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#ransom drysdale imagine
imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
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𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - poor little sleeping beauty (you) has a tough day, from finding out who she really is, and falling into a deep slumber. is the prince able to awaken her?
warning - smut, somnophilia, dubcon (all my characters consent), choking, spitting kink, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, wife kink, kidnapping, cursed.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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You were shocked to learn the truth, finding out you were a princess and that your real name wasn’t Briar Rose, you were told your parents had named you Y/n and that they had to send you off with the fairies because a woman named Maleficent cursed you. You had to take a few moments to collect yourself, learning that they were to take you back on your eighteenth birthday, which meant you were due to leave your home any moment now to go back to where your family supposedly lived. 
As the four of you began to head off, your mind was full, thinking about your family, the curse, and the man you had met earlier that day. Oh, he was so handsome. You were saddened to hear the news that you were to be betrothed the moment you got to the castle. You didn’t want to be married off to a man you did not know. It didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if you spoke to your parents, they would understand and let you be with the man in the woods. 
After the long walk, you had finally arrived at the palace, staring up at it with wide eyes, gobsmacked at the sheer size of it. The guards moved out of the way as you walked closer to the entrance, letting you in. Your blue dress that the fairies made as a birthday present clung to your body with each step. Small hands touched your arm, causing you to look down at Fauna. “We will have to leave you for a bit, my dear. We have some business to attend to before you are able to meet your parents.” 
You give a soft smile. “That is alright, Fauna. I’ll be okay.” You assure them, watching as they leave. You begin to look around, admiring the artwork that litters the walls. Suddenly, a wisp of light appears in front of you. Your mind starts to go fuzzy as it pulls you into a trance, and your legs begin to follow as the light moves away from you, leading you toward a secret panel that opens when you are near. You walk up the winding staircase and into the hidden room.
Maleficent’s voice fills the room, coaxing you. “Touch the spindle! Touch it, I say!” Her command fills your ears, taking over your mind, and you have no choice but to obey. Your mind had taken over your legs, causing you to walk over to it. Your hand lifts, finger pointed, before a soft gasp escapes you when the spindle pricks your finger, causing it to bleed. You fall, eyes slipping closed into a deep slumber, not knowing of the dangers that lie ahead. Maleficent cackles as she appears over your unconscious body. “Oh, what a dumb girl.” She smirks as she spies into your mind and sees you dreaming of a man. “Hmm, if you want that man so badly, I guess I could give him to you.”
It was too late when the fairies realised what had happened. They looked at each other with wide eyes. They quickly become their former selves, allowing their wings and magic to take over and lead them to where you are. They would never have expected to be met with you, knocked out into a deep slumber with the one who cursed you standing above you in the same room. Their hearts race as Maleficent looks at the three with a deadly smirk, knowing they wouldn’t be strong enough to stop her. 
“The three fairies! Flora, Fauna and…” Maleficent cocks her head to the side, “Merryweather, I’m guessing?” She waves her hand, scoffing. “Oh, well. I don’t care. I assume you came to get your girl? It is a shame. She would’ve done some good for the world.” She reaches down, running her fingers through your hair. “But, I’m willing to show the princess that the world isn’t so good and colourful. Goodbye.” With a wave of Maleficent’s hand, you and she disappear, causing the fairies to set off in a panic, frightened to tell your father, the king, the news. 
Maleficent lays you on a soft bed, watching you as you sleep. “M–Maleficent, my queen. T–the prince, we found him…” She turns, raising a brow, waiting for her henchman to spit it out. “It seems he is waiting for the princess at the cabin, h–he seems impatient.”
“Hmm, that sounds perfect. Bring him to me!” She waves her hand before looking down at you. “You’re going to have so much fun, little one, and instead of true love’s kiss.” She scrunches her nose as those words leave her lips, not believing in such a thing. “Let’s make it something more… Extreme.” A dark grin appears on her face, knowing what the prince would do once he saw you. Her crow told her how the two of you got along in the woods and how the man couldn’t stop staring at your soft breasts and plump arse. 
Ransom struggled against the henchmen, growling and swearing as they dragged him along. “Get your filthy paws off me! I’ll kill you for touching me! Don’t you know who I am!” The henchmen just shrug and huff, not caring. One of them grabs a cloth and stuffs it into the young prince’s mouth, wanting some quiet. They finally make it up to the room you are held in, throwing Ransom inside. 
“Ah, finally.” Maleficent walks over, tilting his head up with her finger underneath his chin. “Hmm, you are quite handsome.” Her eyes drag across his face, getting what you see in him. Ransom’s brows furrow, unable to speak with the cloth in his mouth, his eyes fall upon your sleeping form, and he begins to wonder what the hell is happening. “But, you are not for me… Princess Y/n continues to think of you, and as you can see, she is currently in a deep slumber.” Maleficent leans closer to his ear, whispering. “Why don’t you find a way to wake her up.” She cackles as she straightens and waves her hand, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
His binds and cloth disappearing along with her, Ransom grumbles, shaking his head. “Fucking witches.” He stands, brushing off his clothes, and his head lifts as he peers at you, eyes drifting down your body. “Huh, so you’re the princess I’m meant to marry.” He walks close, tapping the blanket with the tip of his fingers. “I was ready to fuck you as a mere peasant girl, but knowing that you are much more, it’s so much better.”
It’s as though your body knows he is near. Your nipples harden and slick gathers between your thighs, your dreams turning sexual and dirty. You shift in your sleep, letting out a soft whimper as you dream of the handsome man in the woods, bending you over the log and thrusting into your tight cunt. 
Ransom smirks as he watches you squirm. His cock hardens when he hears soft whimpers escape you. “Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so good, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He strips from his clothes, sighing as his cock springs free from his slacks, no longer feeling tight and suffocated. Ransom pulls the blanket away from your body, his cock twitching when his gaze lands on your dress, wondering if it could get any tighter. He slowly gets onto the bed and crawls on top of you, lifting your dress higher as he moves up your body. “So beautiful, and all mine.” He pampers you with kisses, kissing up your body until he reaches your face. 
Ransom groans when his leaking member connects with your bare cunt, and he grips his thick base, rubbing his swollen tip through your sopping folds. “Jesus, you’re so wet, sweetheart. What or who is making you so wet?” He raises his brow in jealousy, wondering who you could be dreaming of when he is here for you. “You know what? If you’re going to be a little slut in your dreams. Then I’m going to treat you like one.” Ransom growls, sick of competing with someone else when you should only be focused on him. He aligns his mushroom tip with your tight hole before thrusting in. His eyes close as he grunts, never having felt someone like you before. 
Sweet moans pass your lips, dreaming of the handsome man in the woods gently lying you onto a blanket on the ground, pressing his hips into yours as he buries himself deeply into you, making love to you, marking your skin with his hands and lips. Your back arches in your dreams, arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back. 
Ransom moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit, sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. You’re sweet walls are fluttering around me like crazy.” He buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your skin and thrusting harder and faster into your sweet honey pot. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Getting lost in how good you feel around his member, he hastily grabs a pillow and shoves it under your hips before gripping them, giving him leverage. “When you wake, I’ll continue to fuck you. I’ll fuck you every day, even after you become my wife. I’ll pump you full every single day and night. You won’t think of looking at another man when you have me.”
