemed to encourage him. He would not be deterred.

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

Another Sunday, another awful family dinner. Tonight's atmosphere was already full of tension. Ransom's smug presence causing all hackles up and on high alert. Y/N wondered if so much rottenness in the air may spoil the food. It certainly made her lose her own appetite.

As Y/N brought out the main course, the group were in the middle of bragging about where they each were spending the holidays. Trying to outdo the other with the fun and lavish time they would be having.

Fran helped place the plates in front of them. It could have been actual ghosts serving them for all they noticed. Not even aware of the food under their noses until Y/N began speaking.

“Tonight we have prime rib with garlic and herb butter. Potato cream with caramelized leeks and brown butter brussel sprouts. And for our vegan guests, I prepared grilled cauliflower steaks with cilantro crema. Sweet potato wedges and rosemary seasoned roasted brussel sprouts. Please enjoy.”

Ransom looked up at Y/N through his long eyelashes. “This isn't cooked,” he complained, smirking.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N explained the prime rib was cooked appropriately to bring out the best flavor and tenderness. When he continued to poke at it with his fork, she offered to throw it back in for him. He smiled and handed over his plate, remarking that a real chef would know what they were doing.

Walking back into the kitchen, she reminded herself that murder was wrong. Quickly heating up the piece of meat, she threw it back on the plate, resisting the urge to spit on it.

Ransom accepted his returned meal with a grin. He held up a finger for her to wait as he cut out a chunk and took a bite. “Wow, this is dry as hell. And the gravy is burnt. What am I supposed to do with this?”

Go fuck yourself with a flaming cactus.

Y/N gave her apologies with a smile. Asking him if he would prefer the alternate meal that his aunt and cousin had because there were extras. He made a face but didn't make further demands.

Linda called to her before she could escape. “Y/N, dear. As I'm sure you are aware, we are all family here, including the staff.” Her lips pressed in a firm line, corners barely upturned, making heavy eye contact with Y/N. “And as a family, I'm sure you can agree we should be able to be honest with one another. It pains me to say this, but facial piercings are trashy and you should really consider removing that garbage from your pretty face.”

Y/N stood there, speechless at the gall of this woman.

“I couldn’t disagree more. It’s a sign of her independence and individuality. How dare you try to oppress her.” Joni reached for Y/N’s hand, which luckily was out of her reach.

Eyes momentarily narrowed at her sister-in-law, Linda sighed and raised her hands in defeat. “Well if she wants to look like whore, then I can't help her.”

Not to be outdone, Ransom pulled the attention back to himself. Noisily making a mess of his potatoes, letting them fall off his spoon and splatter around like it was the worst thing he's ever seen. “This is disgusting, flavorless baby food.”

Meg scoffed, “You’re being an asshole.”

“Shut up, teen bop and eat your tofu.”

The arguing continued as Y/N slipped away to the shelter of the kitchen. Fran was waiting for her, having heard everything. “It's amazing how they phrase straight up insults as being helpful, isn't it? I felt so valued as a family member when she told me last week that a show she watches has a monkey butler and I should watch it and take notes.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, “These people.”

“Just wait. You haven’t seen half of what they are capable of yet.”

The pair carried out dessert; burgundy pears with whipped lemon cream cheese. The family seemed delighted, save for one scowling face.

Ransom speared the fruit with his fork, picking it up and twirling it. “What is this gooey blob? It looks like a tumor?”

“Takes one to know one,” Meg snorted, covering her mouth in embarrassment at the noise. 

Joni caught Y/N’s arm as she walked by. Holding her in place as she gave hair and makeup tips. Explaining to her like a child, about how she should dress and carry herself. “I’d be willing to sell you my last season's fashions at a small discount, but we’d have to let them out of course.” Her head was thrown back with the force of her laugh.

“Bah,” Richard jeered. His flushed face reflected the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed. “Nobody wants your hippy-dippy fashions.” His unfocused eyes moved to Y/N. “Don’t you change a thing. Your body was made for the male gaze. More to grab on to. Show it off however you want. Or leave more to the imagination. However you are feeling, darling is A-OK.” He winked at her, then stretched his arms up, faking a yawn. Jiggling the money clip in his right hand to make sure it was seen.

This guy is literally waving his money around. Ew. Just ew ew ew.

