request: Cold winters day....Ransom wants to wear his Wooly (Woolly?) jumper but can't find it so is just walking around shirtless but readers wearing it and is all cute and snuggly but as soon as reader sees him shirtless their like "i didn't do it"
pairing: ransom drysdale x fem!reader
word count: 598
warnings: implied smut, not proofread
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Ransom didn't know that when he asked you to be his girlfriend that he would be signing away his sweater collection to you. He had to admit, he was annoyed about it in the beginning. Suddenly all of his favorite clothes were going missing from his closet, leaving him with virtually nothing to wear. But, god, seeing you in his clothes? Oh, it riled something up in him that he didn't even think was possible.
Still, he liked to pretend that he was annoyed by it. He liked to make it a game. He'd hide his sweaters in places you wouldn't typically look and see how long it took for you to find them. And, as he looked around his closet, realizing that his favorite white cable knit had gone missing, he realized that you would always win this game.
But that didn't mean he couldn't have his fun with you, too.
So, instead of plucking another sweater to wear, he decided to forgo wearing a shirt entirely. And, for added effect, he tugged on a pair of grey sweatpants that he knew drove you wild before going off to find you.
It didn't take long. For some godforsaken reason, you loved eating cold foods in the winter. While other people were snuggling by the fire and drinking hot chocolate, you were wearing mittens as you ate ice cream. And that was exactly where he found you, in the kitchen, deciding that the rocky road that he just bought was going to be your next target.
He almost abandoned his plans right then and there.
Ransom always thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. But seeing you in his sweaters? And just his sweaters? You looked like a fucking goddess.
His brain short circuited as he stared at you, watching as the hem of the sweater rode up as you reached for the ice cream, exposing the lacy red panties you were wearing. He didn't know whether to go forward with his plans or to sneak up behind you and smack your ass, to relish in the quiet squeak! you'd left out.
But, finally, he decided to do what he had originally planned.
"Nice sweater you got there."
You froze mid-turn, the spoon hanging from your mouth, carton of ice cream gripped tightly, staring at him with wide eyes as you looked him up and down. Slowly, you pulled the spoon from your mouth and said, "I didn't do it."
He chuckled, taking a step towards you. He plucked the spoon and carton from your hands, shushing you when you whined about him taking your ice cream. His hands rested on your hips, tugging you closer to him, and he said, "Oh really? You didn't do anything?"
"Nope! Was just eatin' some ice cream until you rudely interrupted." you said, trying to wriggle out of his hold. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"
"Nuh uh," he said. "You're not goin' anywhere."
"Oh, no, I really should," you said, trying to use your cold hands to your advantage to try and shock him into letting you go. When that didn't work, you again tried to wriggle your way out. "I got ice cream to eat and you got to find a sweater to put on, so, really, we should just go our separate ways—"
"Hmm, maybe, but I think it would be a lot more fun if I just took your sweater instead."
"Oh?"
"Mhm. C'mon, let me convince you that I'm right," he said, tugging you out of the kitchen.