He nuzzles closer to you, pounding harder as he kisses your cheek, moving closer to your lips, his eyes slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. “You’re mine, my sweet Y/n. All mine.” The moment his lips connect with yours, magic explodes around the two of you. Your eyes fly open, arms wrapping around him and your back arches. Ransom smirks, tilting his head back as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. “Ah, my sweet little sleeping beauty is finally awake. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Do you feel me inside you? Fucking into you, claiming you?” He fucks into you deeper, hitting against the hidden spot inside you. Ransom cups your cheek, glaring down at you with lust-filled eyes. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. “You’re mine, understood?” 
You whimper, feeling yourself throb around his cock, never having experienced pleasure like this before. Your mind is cloudy, being pulled from your dream to see it come true with the man you’ve fallen for. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his soft flesh. “O–oh, it feels so good, my prince!” You scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to pound into that spot, allowing Ransom to spit directly into your mouth, smirking as you immediately swallow. 
Ransom moves his hand between you, rubbing and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. Enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his thick cock, he continues to pound into you, the hand that cups your cheek, moves to your throat and squeezes. “You’re going to cum for me, sleeping beauty, and then. I will pump you so full of my cum that it leaks out of you for months.” Your sweet moans fill the room, walls tighten around Ransom, your back arches, and you cum, your juices squirt out of you, covering everything. “Fuck, sweetheart.”
He captures your lips with his, thrusting harder and deeper until his cock twitches and his eyes slip closed. Ransom groans when his end approaches, burying himself deep inside you and emptying thick spurts of cum, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. He begins kissing down, resting on your neck, leaving soft kisses in his path. “My sweet little sleeping beauty.” Ransom lifts his head and stares deeply into your eyes, his softening cock still deep inside you, blocking his cum from leaking out. “You’re now mine forever.”
You hum, feeling your eyes begin to droop again. You would later learn not to fall in love with the first handsome man you laid your eyes upon. 
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babyjakes · 4 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | mutual masturbation
pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader
warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D
word count | 886
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it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭
it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”
and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it
he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕
"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life
you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"
it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him
your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole
ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲
you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you
as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs
"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲
you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"
your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.
he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"
"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly
"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more
"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command
"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌
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boxofbonesfic · 9 months
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,761
A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​
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To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—
But he has.
Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse. 
“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf. 
“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.
“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine. 
He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—
Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?
He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already  mastered.  Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin. 
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit. 
“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat. 
“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—
You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean. 
“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins. 
“Feels good not to have to pretend.” 
“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them. 
“Let me—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”
The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand.  You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party. 
The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand. 
“Sweetheart?” 
You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision. 
“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”
“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify. 
Ransom stares at you confusedly. 
“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from. 
“Tell me something about the fountain.” 
“The what?” 
“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”
“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.” 
This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing. 
“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric. 
“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”
Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the  long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat. 
Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.  
Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly. 
“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open. 
“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine. 
“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head. 
“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You  a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace. 
“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”
You nod wordlessly.
Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water. 
You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin. 
“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder. 
“W-what?”
“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you  watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see. 
“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink. 
“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed. 
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”
“I think before New Years, last year.” 
“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief. 
You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening. 
Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild. 
“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.
“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”
“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you. 
“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things. 
“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.” 
“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”
“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”
“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door. 
It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore
“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.” 
You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse. 
“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.” 
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”
“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment. 
“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”
You slap him. 
The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth. 
“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight. 
This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—
You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek. 
“Just let me go, Ransom—”
“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.” 
 “You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears. 
“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly. 
“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern. 
“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”
“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.” 
He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers. 
“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”
Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair. 
“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—” 
“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater. 
Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
to be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
Text
the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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ramp-it-up · 1 year
Text
All These Things and More
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Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)
Part of the Minx Series
Word Count: 2.8 K
Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.
A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.
I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.
You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.
Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through. 
Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.
Especially since he thought she looked just like you.
“Hey Goldennnn.”
He reached out for her and drew her onto his chest.
“How’s Daddy’s little girl this mornin’?’”
Ransom whispered his Boston drawl to his daughter, careful not to wake you up. It was only 5:30 AM.
“Bbbbbbbbbbbbb… DaDaDaDaDa.”
Even though she was blowing bubbles and climbing on his face, Ransom’s heart beat out of his chest at his daughter’s address.
“That’s right. Dada!” 
Ransom whispered excitedly. He smiled at her and decided she needed some new diamond earrings, the ones in her ears were too small. As he lifted her, he also decided that she needed to be changed.
Ransom looked over to you to make sure you were still sleeping, then, he eased out of the bed and managed to get her down the hall to her nursery to change her diaper and sit down in the rocker after warming a bottle of breastmilk that you kept in the mini fridge in her room. 
Ransom was the only one who could get her to take a bottle, otherwise, you breastfed her exclusively, with a few baby foods, even at 8 months old. 
Golden got sleepy right away after taking most of the warm bottle, and Ransom cleaned her lips with the burp cloth and gazed at her sleeping face for a while, before putting her on his chest and daydreaming of your wedding the previous year. 
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You got the big June wedding of your dreams, despite Ransom wanting to elope. And it was outside, which really sucked because his fucking allergies made Ransom tear up just as you were walking down the aisle.
Your insipid little friends were always talking about how star studded the wedding was, but all Ransom remembered was you in your stunning dress and the adventure of making love to his wife that night.
You had him sex starved after depriving him for a month, and let’s just say that he’d had to pay off some of the hotel staff. You probably got pregnant that night, as much cum as there was everywhere.
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Ransom was awakened by a flash going off because you were snapping pictures.
“Sorry Ran.”
You whispered and grinned at your man. He was such a good father. And you knew he loved you, he even told you so when he felt especially secure. Usually after you let him do everything that he (and you) wanted in bed. 
Ransom rubbed his eyes and stood up to gently put Golden in her crib. He watched her for a minute and then walked over to you.
“I told you about that, Minx.”
“But you look so cute when you’re being Golden’s dad. Makes me want you more, Daddy.”
You pouted up at him and his heart melted. He loved him some you, especially since you’d become his wife and mother to his child. But he tried to look tough, which only seemed to make you light up more.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Minx.”
Ransom bent down and hauled you up over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap as you giggled your way down the hall.
“I swear, If you wake her up….”
He deposited you on the bed as you let down the straps of your nightgown.
“I appreciate you feeding her, but what am I gonna do with all this milk now? I’m so uncomfortable. Need some relief Ran, baby…”
You looked up at him with those huge doe eyes and those huge, full tits, and his dick got hard.
Ransom always loved your tits, but they were huge with weight right now and pointing right at him.
He was super excited to help out, but he rolled his eyes to feign disinterest.
“Shit. I have to do everything around here. Have to be the Nanny, have to be the breast pump.”
You started to cover up, knowing this game too well.
“Sorry, Ran.”
Ransom saw your pout, sighed and climbed into bed with you, reaching for you and pulling you near.
“Come over here, Minx.” 
The look on Ransom’s face betrayed his need as he reached for you. You smiled at him, ready to enjoy a morning in his arms. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he started to relieve you with those lips of his, and his hands, oh his hands, they relieved you in other ways.
After Ransom put you to sleep and had a quick shower, Golden woke up and Ransom hurried into her room.
A father’s work was never done.
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That was the week before Thanksgiving, over a month ago, and it was the last time he felt you had time for him. Your first Christmas together as a married couple, you were six months pregnant, and the Holidays were spent with Ransom cussing out his family and friends who accused you of trying to trap him with a baby.
“Fucking idiot, can you fucking count?” Was his favorite refrain.