Walt started shouting at Richard about hitting on the help. Citing his sisters honor and respect. Things he most likely had no idea the meaning of.

Only then did Harlan put a stop to the fighting. Not allowing illspeak of his daughter.

Y/N couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

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

After she assumed the Thrombey horde filed out. Y/N turned on her playlist and began washing the large pile of dishes. Her breath hitched as a strong pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. 

He smelled her hair, then whispered in ear, “I can't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against mine.” Ransom chuckled at her attempt to shrug him off. “Come on, Killer, you're too pretty to be working this hard. Let me take you out, get a few drinks in ya to loosen up.” 

“Hard pass.”

Ransom rubbed circles on her stomach. “I get it, you think you're too beneath me to date, well don’t worry about that. I see people below my status all the time. How can I deny them when they come so willingly, and often. You’ll find, I’m always up for a good time.”

Y/N growled. “I just want to do my job and go home. Not be hassled by some arrogant playboy. I want no part of whatever validation you get from this cat and mouse game. Now get your paws off of me.”

He felt her stiffen as his hands began to move up her torso. “So tense. Come on, you need some serious stress relief, especially after dealing with my piece of shit family. Let me help you.”

Trapped in his arms, she did her best to ignore the tingling his skilled hands caused as he felt her up. Not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Willing her breath to remain calm and her heart to stop beating so fast.

“Your nipples are so hard, what’s that about then?” Ransom took the half cleaned plate out of her hand, “Just admit you want me.” He licked her ear, smiling at the quiet squeak she made. He knew he could make this little mouse scream. “This body is begging me for attention.” Placing a kiss to her neck, assured in his success, he continued, “Just give in. I promise I'll make you feel so good.”

After a deep exhale, Y/N got her wits about her. “I wouldn’t want to risk catching the mountain of STDs you’re carrying.” He pulled away at her words, so she turned to face him. Looking him up and down with disdain. “You're not as hot as you think you are. Fifteen years ago maybe, but at your age the cocky fuckboy act isn’t cute, it's pathetic.”

He snarled and threw the dish in the sink, breaking it. Once his retreating figure was out of sight, she breathed a sigh of relief. 

Murder wasn’t looking so bad.

Chapter 5

[nifolution]

I Quit 3

Warnings: Ransom being Ransom

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 2 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

It had been a few days since the Thrombey family dinner. Y/N welcomed the return to her mostly quiet routine. Grateful that those nights didn't usually happen more than once a month. The whole family seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and only interested in their own image. Hiding their misery behind luxury and fake smiles. How Harlan spawned such a bunch, she'd never know.

Y/N was sitting at the kitchen island, enjoying her drive-thru lunch. Because let's face it, she cooked for a living, and sometimes the greasy fast food hit the spot. An added bonus that it involved no work on her part. It's like they say, food tastes better when prepared by someone else. She found that all the more true on days she felt exhausted or moody. 

She nearly choked on her cheeseburger when an unknown figure appeared in her peripheral vision. The man strode past her without a glance, straight into the pantry. The sound of drawers opening and slamming shut seemed extra loud as the stranger rummaged around. An angry voice rang out, “Who moved the damn cookies?”

Who does this guy think he is destroying my kitchen?

Y/N firmly answered, “I did.”

The kitchen invader stepped out, seemingly surprised to see an unfamiliar face staring daggers at him. Although the apron clued him into her position here. “Where's the old broad?”

“I assume you mean my predecessor, she's retired. I'm Y/N. I’ve been working here for a few weeks now.” She pointed her chin behind the man, “The cookies are on the bottom left.”

Instead of returning to the pantry, he moved closer to her, “Y/N, that's a lovely name.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “I'll be sure to tell my mom you approve.” She recognized him now from the family portrait hanging in the parlor. “I assume you're Hugh.”

His face lit up, “Smart girl.” His eyes scanned her from head to foot, openly ogling her. “A pretty girl like you can call me Ransom, though.”

This time her eyes rolled without her permission. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

Ransom didn't answer. Instead he leaned over the island, snatching a french fry. He made a show of slowly bringing it to his mouth and eating it, daring her to say something. She wanted to slap it out of his greedy hand. Or maybe shove the whole lot down his throat. She wasn’t sure.

“Well, it's been fun, but I have to see my grandfather. I have an important matter to discuss with him.” He sucked the salt from his fingers. “Maybe I'll swing back after so we can chat. Get to know one another better.” He winked at her, walking out with a swagger and a smile.

What an ass.

Was he cute, absolutely. But Y/N was all too familiar with narcissistic jerkwads like him. Her school was full of them. She refused to let him get to her.

Fran had told her Ransom liked to show up whenever he felt like it, stir the pot, then slink off into the darkness after he had his fun. His family took the bait every time, so he delighted in causing them any amount of misery or aggravation he could. She also mentioned how he and his grandfather seemed to thrive in having a go at one another. Pissing the other off was their favorite pastime, but they loved each other dearly. The relationships in this family were beyond dysfunctional.

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

A few hours later, Ransom made his way back into the kitchen, intent on seducing Harlan's new chef. The old man put up a fight, but eventually caved in to his demands. He always did eventually. Too kind to let his first grandkid suffer through life and legal battles alone and without a new car. A few choice words, a few rounds of Go and he was putty in his hands. 

Now it was time to get something else he wanted. He paused, leaning against the doorframe, quietly observing the young chef while she chopped vegetables. She looked so innocent, so unbothered. Poor thing didn't know what she was in for.

It was quite sexy watching her work. Smiling to himself, Ransom closed in on her, wanting a better look. The shk shk shk of the blade hitting the cutting board didn't falter. It was a bit hypnotic, her expert hands made it look so easy. He wondered what else she could do with those hands. Promising himself he’d find out.

“You'd look better with your hair down.”

Y/N didn't bother looking up at the attractive nuisance. He was so close that whatever expensive cologne he wore filled her nostrils, distracting her. “That's not a good idea while I'm cooking.”

“So grouchy,” Ransom pouted. “You should be nice, smile more. I'm sure you have a beautiful smile.” She turned her head to glare at him. That was not the reaction he wanted. What would it take to get her to play? “You realize one word from me and my grandfather will fire you?”

“Do YOU realize I'm holding a big ass knife?” She waved the blade for emphasis. 

Ransom held his hands up in surrender, backing away dramatically. “Take it easy there, Killer. I was just being friendly. It wouldn't hurt ya to do the same. You might actually enjoy it.” The shit eating grin remained plastered on his face as he exited.

No, but it very well might kill you, asshole. Not wanting to lose her position, Y/N smartly chose to not speak that part out loud. Just in case.

A breath she didn’t realize she was holding released upon hearing the front door slam. He was gone. She got back to the task at hand, but would be lying if she said her mind didn’t start to wander.

Damn he smelled good.

Chapter 4

[nifolution]

I Quit 2

Warnings: The Thrombeys being themselves, recreational drug use

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

The first two weeks of Y/N's employment went smoothly. Harlan did indeed have a taste for sweets. The rest of his palate she worked at learning, but he seemed happy with her efforts. When he didn't care for a dish, he would let her know and she gladly made him something else. Funny enough, the man would ask for tomato and mayo sandwiches, with just a touch of salt and pepper. Such simple requests from such an interesting man.

It was finally the day she was dreading, her first Sunday family dinner with the Thrombey clan. Fran had gossiped about the family with her while she began preparations. She explained who everyone was, their quirks, and entitlements. She had an asshole rating system that Y/N found amusing.

Fran found most of the family intolerable, except Harlan of course. “The top asshole, a number 10, has to be Harlan's grandson, Ransom. But don't call him that, ever. He makes the help call him by his first name, Hugh. He's handsome, for sure, but don't let his face fool you. He is a massive jerk and will charm you, use you up and spit you out like that.” She snapped her fingers and huffed.

“Luckily, he doesn't come to many of these dinners. Not that the rest of them are any easier to deal with. Seriously, they should have their own reality show so the world can see them snarl at each other like a pack of rabid hyenas. I suggest you steer clear of them when you can. These nights can get ROUGH.”

“Duly noted.”

Fran smiled before leaving to set the table. “Good luck tonight. And if you need a little mood stabilizer at the end of the insanity, just let me know. I got you girl.”

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

Y/N's anxiety increased with every new voice that echoed through the large home. She couldn't hear much of the conversations, but was confident Fran would fill her in if she missed anything juicy. So she continued cooking in peace.

Speak of the devil, the brunette rushed into the kitchen, “Top asshole and Harlan’s mother are m.i.a., but the rest are seated. Tell me the app is ready?” Fran already looked so done with the night.