Ransom didn’t tell them that you didn’t trap them with this baby, you’d blackmailed him into a relationship using  a recording of him blackmailing you with revenge porn months before the wedding. 
You two also spent the Holidays eating and lazily fucking every night, morning, and any other time you got your greedy little hands on his dick. He was in heaven, the center of your little newlywed world.
This holiday season had been both the best, and the worst, for Ransom. It was going to be Golden’s first Christmas, and, as a true Thrombey woman (you included) she was fascinated with shiny things.
His little girl had his eyes and your smile and brown skin, causing everyone to stop and stare who saw her. An added bonus was that when she was born, his parents stopped being such assholes, because Golden had everyone wrapped around her teeny tiny little finger. 
This Christmas, you were a woman possessed. Well, more than usual.
The second Thanksgiving was over, because Ransom would not permit it before then, you went into full Golden’s First Christmas mode.
Friday morning, Ransom rolled over and both you and Golden were gone. The bed was empty, and cold.
Nanny number one, Lina, had Golden and was bottle feeding her in her room. Ransom was livid.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Ransom made the poor woman jump, but she managed a smile anyway.
“Oh, Mr. Hugh. Mrs. Drysdale said that you would be thrilled that someone else could feed the baby. Surprise.”
Ransom was boiling mad on the inside.
“It’s Ransom. Mr. Drysdale to you, Lina,” Ransom spat as he watched his baby girl giggle in Lina’s arms. 
She pulled off the bottle to say, “Dadadadada,” as if admonishing him. He leaned over, rubbed her hair and kissed her forehead, noting her sleepy eyes.
“Make sure that you burp her before you put her down.”
Ransom put on his robe and slippers over his silk pajamas and padded downstairs, expecting to find you there. What he did find was the chef, Angie, in the kitchen and a note from you.
You had gone shopping with Linda, of all people. Ransom was left alone. So he moped around the house in between playing with Golden all day until you got home, loaded down with tons of Christmas decorations.
He was surly at the dinner table while you rattled off your holiday plans, but you didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and by the time Ransom was ready for you to make it up to him, he found you and Golden knocked out in the bed.
It was this way for a month. Shopping, deliveries and installation of lights, trees, decorations, parties and playdates, everything that you thought Golden would love. But no nookie for Daddy. And you even had the nerve to begin to wean Golden, which meant your milk supply was getting low.
Ransom was someone even the Grinch would think would need to lighten up.
And the presents. 
The entire first level was filled with presents for Golden. Ransom bought out FAO Schwarz for her. And the diamond district in New York was well compensated for dealing with Ransom on his search for the most flawless matching Mommy/Daughter diamonds.
But for some inexplicable reason, he missed you.
You were with him every night, next to him in bed, but he didn’t have your attention. It was bad enough that you spent so much time on the baby, but that was only right. You were his soul mate. Even though he’d loved you madly, when you became mother to his child, it seems he loved you more.
But now, you were obsessed with being Mrs. Claus, not Mrs. Drysdale. And that pissed Ransom off. Big time.
Ransom was still a grumpy bug when the families gathered on Christmas Eve for dinner and stayed over on Christmas morning to watch Golden “open” her presents.
He wasn’t telling people to eat shit, but you knew he was unsettled. But you didn’t know that he had a plan.
On Christmas night, after Golden was in bed, Ransom switched off the Christmas carols that had been piped throughout the house.
You went up to him, full of mirth and quipped, “My house, my rules, the Christmas music stays on.”
Ransom rolled his eyes and didn’t laugh, clearly done with being in the Christmas spirit.
“What’s wrong, Ran?”
“Nothing. Just got to get away from this nonsense. I’m leaving.”
Panic filled you. You thought he finally had enough.
“But Ransom, why? Will you leave me and Golden?”
“Oh shut up Minx, I’d never leave Golden. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag.”
You were filled with relief, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push back.
“Where are we going, Ransom? I can’t just…”
“You can, and you will. Golden had a great Christmas. She hardly knew what was going on, but she loved it. Now it’s my turn.”
You loved it when Ransom pouted and was needy, but you tried to reason with him.
“How long will we be gone Ran….?”
“Am I your husband?”
Ransom yelled at you. For the first time since Golden was born.
You were shook; Ransom was really emotional.
“Of course, but…”
“But nothing. Your mother is here, she’d be thrilled to fight Linda for the privilege to watch Golden. And you’ve almost weaned her. It’s perfect. You need to spend some time attending to your wifely duties. Which means you pay attention to me.”
Ransom wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still adamant.
You fought the urge to laugh at Ransom because he had a point. You’d virtually ignored him. You decided to go with the flow.
“Well, what do I need to pack? Is it cold wherever we’re going?”
“I’m sure it is. Just pack enough for a day or two. We’ll go shopping when we get there, that is if you’re not too much of a cockslut and can have me not filling all your holes for a couple of hours…”
You shivered at the delicious promise. And you were ready to go right now. You reached for his pants. Ransom pushed you away.
“Save it, we’ve got to leave in an hour. Be ready.”
Ransom walked into his closet and left you reeling. 
You met Ransom in the car in 56 minutes, only packing three Hermes bags to take along. You were shifting in your seat, wet already, wondering what adventures awaited you ahead.
Ransom spared you a cursory glance, but was silent most of the way.
“Stop squirming, it’s annoying,” was the only thing he said to you.
But you looked down and noticed that he was tapping his finger on his thigh. And that his pants were very tight around his crotch area. It was then that you realized that you missed him as much as he missed you.
“Sorry Ran, It’s just that I don’t have any panties on, and this sweater dress feels kinda good…”
You crossed and uncrossed your legs, capturing Ransom’s eyes which went from the supple leather of your brown boots, up the hem of your dress that matched the sweater that he had on. You could see him gulp and lick his lips. He shifted and then replied.
“I don’t give a fuck, calm your ass down and stop moving.”
“Yes, Ran.”
The look that you gave him, coupled with the faux show of submission had him almost feral. He leaned forward and banged on the partition.
“Speed it up, asshole!”
You smirked in your seat as Ransom tried to spur the driver on.
“You seem tense, Ran. Anything I can do to help.”
You put your hand on his knee.
“You should do something, since you got me all wound up. Didn’t want to jack off and spill my seed down the shower. Since we got married, you said it would only be used to fill you up.”
You rubbed his thigh.
“I’m sorry, Ransom. Can.. can you let me swallow it down my throat?”
Ransom didn’t respond, although you were squeezing his dick through his pants. You took that as a yes and got down between his legs, unzipping him and bring out his large dick.
Ransom looked down on you and placed one hand on your head and the other found your nipple through the dress. You weren’t wearing a bra either.
You spit on his dick and started pumping him, licking your lips as he stared you down.
“No underwear at all. Just live to get fucked. You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You still love to be a freak. Suck my dick, Minx. Not too sloppy now.”
Ransom leaned back and thrust his bobbing and weaving dick up at you as your pussy wept and your mouth watered.
“Yes, Daddy.”
You nodded and opened your mouth, deep throating him, red lipstick leaving marks on his throbbing member as you slowly pulled off.
“Fuck, Minx.”
You bobbed on his cock, choking and coughing and spluttering, while managing to keep everything neat and playing with his balls. 
“So, so, so, good with that hot little slut mouth, Minx. Fuck! Take it all.”
You loudly gulped as he came, causing him to pulse extra spend down your throat. 
“Thank you for the fluff, Daddy.”
Ransom just grunted and zipped up as the car pulled down the road to the airstrip where the Thrombey Gulfstream was parked.
You turned to him with glee, clapping your hands.
“A flight? Where are we going?”
“Paris. Now get your ass on that plane.”
“Yay! Thank you Daddy.”
You kissed his cheek and got out of the car when the driver opened the door, ready to fly, while Ransom watched you with a warm feeling and rubbing his cheek. Damn, he was whipped.
After you boarded the plan, and toasted with champagne, Ransom told you of the plan to stay in that one hotel you loved from your honeymoon. The one with the view of the Eiffel Tower and the excellent room service.
“That’s great Ran. Because you’re right, you’re not gonna want to leave this pussy alone.”
Ransom’s eyes changed as you go up to enter the private bedroom on the plane. When he joined you in the room that was filled with a king sized bed, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back, legs open.
Ransom pushed a few buttons on the keypad by the door to the bedroom cabin, and up popped a view of you sitting on the bed, displayed on the television above the door. Your eyes watched the monitor as Ransom stood before you and pushed you back down on the bed.
Ransom took your boots off, then pushed the dress up your body with his huge, warm hands, skimming your thighs up to your breasts. He pulled the garment off of you, then grabbed your hair for a searing kiss while he roughly groped and pinched your nipple. 
You moaned at the delicious pain and at his passion, trying to tear his clothes off faster than he could disrobe as he went back down your body.
“Gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck this weeping cunt, filling you to the brim with my cum, Minx. Then I’m gonna take that ass. And if we have time on this seven hour flight, we’ll do it all over again.”
“Yes, Ransom.” 
You pulled his hair as you watched him eat you out in high definition on the monitor, then flicked your eyes over to the camera to make sure the red light was on.
“All these things and more…”
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You know what I’m gonna say…reblog? Please!
Read the next part: You Up?
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navybrat817 · 5 months
Text
Temporary Job
Pairing: Soft!Dark Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader
Summary: Your job with Ransom is only temporary. Or so you think.
Word Count: 250
Warnings: Implied DUBCON/NONCON, possessive behavior, Ransom Drysdale being an asshole (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 2! Character: Ransom Drysdale. Length: 250 words max. Prompt: "Go on. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me." ❤️ @stargazingfangirl18, I may need to expand on this and have him truly manhandler her! Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Tears filled your eyes as you read the email. Another job rejection. This one hadn’t given you the chance for an interview. Just like the last one.
You stiffened and quickly tucked your phone away as Ransom walked into his home office. “Excuse me, Hugh. I mean, Mr. Drysdale.”
“Let me guess?” Ransom smirked as he shut and locked the door. “You got rejected? Again? Probably because you were too busy looking at your phone instead of cleaning my house.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Cut the bullshit. I'm not a fucking idiot,” he snapped, his usually handsome face twisted in a scowl. “You think I don’t know that you’ve been looking for other jobs?”
You caved under his sharp gaze and wondered how he found out. “It isn’t personal,” you said, refusing to tell him that you were uncomfortable in his presence. “But this was a temporary job and-”
“After the calls I made, no one will hire you,” he cut you off, eyeing you like you were a piece of meat as tears began to fall. “And you can call me Ransom from now on.”
You screamed when he bent you over the desk a minute later, even though no one was around for miles to hear. You promised you wouldn’t tell if he let you go. You may have even said you hated him when he laughed.
“Go on. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me. But you aren’t going anywhere, pumpkin. You’re mine now.”
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Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be good to you. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Ransom Drysdale Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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biteofcherry · 5 months
Note
Okay, I lied. It's me again! 🫠🤤🥵
Since Kindergarten Teacher!Ari Levinson got paired up with a nice Aunt to a cute niece, what kind of pairings would the following have in that same Kindergarten School? How would they meet up and how would they hook up?
1) Administration Officer!Lloyd Hansen - He's also in-charge of the Secretaries, Nurses, Receptionist, etc.
2) Maintenance Coordinator!Curtis Everett - He's in-charge of the Bus Drivers/Supervisors, Utilities, Security Guards, etc.
3) Principal!Steve Rogers - He's in-charge of Academics and Administration
4) Accountant!Bucky Barnes - crunching numbers
5) Public Relations Officer!Ransom Drysdale - includes Marketing
6) CEO/KG Consultant!Andy Barber - He's the head honcho
7) Kindergarten Teacher!Nick Fowler
I don't know if you're aware, but I've been naming you evil goblin Anon. Turns out the goblin is occasionally a softie, who doesn't only want to see me suffer 😜
In reference to kindergarten teacher Ari.
Under the cut because my reply turned out long. Also some of these are fucking hilarious 😂 really, better not be drinking when you read it, especially Lloyd and Nick 🤣
Lloyd - of course he's in charge of all the secretaries, receptionists and nurses, I bet he has a different one for every day of the week (weekends included) 😎 He likes to undo buttons on women's clothes, but loves to push buttons even more. And what a better opportunity than meeting with an OSHA inspector! In reality, Lloyd makes sure everything is perfect when it comes to regulations, nothing needs to be improved, but he just loves the faces you make when he plays a careless asshole. His smirk when you stare at him, unsure if he was joking or being serious about leaving some wires for the kids to play with. At the end of inspection Lloyd makes a comment that usually after being poked and probed at the doctor's he gets a lollipop, but what you'll give him instead after your probing 🤣 Lloyd instantly knows he hit the jackpot with you, when he said in a low tone "I've never violated OSHA regulations at work, but I can violate you a bit later, if you want me to, Sunshine" and you moaned.
Curtis - Your catering company is newly hired to prepare meals for the kids of that kindergarten. The staff can also get the meals, but you've noticed Curtis never joins others at the time of meal. You've made some inquiries, if perhaps his meal wasn't paid in advance, but it turned out it was, he just ate it much much later (apparently after everyone was gone). So one day, after helping out dishing out all the food to hungry kiddos and the staff, you take Curtis' portion and go around looking for him. You find him in the far corner of the playground, sitting in the sun and eating a small sandwich. Turns out, Curtis avoids shared meals, because he's aware the kids are a bit scared of him (he's big, dressed in dark clothes which often get dirty from all the maintenance work he does, and has some visible scars). So he eats alone and later takes his catering portion back home. Somehow, since that day, you end up sharing lunch with Curtis. And one day he asks, if you'd maybe like to also eat dinner with him. In a restaurant.
Steve - gets me, because I said so 😏 Seriously, tho. Steve ends up with a doctor/nurse. It's a completely outside of kindergarten meeting, however it's because of the kindergarten. Steve ends up in your ER after getting into a fight with one of the fathers (it was a complete mess, Andy almost went completely gray because of it). When he tells you he got into a fight you almost roll your eyes, because you're so done with aggressive men. But then he mentions he punched a kid's father after learning he was abusing his kids. And he didn't care if he was going to lose his job, he doesn't tolerate any bullies, but especially ones hurting children. It wasn't a part of medical treatment, but you were ready to suck his dick right then and there. Instead, you offered him lunch (and went down on him afterwards...)
Bucky - he's a nerdy, focused, hot as fuck cutie who ends up with a fellow cute, nerdy accountant. You managed to get into kindergarten's accountant on internship, though they usually hire only Bucky. He's half your colleague, half mentor and 100% the hero of your needy dreams. There's occasional flirting, but Bucky won't cross the line as long as you're an intern. So you spend your working hours being dutiful, but also talking over your passions or new discoveries, or funny stories. You kinda meet Bucky's sister, because she tends to call at least once a week and he just puts her on speaker - which led to you occasionally joining their conversations. Then in the evening you lie in bed and get yourself off, imagining Bucky. Then your internship ends and it's almost heartbreaking that you won't get to see him daily. Bucky asks if you'd like to do a small send-away, which ends up just the two of you in a nice restaurant and then a stroll and ice cream, and then you losing count of your orgasms.