”Right over there. Description card included.”

“Thank youuuu.” She took the appetizers to deliver to the table.

The family was just as she left them. Sitting proper with fake smiles plastered on their faces, while practically seething at one another.  Fran served the table with an equally forced grin.

Richard scoffed at the bowl. “What the hell is this?”

“Richard!” Linda chastised her husband.

Fran swiftly read from the card, “A roasted butternut and apple soup with ginger and coconut milk.”

Linda took a tentative sip and her eyebrows rose. “I see Rosalee has improved.”

Donna followed her lead, also approving of the soup and the improved quality.

Harlan spoke up, “I'm afraid Rosalee has retired. I've hired someone new.” He sent Fran to ask his new chef to come out, greet his family and serve dinner.

Y/N pushed the cart out to the dining area. Feeling like she was walking into shark infested waters wearing a wounded seal suit. All eyes were on her as she entered. Harlan introduced her and asked what she had prepared for them.

“I have for you a herb crusted crown roast of pork with a side of carrots and parsnips in citrus butter.”

“Um, excuse me, hi.” Joni raised her hand, pointing to the offending entrée. “We can't eat that. My Meg and I are vegan. Do you expect me and my daughter to just munch on carrots all night?”

Y/N nodded, “I have been informed of your dietary restrictions and made you both something separate.“ She placed the extra meal in front of them. ”Quinoa cakes with a tomato-zucchini and chickpea relish, drizzled with a balsamic glaze. But if you would like the citrus carrots on the side I can get that for you as well.”

“Dietary restrictions, my ass. It's not a restriction, it's a mental illness.” Walt began to rant, “You know how you can spot a vegan? Don't worry, they'll tell you. They'll never shut up about it. Those douchebags think they're better than everyone else. They look down on us meat eaters, keep trying to convert us. Well let me tell you, eating meat is my God given right. My right! Don't you realize you can't live without meat. Your brain will die. That's why you are all so miserable, you're slowly dying.”

Donna rubbed her husband's shoulder in approval. While Richard raised his glass in salute to Walt's bullshit. Linda pursed her lips, ignoring them and trying to have a chat with her father.

Joni was on the defense, “We are the healthiest we've ever been. It's good for the planet, the environment, which benefits everyone, need I remind you.” She ignored her brother-in-law's snickering. “Let's be real, veganism is the answer to this world's problems. It is. It's the only moral choice. It clears up your skin and makes you feel good inside and out. And we don't have to feel guilty about contributing to the exploitation and slaughter of innocent lives. Animals are just like us.”

“Just like us?” Walt interjected. “Oh really, should we have dad's dogs sitting at the table with us? I tell ya, if Meg was a boy, I'd be calling DCF because you'd be depriving him of nutrients he needs to grow strong and polluting his male DNA with soy.”

“You're the one with blood on your hands, Walt. All those poor cute animals you've killed….”

Richard scoffed, “You've only been,” he raised his fingers in air quotes, “vegan for a damn month.”

“Ya well, I saw the truth and I'm changing. You'll see it too or die with all those animal products clogging your arteries... Plus it's been two months. Thank you very much.”

“I will happily eat my steak and drink my milkshakes all the way to my grave.”

Joni rolled her eyes, “Uck, you are completely hopeless.”

Walt raised his hand to silence any reply from Richard. “Don't bother. It's not worth fueling her delusions.”

That seemed to put an end to that argument. The rest of the meal went well. Although out of the whole family, only Harland and Meg said 'thank you.' Not even the young boy spoke up. For being so rich and fancy, they certainly lacked manners.

Dessert was served without incident. Tiramisu and a mini vegan version for Joni and Meg. Harlan seemed to be in heaven, commenting on how rich and decadent it was.

After dinner was over, Y/N and Fran began clearing the table. Linda poked her head in, “Y/N, may I have a word with you?”

“Was there something wrong with your meal?”

“Oh no, no, dinner was lovely. However, I wanted to make sure you weren't making desserts like that for my dad all the time. He's getting up there in years and has to watch his cholesterol, his sugar intake, blood pressure, things of that nature. He can't be consuming food like you made tonight. He needs to eat healthier. I'd like to keep him around for a long time. I'm sure you can understand.”