Ransom - I never even thought kindergartens have PR officers. If it's a private one then I get it, I guess. But I don't think Steve would run a private one, so we just going to assume Ransom does marketing for them as an annoying favor (while also having his main job for a different company). Still, pro-bono or not, Ransom is adamant on maintaining his level of professionalism, which means his level of snobbish. You're a single mom who is very engaged and critical. Steve doesn't have to rein Ransom in, because you're there, marching into his office with complaints about making the new website of the affordable kindergarten look as if it was for upper class only. There are a few other occasions when you clash with him, until the annual kids' photoshoot comes. You're ready to argue with Ransom again, expecting him to organize some snobbish royal type of stiff photoshoot, but instead it's a carefree, happy chaos at a mini zoo. And Ransom is there in simple jeans and softest looking sweater, holding a fucking baby goat. You bluntly propose him sex, because you really really felt like fucking him. What starts as a few hot booty calls turns into something more serious.
Andy - poor Andy needs someone to help him survive this kindergarten from hell that he's running. The kids are great, but his staff is causing him gray hair 😂 You meet Andy when you write your dissertation and set up a meeting with him to talk about economics in educational systems. During your interview Andy notices that while you ask very smart questions, you seem bored by it all. It's quite unprofessional, but you admit to him that you chase your degree, because you always thought you want to make a big career. But the last few years, especially since you've been visiting some kindergartens when doing research, you've found yourself longing after that - having kids, caring for them and for a household. You blurt out to Andy that you get so very excited about doing decorations and baking for the holidays and if you could that would be your daily reality. It hits a certain spark in Andy's housewife kink, but he simply comments that you can always make that dream come true after getting your degree. He also asks you to give him a call when your paper is finished. And you actually do. You're so proud and happy (including being happy that it's over), then Andy invites you to dinner. Few months later you end up married and pregnant and happy to stay at home.
Nick - first of all, when I thought of Nick as a teacher the only thing that came to my mind was:
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🤣🤣🤣
seriously, I bet he's the one teaching kids about secondary locations
So I went with that thought. Nick is a teacher, but not of one group of kids. He's hired to do safety drills and teach how to call an ambulance, or what to do if you know something bad is happening to another kid. He's also there when groups go on trips. But he occasionally can be too cool about it, aka too brusque. Kids love it, but you - a fellow teacher - try to keep him in line. At a kindergarten's funfair, where Nick helps kiddos throw balls to dunk principal Rogers, you eat too much funnel cake (well, you tell yourself later it's because of all the sugar) and drag Nick into an empty classroom for a quickie (insert a joke about taking him to a secondary location🤣)
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anika-ann · 6 months
Text
Little Miss Red (R.D.)
Type: blurb, one-shot, drabble (for me it's drabble-length okay)
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader          Word count: 1800
Summary: Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight.
When you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.
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Warnings: NSFW FILTH, 18+, smut!!! I mean it. Filth, y’all. Fingering, oral sex. Written in Ransom’s voice, so language and greyish lizard brain. Hints of degradation, praise kink and innocence kink.
A/N: this is COMPLETELY on @chase-your-dreams-away who claimed she has no time to write it after just throwing the plot bunny out here with @murdock-and-the-sea supporting her.
A/N: divider by amazing @firefly-graphics; the title of the fic does not refer to dd/lg dynamics nor the actual body proportions of the reader
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Ransom knew he was going to have fun with you the moment you walked through the door.
A little unsteady on your feet, but deeply embarrassed expression coating your face when you stumbled and swiftly righted yourself; unsure on your high heels, not drunk out of your mind. Little red dress hugging your ass and not much else lower, the hem riding up higher than midthigh as it had probably been intended, your hands quick to remedy it. Cheap make-up which he could spot a mile away, a courtesy of being the child of small-business-loving mother.
You looked so out of place in the luxurious club and so out of your debt that Ransom knew he wanted to play cat and mouse with you.
Except you were definitely a kitten; there was no arguing it later when you nervously tasted the head of his cock, shy kitten licks turning into a small purr around his head when you tried to wrap your lips around him, clearly doing so for the first time.
He knew that was what you were looking for when you came in. He was good at reading people – that was what made him so good at his game. Your sinfully red lipstick spoke for itself and he predicted that the night was going to end up with that colour smeared all over him, with mascara running down your cheeks. He had you blinking up at him with tender wonder and want with just a few sweet words and lured you in into the private saloon with a promise of a good time and being a gentleman.
When his mouth found yours after two minutes of idle meaningless chitchat, you had smiled contentedly into the kiss. Your breath quickened as soon as his tongue pushed between your lips, a silent squeak into his mouth – but leaning into his touch eagerly, heart like a cute little hummingbird – when his hands started wandering to your breasts, so prettily wrapped in the crimson dress. Yes. You might be of limited experience and playing coy, but you came here for one thing and Ransom was happy to give it as long as he got to take from you much more.
You responded to even the faintest touch. When he ran his fingers through your folds over the absurdly thin excuse for an underwear, you were already soaking and fuck, the needy whine that escaped your swollen lips when he circled your puffy nub… it almost made him cum in his damn pants. He was going to eat you up.
If he wasn’t so determined to see your red mouth around him, he’d take your cunt. She was sucking his fingers right in, greedy for more, and yet it was almost as tight as if you were a virgin and was just as sensitive. He’d know; he had taken plenty. He loved stealing their innocence, ruining them for other men. He breathed in the power he gained when he was the first to claim that territory, all warm, wet and so damn snug; having them cry his name as their pain, that delicious pain he both caused and took away, blended into pleasure and pleas for more. Breathy. Needy. Begging so sweet and filthy, obscenities spilling from those good girl lips that had trembled a bit at the size of his cock and yet took it so well.  
You asked for more too, weak voice coming out in gasps as he stuffed the third finger in, the squelch of your juices filling the space and sending blood straight under his belt. By the time you were trapping his fingers in with how hard he made you cum, he was ready to burst the second you’d take him to your throat. It was a thrilling game of control and self-control; and he’d always win.
You were a fast learner. After paying attention to the head, you took him in and sucked experimentally, eyes fluttering shut when he placed his big hand on your nape, encouraging you to take more. And so you did. Fast learner; eager learner. Ransom loved them eager to please him, especially when they were first timers, face all flushed at the mere suggestion of sucking him off at first. Now? Your nose was on his pubic bone, hair ruffled from how he gripped you close for his tip to brush your throat, your pretty cheap make-up running, lipstick all where he needed it.
As a bonus, you clawed your hands on him all over; over his thighs, over his ass, pushing away and pulling closer, your hips bucking forward in search of friction. And fuck if that didn’t get him going; his Little Miss Red enjoyed the hell out of sucking a cock and choking at it, gagging and grabbing at him as if she didn’t feel him deep enough. Who would have thought.
“That’s it, kitten, that’s it, take my load…” he coaxed you and caressed your hair with his free hand, lost to the vibration around him when you hummed in agreement, purring like a little obedient affection-hungry kitten indeed.
“Oh baby, look at you, a good little girl acting like such a whore for a big cock, hm? Fucking love that virgin mouth. Look at the mess you’re making of yourself for me.”