“I fully understand, ma'am, but there is no need for concern. The food was chosen because this was a special occasion. It doesn't reflect his daily meals.” Y/N noticed Harlan a few feet behind his daughter. He winked at her before alerting her of his presence.

Linda clapped her hands, “Delightful. I'm so glad we have an understanding. I will make you a list of approved meals.” She smiled at her father before walking away.

Once Linda was out of earshot, Harlan leaned close to Y/N, “I'm not eating that pigeon food. You put her little list up on the message board in the kitchen and ignore it.”

Y/N thought she was safe. The family was dispersing out into the night. She turned on some music and began washing the dishes. Her hips swaying to the beat.

Joni snuck up behind her. “Oh I love this song.” She attempted to dance alongside Y/N, bumping their hips together. “Don't be shy. I could tell you recognize me. I get it allll the time now. You're correct, it's me. Owner, CEO, COO and CFO of FLAM.” She continued boasting about being a top influencer and her skin care products while Y/N stood there like a deer in the headlights.

An unwelcomed hand reached out to stroke her cheek, “Your skin looks so parched. You could really use a hydrating serum. My company offers the perfect product to help. It's an all organic algae blend that feels like the ocean on your face. So refreshing. And there's a vitamin C serum that will bring some life back to your overworked face.”

“Well let me tell you, FLAM is trending right now, it's going to be huge. You go ahead and follow me on twitter or instagram. I'm offering my first 100 followers a 15% off coupon. That will be available once I find the right graphic designer for my website. Those I interviewed so far just couldn't grasp my vision. This is a lifestyle I'm promoting. I have to trust they get my brand, ya know. But hold onto that coupon, it will be honored. So lovely to meet you, Evelyn.”

“Y/N,” she corrected.

“Sure.” Joni made her exit, blowing a kiss.

Fran entered and passed over the joint in her fingers. “It's like the fucking twilight zone isn't it.”

“You weren't kidding.”

The Thrombeys were the most insincere backstabbing piece of crap family she had the displeasure of meeting thus far. She wondered if any of them loved or were loyal to anything but money. Doubtful. Thank goodness she didn’t have to encounter them often. 

These people are something else. I'm going to need therapy if I stay here too long. 

Chapter 3

[nifolution]

I Quit 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale / Reader

Summary: Ransom takes a special interest in Harlan’s new private chef

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, being drugged, undressed and tied up, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, threats, dry humping, masturbation, a bit of somno

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. Reader is said to have a facial piercing, your choice where. Takes place mid-November 2013. About 5 years before the movie. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Okay, second interview of your career. You bombed the first, but that’s expected. Don’t be nervous, you can do this...

Maybe…

Hopefully.

The passing November foliage helped calm her nerves as the GPS led Y/N toward Two Dearborn Drive. The oranges, yellows and reds were mesmerizing.

Driving slowly down the long private road leading to the address, a large manor revealed itself. Menacing in its appearance as it loomed over the surrounding area. Slightly intimidated, a shiver ran up her spine.

“Of course it’s a creepy country mansion. I don’t feel like I'm going to be murdered here at all.” Y/N exited her car, sample meal in her arms.

“One sign of a ghost and I'm gone.” She took a deep breath and raised her fist to knock, but the door cracked open before she had the chance to.

She half expected Lurch to answer, but instead it was a brunette woman. Barely visible through the few inches between the door and frame, her suspicious gaze laser focused on Y/N. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here to interview for the private chef position.”

The woman glanced down at the dishes in her hands then back up to her face, looking unimpressed. “Do you have proof of that claim? ID, resume?”

She blinked a few times trying to gauge if that was a serious request. Judging by the woman’s face, it was. Y/N struggled to pull out her license without dropping the food. She handed the documents over.

“Very good.” The woman welcomed her in. After closing the door, her demeanor changed. She turned to Y/N, a friendly smile on her face. “Welcome to the home of Harlan Thrombey. Renowned author and owner of Blood Like Wine publishing company,” she beamed with pride. “My name is Fran. Let me give you a quick tour before I show you to his office.”

Fran talked her ear off as she led her around the house of nightmares. Nearly every inch of space was filled with statues, odd figurines, and all manner of curiosities and surely cursed objects. Every room seemed to have its own library. Too many books to count, and not just his own. Y/N spotted many first editions from equally famous writers. She wondered if they were signed.

In the back of the house were a couple of german shepherds. Fran explained they were eight months old and still in training. “Lovable to us, but will tear the throat out of our enemies on command,” she reached her hand out, snatching at an imaginary foe.

The woman had quite the imagination. Or at least, Y/N hoped that's all it was. They circled around until they arrived at what she assumed was Mr. Thrombey's office.

Fran knocked twice, before opening the door. A kindly looking old man sat behind a cluttered desk. Y/N recognized him from the photo on the back of his novels.

Harlan rose and shook her hand, introducing himself.

“It's an honor to meet you, sir. My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

He gestured to a set of chairs on the other side of his desk, “Lovely to meet you, as well. Please take a seat.”

Her resume and license were handed to him. He dismissed his housekeeper and handed Y/N back her identification. “I believe this belongs to you, dear.” His eyes zeroed in on the containers in her hands. “Are those for me?”

“Yes, sir.” She placed them on his desk and prayed he didn't notice how her hand shook. “I have for you a mini beef wellington and a slice of hazelnut and raspberry roulade.”

Harlan eagerly opened the containers. “I missed lunch, so this is perfect timing on your part.” He took a small bite of the appetizer, nodding appreciatively. He began to ask her about herself.

“Well I completed the professional chefs program at The Cambridge School of Culinary Arts in January. I went on to a six month externship at Cedar Valley Resort in Bretton Woods. After that, I had a temp job as a private chef for the Van Doren family. They're usual chef was on maternity leave. And now I am looking for long term employment.”

“That’s all here on your resume. I want to know about the real Y/N. What are your dreams? What are your hobbies? Do you read? Are you a fan of my work?”

“I am, actually. I love an intriguing whodunit.” She noticed he didn't finish the wellington, which worried her. Did he not like it?

His inquisitive eyes studied her, “What is your favorite?”

Coming from the author, himself, this seemed like a loaded question. “I equally love Vulcan’s Den and Nick of Time. I still own copies of both that belonged to my mother.”

“Is this the reason you applied for the position?”

Y/N swallowed, but decided to be straight with him. “Yes and no. You see, competition in my field is fierce. It's an uphill battle just to get an interview at a halfway decent restaurant and...”

“And my glowing recommendation will get you through the door,” he finished for her.

She doesn't deny it, “Precisely.”

To her surprise, he grinned at her. “Well I certainly appreciate your honesty. I've had numerous fans posing as chefs, and chefs posing as fans and everything in between.” He takes a bite of the dessert, closing his eyes in bliss. He takes two more large bites, finishing it.

“Normally I would hire someone with more experience, but these,” points to the food, “definitely amped up your resume. My taste buds are simply waltzing. I'd have to be a fool to not hire you.”

“So, I have the job? Truly?”

He laughed, “How can I say no after you found my weakness; rich, absolutely sinful desserts.” He licked his fingers, before wiping them on his handkerchief. “You can start on Monday.” His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, “Desserts, hmm.” He paused to scribble something down.

Y/N couldn't see what he wrote. Was it a grade, a note about her, was it for a story? Was her dessert going to end up in his next book? What if he wrote it down as poisoned. The Poisoned Pastry. A story of sweet betrayal. No, no, don't assume. Let the master do his thing.

”Sorry about that. At my age, I have to write things down while they are still fresh or they're pfft gone. I became an octogenarian a week prior.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Now, back to the job. It will be Monday through Saturday, breakfast, lunch and dinner for just me. Plus the occasional Sunday night meal with my family. Five to ten people, depending. As well as the odd group holiday meals. Of which, you will be notified ahead of time.”

Harlan pointed to the empty containers. “I most definitely want more of what you’ve already made me. However, if my family asks, lie. Got that? My dearest, Linda in particular will be grilling you, so to speak. She worries about my diet, but I’m an old man, just let me enjoy things.”

“Understood, sir.”

He waved his hand, “No need for the formalities unless there is company. Call me Harlan.”

“Thank you, Harlan. I normally go by Y/N/N.”

“I think we are going to get along just fine, Y/N/N.” He stood, walking the few steps to open the door. The brunette woman crouched in the doorway, straightened herself, looking guilty for having been caught eavesdropping.

He chuckled, “Fran here will show you the kitchen. Feel free to make it your own. She will be doing the grocery shopping, so give her your daily list of required items. We have a variety of fridge and pantry staples to start you off.”