You had. You struggled to swallow and breathe, saliva pooling and escaping your mouth but damn, you were so excited to do better, holding onto his ass, his inner thighs, trying to brush your weepy core against his shin to earn some of that friction you so obviously craved.
Your fingers stroked over his balls and he spilled down your throat with a satisfied groan, fingers in your hair flexing to keep you there and swallow it all as you coughed and sputters, more black streaks painted your pretty face, throat spasming with a choked sound.
You curiously left him in your mouth as he softened, that little experimental lick almost enough for him to get hard again. He pulled you up and walked back to the couch to tug you into his lap, claiming your mouth with his own, tasting his victory in the salty tang on your tongue. What a sweet picture you made; a fucked out mess, eager for more, innocence ruined. He almost took a photo to make the euphoria last longer.
But you got shy again, all wide-eyed, when he pulled out a wipe from his breast pocket, spitting a bit to clean your face up from the worst smudges.
“Told you I’d be a gentleman, didn’t I, kitten? Can’t have you walk around the club like this, everyone would know what you’ve been up to,” he smirked, cock twitching at your meek thank you and the little spark in your eye that told him that you might like that. You might enjoy other people knowing what was in your mouth and now in your belly, wear your ruined cute face like a badge of honour.
Fuck, he could keep you. If he only cared enough for the shit that came with keeping just one girl at his arm. Keeping anyone, really.
Your legs were a little wobbly after he tested you were wet for him again and you buckled into his touch, but he sent you walking out with your purse all alone, satisfied for the night – or at least half of it. Still sprawled on the couch, he tucked himself in and gathered his breath and composure before he returned to the few bearable members of his fraternity fraction. They hit up a club every once in a while, a little hunting trip for pussy. The one who’d score first during the night out paid for the drinks.
Ransom’s smirk widened as he stepped back into the main room. He had no doubt he was the winner tonight; that feeling was damn worth the few hundred bucks he’d pull out of his Valentino-
The smirk slipped from his face when all his palm was the fabric of his empty pocket, his lips parting with mute shock, anger flaring up in an instant.
“Son of bitch-“
His head snapped up, instinctively searching for you; and finding you by the entrance again. You smiled at him sweetly, one corner of your sinfully red lips higher in a smirk as you waved his wallet at him. He froze mid-step.
Blowing him a cheeky kiss, you dropped your timid demeanour like a paper-thin mask, letting it drift towards the floor as slowly as you sunk to your knees for him.
An act. He had fallen for a cheap fucking act. You were no first timer; you were far from shy, apparently.
With bitter clarity, he recalled your hands clawing at his ass when he had thought he had it all under his control, including you, as you struggled to breathe. Your throat spasmed so sweetly, showing him heaven, while he dragged you to hell.
Or he had believed so. Now, watching you disappear behind the door as if you had been nothing but a fever dream, it was easy to see it was the other way around; or maybe you were both going to hell already.
A fist bumped into his shoulder, laughter of his wannabe friends reaching his ears.
“Well, well, well, looks like someone already scored tonight,” Harold howled, cackling as other guys booed and whistled. “Drinks are on Drysdale tonight, y’all!”
Oh Ransom would be drinking tonight, alright. Son of a bitch. That little, little bitch.
“She stole my wallet,” Ransom muttered, barely audible, still hypnotizing the door as if you were to come back. Yeah right.
“Wait what? Dude! You gotta block your credit card and call the cops before she buys a fucking Ferrari at your expense or something! Come on!”
The outrage in his Bryan’s voice snapped Ransom from his stupor, his head slowly turning to the man who spoke the sound advice.
The image of the check Little Miss Red buying a luxury sports car just as red for his money. It should strike him with terror. It should make his blood boil. It should make him want to grab your cute little neck and choke the life out of you.
But his surprise and exasperation gradually blended into the strangest feeling of pride.
You participated in his game of cat and mouse; you were the kitten. You were the cat.
You won fair and square even as both of you played more than dirty.
He could respect that.
“Nah. I’ll let her have it for a bit. It’s kinda like having a sugar baby…” Ransom mused, shrugging it off. “When she least expects it, I’m gonna find her and make her show how sorry she is. …or maybe make her my sugar thing for real. I mean… those lips looked really pretty around my dick after all.”
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Mics masterlist
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Yeah, the stealing the wallet bit and Ransom kinda respecting the reader for it was the “innocent remark” @chase and @murdock came with and my brain went hggggnnnn, because yeah, he would.
Thank you for reading. I'm gonna go bath in holy water, excuse me.
(the convo that inspired this filth... we know he would)
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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months
Text
Fluffcember Day 14 | Popping your cherry
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Pairing | Roommate!Experienced!Ransom Drysdale x Roommate!Virgin!Fem!Reader
Word count | 1.9K
Summary | You're just coming home from the worst date, but it's good that your roommate, Ransom, is there to cheer you up. After a long talk with him, you confess you've only been looking for someone willing to take your virginity, and that's when Ransom steps in and is more than happy to help you do just that.
Rating | Mature (M)
Warning(s) | Use of a pet name (Sweets), soft!Ransom, Reader's age is mentioned once.
Angst | Light angst, Reader went on a bad date.
Smut | Taking virginity, fingering, protected sex, lots of praise.
A/n | This one-shot is written for day 14 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. I always have a blast when writing for Ransom, so I can't wait to see what you all think of this! Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one 🎄
Events Masterlist | Roommate AU | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Date gone wrong | @anyfandomkinkbingo
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: The owner
Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist | Read on AO3
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Honestly, you're not entirely sure where you went wrong during your date because you were having fun. More than him, apparently.
Because when you offered to go to one of your places, he made a weak excuse about his cat or something and stormed off.
So now, here you are, in a taxi back to your apartment, still frustrated that seemingly no one wants to help you with your problem.
You're about to finish college, and you're still a virgin. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but you feel like you've been missing out on a fantastic experience based on how everyone around you always talks about it.
What you should have seen, however, is that the one person closest to you is more than willing to help you out if you ask. Your roommate, Ransom, has been there each time to pick you up after your dates have gone wrong, and it's killing him.
''Hi Sweets, how was it?'' Ransom asks as you walk in the door, but you're too ashamed to tell him how it went. Again.
Instead of answering Ransom, you storm off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you before slipping off the sad excuse you call a dress and putting on some sweats and one of Ransom's sweaters.
When your hair is in a messy ponytail, and your make-up is off, you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud sigh, and as if he could sense it, Ransom knocks on your door.
''Can I come in? I brought your favorite tea,'' Ransom says, his voice soft and gentle, which warms you from the inside. Despite that, you want to curl up into a ball, never to be seen by anyone ever again.
''Go away!'' you say, and keeping yourself from breaking down is challenging. Tears are fighting their way out, and you manage to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the worst of the sob.
''Alright, I'm coming in,'' he says, swinging the door open, quickly walking over to your bed and putting the cup of tea and a small bowl of your favorite chocolates onto your nightstand.
''Hey, what's going on? C'mere,'' he says as he sits on your bed and pulls you into his lap. He's seated with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of himself.
His left hand is resting on the side of your head as you cry with long sobs against his chest, his right hand rubbing soft circles on your waist and hip to calm you down a little bit.
''It's okay, Sweets, I'm here with you. You're okay,'' he whispers in your hair as he keeps placing soft kisses in your hair to reinforce his words, effectively calming you down.
After nearly 30 minutes, you've finally calmed down enough, and you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, sniffling a few times before removing your head from his chest and looking at him.