“She will also be helping with serving and cleaning up, as needed. For larger events, I will have a catering team come in, but I still would like you to run point.”

“Fran brings me my breakfast and lunch to wherever I happen to be, but dinner is always served at the family table. Speaking of family. I look forward to you meeting them all… Be prepared.”

Y/N looked at Harlan, a bit concerned at his tone, “You are making it sound like I'll need to come to work in a suit of armor.”

He shrugged, “Couldn't hurt.”

What the hell did I just sign up for?

Chapter 2

[nifolution]

I Quit Masterlist

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale / Reader

Summary: Ransom takes a special interest in Harlan’s new private chef

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, being drugged, undressed and tied up, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, threats, dry humping, masturbation, a bit of somno

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. Reader is said to have a facial piercing, your choice where. Takes place mid-November 2013. About 5 years before the movie. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.  

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (End)

[nifolution]

Update

It's been forever, I know. But my mind is my own worst enemy.

Anyways, here is a quick update. I am doing my best to post things that have been sitting in my wip folder for too long. Even if I'm not happy with them.

A knives out fic I wrote back when the movie came out (I know I know) is currently being posted on my main account, and will be transferred here as a reader insert once complete.

After that, I am going to try to start one at a time finishing things. I am trying very hard to get over my fear and constant rejection and just put my stuff out there.

For those of you that stuck around, thank you.

[nifolution]

My Tumblr User Awards

Like = participation trophy

Bare minimum engagement. I understand a like can be used as a bookmark, etc and that is fine to me. However, a lot of writers disagree. This is because likes do nothing on this site. Tumblr will die on likes alone. I personally don't mind them because it lets me know that my work is being read. That I'm not just throwing my work into an endless void to be seen by no one. So no hate for likes here.

Blank reblog = Bronze!

You are using Tumblr correctly. Reblogs are this sites lifeblood. It's how it works and what it needs. Sharing is caring and reblogging shares a writers hard work to others, so more engagement is possible. I respect a user's decision to reblog what they want. I would never punish those that don't. I wouldn't take away a user's choice of what they want to share on their own blog. Creating a side blog for reblogs is always a nice way to make both parties happy. Use the quick reblog option and it's as fast and easy as a like.

Comment = Silver!!

Yay engagement. Tell a writer what you thought, what you felt, what you liked, your favorite parts, your predictions, etc. Your screams, your anger, your tears. Even a simple emoji, keyboard smash or an "i loved this." We want it. But remember to be kind. There is no excuse for rude comments, or only demanding more. It's better to say why you want more. Writers need to know and it is fuel to keep writing.

Reblog with a comment = Gold!!!

The best, the elite, the bees knees. The writer is doing their happy dance. You are not only using the site properly by sharing their work, you are being the greatest by adding your thoughts, reactions, gifs, etc. You are showing your love and the writer and Tumblr community will love you right back. Nothing is more motivating and keeps writers happily creating, so you can keep enjoying.

Asks = Extra Credit!

More great engagement. Send more lovely thoughts, ask questions. I've never met a writer that didn't want to talk about their work. If they are taking requests, go for it and send one. Even if you are shy and use anon, asks are great as long as they are kind.

Recommendation lists = A Kiss on the Forehead!

These are great to see, and writers feel honored to be on them. Makes them feel warm and fuzzy. These take time and effort to make and are a great way to share blogs and stories. They are also a great resource to help other user's discover new writers.

*Don't forget to follow writing blogs and respect their blog rules. These are only my personal opinions on Tumblr user engagement. Many writers feel differently, and they have every right to block you if you do not respect their blog's guidelines.

[nifolution]

I’ve read your dirty secret and what you have for forgive me and I want to say first off amazing fucking story 😭 and second did you ever think to have the reader fall for Bucky?? And is this Ben just a regular Ben or like soldier boy Ben??? Cause then damn I get why she fell for him 🥴

Ha, funny enough, that is where I got the name Ben.

The original version of Forgive Me had Bucky as the new love, but I couldn't get it to feel right because of how much he ships Reader x Steve.

So I changed it, but couldn't decide who for various reasons regarding each characters flaws and positives. So "Ben" is a combination OC of Soldier Boy, Deadpool, and Moon Knight. Kinda the best parts of each.