''Hi beautiful girl,'' Ransom says with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Even when you feel like an absolute mess, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and he's lucky that you're here in his arms.
''I'm not beautiful,'' you mumble, but Ransom laughs softly, his white teeth exposed as you hear the chuckle escape his lips.
''You are beautiful, Sweets. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that says a lot because I have seen many of them. But none of them compare to you and your beauty,'' he tells you.
He strokes a few loose hairs behind your ear, and his knuckles slide over your jaw as he pulls his hand back. He leaves a trail of goosebumps behind, and a shiver runs down your spine.
''Are you willing to tell me what's on your mind?'' he asks, his eyes shooting from yours to your plump lips and back. He can never get enough of your beauty, and he will always get lost in the color of your eyes.
''Men are stupid,'' you say as you let yourself drop against his chest again, with a deep sigh this time. His arms wrap around you, and you pull your knees up to your chest so he can hold you close.
''Except you, of course, you're not stupid,'' you quickly say, and Ransom chuckles.
''I'm glad you said that; I almost started to worry!'' he jokes, a genuine laugh forming deep inside his chest, once again warming you from the inside out.
''This guy I went on a date with is stupid, though,'' you sigh, and Ransom tilts his head to look at you with a quirked brow, wondering for more information.
''I was asking if we should go here or to his place because I enjoyed myself, and I thought he did too, but he made up some shitty excuse about his cat, and here we are…'' you tell him, and Ransom pulls you a little tighter to his body.
''His loss,'' Ransom shrugs, and you sigh again as you cuddle up into his chest, reveling in his warmth. You found yourself in your happy place, and you're not planning on going any time soon.
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''Sweets? Why do you go on so many dates to begin with? It's just curiosity, not judging you or anything,'' Ransom asks later that night.
You two have moved to lay under your duvet, and your head is lying on his chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Your hand splayed out over his abdomen, your leg thrown over his.
His left arm is wrapped around you and is on your ribcage, moving slowly up and down with your breaths. His other arm is folded underneath his head, and he stares at the ceiling as his thoughts go a mile a minute.
''Well, everyone keeps telling me how amazing it was to lose their virginity at 16 years old and stuff, and here I am, nearly 26 and still a virgin! So, well... I've figured I'd take matters into my own hands, but so far, no one has been willing to do it...'' you sigh out, shutting your eyes tightly as you're trying not to be so embarrassed.
''Huh,'' Ransom mumbles. It takes a little while to come up with an idea, and he hopes you'll also be into it.
''What about me?'' he suddenly asks, and your head shoots up to meet his gaze.
''What about you?'' you ask, though you're pretty sure you know what he's getting at with his question.
''If you're sure you want to lose your virginity, I am more than okay with doing that. But only if you are, too. If not, we can drop it and never talk about it again,'' he tells you, but that isn't necessary.
''A-are you... I mean... You'd do that for me?'' you ask, a little unsure now, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. There's no one in your life who you'd trust more than Ransom.
''Of course, Sweets. I'd do anything for you,'' he tells you before he guides you off of him, and he crawls over you, effectively caging you in.
''Ransom, please...'' you beg softly, and that's all he needs to know what you want. He leans down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss that takes your breath away, and you need more.
Your tongue slides over his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to grant you access, your hand sliding into his hair to pull him impossibly closer.
His lower half is leaning on yours, and you can feel how hard he is right now as he's throbbing in his pants from the anticipation of what's about to happen. He'll be your first; after this, he plans never to let you go.
You moan softly as his hips start rolling against yours, and Ransom can't help but smile into the kiss before letting go and sitting on his knees, looking at you.
''I need words before I move on, Sweets. Because I need you to know that if we go through with this, you'll be mine, and I'm not letting you go. If you want me to stop at any point, you can tell me, and we can stop, no strings attached,'' he tells you, but you want him. Now.
''Yes, Ransom. Please take my virginity and make me yours. All I want is to be yours,'' you tell him, now almost getting impatient.
Within no time, you're both completely bare, and Ransom has sunk two of his long, thick fingers into your entrance, moving slowly to get you adjusted to the size of them.
''R-Ransom, I'm close!'' you tell him as he curls his fingers, the tension inside you building more and more, ready to snap. All you need is for him to give some love to your clit, and you'll fall over the edge, but he wants you to say it.
''What do you need, Sweets? Tell me, and I'll let you come,'' he says with a mischievous smile, and you groan in response.
''Need you to rub my clit!'' you tell him, and he obeys immediately, making you fall over the edge almost instantly.
''Look at you cumming for me; look so good for me, Sweets. Such a good girl,'' he grumbles out, and it only makes you even more horny, needing to feel him inside you.
Ransom grabs a condom from seemingly out of nowhere, but you're not thinking about that. All you're focused on right now is how big he is because it doesn't even stand up against his abdomen from how heavy and large it is.
It's amazing. And about to fit all inside you.
''Are you ready for me, Sweets? I'll go slow, I promise,'' he says as he leans forward after putting the condom on, capturing your lips with his as he lines up with your entrance.
''Yes, Ransom, I'm ready,'' you tell him, and your hands are on his biceps, squeezing softly when you feel his tip. It's a strange but pleasurable feeling, and the groan leaving Ransom's throat tells you everything you need to know.
Slowly but surely, he thrusts into you, keeping his gaze on your face at all times, ensuring that if you're hurt, he'll stop immediately. It's a good thing there's nothing but pleasure visible on your face because you're somewhere north of heaven right now.
With a loud moan, you feel him slide into the hilt, and your back arches, pressing your chest against his. You've never felt so full but never want this feeling to end.
''R-Ransom, it feels so good,'' you tell him, and he can't help but smile because he feels the same. He has never felt so damn good before.
When you've gotten used to feeling him inside you, he slowly starts to move, hitting your sweet spot after a few experimental thrusts, and it has you seeing stars. You wrap your legs around his hips, effectively pulling him even closer.
''You feel so good around me, Sweets, such a perfect, tight pussy for me to ruin,'' he growls in your ear, making you moan in response. It doesn't take long for both of you to cum, and when he's done, he pulls out carefully to let himself fall to the side.
''How're you feeling, Sweets?''
''Perfect,'' you tell him with a lovesick grin. It was everything you dreamt of and more. It was heaven.
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maaarijaaa · 1 year
Text
Mine ❦ Sherlock Holmes Part Eighth
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Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Summary: Sherlock Holmes, the most famous detective in the world. After finishing a case, he decided to visit Enola and his mother. On the first day of the visit he laid his eyes on a beauty, you 
Disclaimer: I do NOT allow for my work to be translated or posted anywhere else on this app or other platforms. English is not my first language so let me know if I made any mistakes!
Words count: 1.5k
A/N: I am finally done with this story🫶🏻The prologue would be posted in a few hours to see their married life with some kids maybe👀 This part might be bad but I have tried my best❤️‍🔥
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated🫶🏻🫶🏻
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Its been a week since you have sene each other.
A week of both of you crying, not sleeping and worst of all, not eating.
Your own father could not recognize his own daughter. He was there for you the whole time and you were thankful for that but you were still angry at him for even trying to set you up with Mycroft.
While you and Sherlock were heartbroken, Mycroft on the other hand was very happy. He knows that soon or later you will be his and your father and him would finally start a business together.
You did not know this but Mycroft was coming over to your fathers house to chat. What you also did not know is that Mycroft brought a red velvet box with him, with your engagement ring being inside of it.
What Mycroft did not know was that a little bird was watching him while he prepared the ring in his study, that little bird would be Enola who would later tell her other older brother,Sherlock, before its too late.
Mycroft gets out of his carriage and sees that your dad is waiting at him at the porch of your house.
“Nice to see you again, Mycroft” your father spoke.
“Well its been a week since I last saw you and your beautiful daughter so I thought why not visit you” Mycroft spoke.
They walked into the house and later on into your fathers study room.
“Before we talk about some business I wanted to show you something.” Mycroft spoke to your father.
“I have brought your daughter a gift and wanted to ask for your permission…”
You father first stared at the ring then Mycroft.
“To take her hand in marriage. I love her deeply.” Mycroft knew himself that it was the biggest lie he has ever told your father but, business is business.
You father was in the disbelief, he did not expect that.
“You know, she is going thru a hard time but maybe you should ask her the question, you have my permission. I want what’s best for her and I think you marrying her would be a great idea.”
While Mycroft was happy that he got your fathers permission to marry you, Enola struggles to get Sherlock out of his bed.
He was very angry at himself for hurting you.
He was not getting very much sleep or eating very much. All he could think about is you.
Your beautiful face, your soft lips that stretch into a beautiful smile whenever you lay your eyes on him and your eyes that he always found beautiful.
While Sherlock was lost in his thoughts, Enola successfully got her brother out of the bed by pushing him and Sherlock falls on the floor.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Sherlock asked his sister
“Well since you did not wanna listen to me, I had to do it the harder way!”
Before Sherlock could even say a word, Enola cut him off
“If you don’t do anything, Mycroft is going to marry Y/N!”
Sherlock’s eyes widen at what Enola just said.
“What do you mean he is going to marry her?” He asked his sister.
“He went to visit her and her father this morning and brought a ring with him!!!”
Sherlock looked at his sister before rushing off to get ready. He needed to fix this.
While getting ready he wondered why Mycroft would marry you. Mycroft had zero interest in you and then it him.
The woman that was flirting with him at the event came with Mycroft and saw her around him few times. He formed the dots and realized that it was Mycroft’s plan all along.
“That son of a bitch!” He mumbled
After getting ready, he rushed down the stairs and ran to your house.
Meanwhile you were getting ready, you heard the voice that sounded too familiar.
Mycroft.
You rolled your eyes. He just loved destroying your life at every chance he got.
You dad knocked on your bedroom door.
“Honey, are you awake?”
You quickly grabbed your robe and put it on before shouting
“Yes father, I am awake! You can come in!”
Right after you said that you see your father entering your bedroom with no other than Mycroft him self.
Your father came up to you and hugged you.
“My only daughter, you have grown into a smart and beautiful woman. I am becoming old and when my time comes there will be no one to take care of you.”
“Father, what are you talking about?” You shed a tear.
“This morning, Mycroft came up with a wonderful request.”
You looked at your father and then Mycroft who was pulling out a red velvet box and was getting on his knee. You stopped breathing at that moment.
“Today is one of the happiest days of my life. Today I came to ask your dear father to take your hand in marriage and to my surprise he agreed. So will you, my beautiful Y/N, be my wife?”
He then opened the box and reveled a beautiful ring with a diamond on it but you knew you could not accept it. Your heart still belong to Sherlock.
Just as you were about to open your mouth, you heard someone running through the door.
“Y/N!!!” Sherlock shouted.
You then ignored your father and Mycroft and ran down stairs.
There he was. He finally came for you.
You ran into his arms and kissed him passionately.
Mycroft was pissed to say at least while your dad was more confused.
“What are you doing here Sherlock?!” Mycroft asked angrily.
Sherlock pulled away from you and looked at his brother.
“I came here to see the love of my life and I also came here to make something clear. Don’t you have anything to tell, Mycroft?”
You and your father stared at Mycroft slightly confused.
“Where is your friend Vanessa by the way, is she destroying other relationships and marriages now?”
You stared at Mycroft and then you too collected the dots. This was one of Mycrofts shitty plans.
“It was one of his many plans. Enola searched your office this morning and found out that it would be easier for you to make money and become businesses partner with her father by simply marrying her. When he passes everything that he would leave for her would be given to you. You found about our relationship and decided to use ur friend, paying her to play my so called “mistress” so that you could end us, but you know what?”
Just then, Sherlock put his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest.
“Even if you tried it a million times, you would not succeed because my love for her and her love for me is stronger.”
Just then, Mycroft leaves the house, throwing a tantrum outside your house.
Sherlock pulls you close and presses a soft kiss on your lips.
“What now?” You asked him
“Well, do you want to get married. I don’t have a ring with me so I can not really propose you in a traditional way but..”
Sherlock could not finish the sentence since you cut him off with a kiss and said
“Being your life would be the best thing that has ever happened in my life.” You said while pressing your foreheads together.
You then turned around around and saw your father smiling
“I am sorry I wanted to do what’s best for you. And you Sherlock, have my full permission to marry my daughter.”
You and Sherlock looked at each other, smiling before kissing again.
You could not wait to get married….
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Tag list requests are closed since there are just too many requests❤️ turn on you notifications to get notified🫶🏻
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ronearoundblindly · 6 months
Text
Love of My Life (a RoAR drabble)
Flufftober Day 10, Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see series)
This is it, gang, the moment Ran has avoided for soooo long... No warnings, and I even avoided cursing (there is one 'damn' and some taking the lord's name in vain lol). Hopefully, it still seems like Ran then! 🤣 Unedited, short.
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"Watch out!"
Ran yanks his foot off the gas and swivels the beamer to the right, missing his chance to merge up the ramp to Drop Offs.
"My god, Hugh, what is wrong with you? Should I have called Dubois?"
"No," he bites back, "I just didn't see that guy in my blindspot."
Ran is utterly distracted while driving you to the airport. You're on your way back to Beijing for who knows how long, and since everything changed two days ago, he's struggled to focus.
Now he has to loop around the entire place to get back to your departure door. That gives him time, but he hasn't used that wisely so far. Why would traffic be different?
His head pivots back and forth, triple-checking his mirrors.
Your hand lightly lays on his arm. He can't feel the warmth of your skin through his sweater sleeve, sadly.
"Hugh," you soothe, "we'll figure out the money and get you back out to visit soon, I promise."
For once--for one bizarre and shining moment in Ransom Drysdale's life--this isn't about money, so he huffs in annoyance.
"That's not... Let's just get you there."
He takes only a split second to look at your soft smile before overly attending the road. He's not thinking about the heated conversation in this very car the other night, he's ignoring the elephant in the back seat with a tattooed forehead that reads "marriage," and he's definitely swallowing three gigantic stone words.
His car pulls up to the busy curb, and you start for the door handle.
"Wait," he shout-whispers, unable to figure out what his voice should sound like. If he speaks deeper, will that be more serious? If he's quiet, will it seem gentle and genuine? He has no idea. Ran's never told anyone this before, not deliberately, not for real.
You squeeze his hand sweetly when he reaches out.
"I promise I charged my phone."
"No, that--"
"And I've CC-ed you on all my itinerary emails."
"Great but--"
"Yes, I ordered more night cream for the hotel, and I'll keep up with--"
"Just SHUT UP for a--" Ran covers his mouth "--sorry. I--I just..."
He can't finish the damn phrase. The pressure in his chest is topping out the meters and he can't do it.
Patiently, you sit back in the front seat, sighing, eyes darting between him and the airport security guard keeping the flow of cars steady. You bite your lip instead of prompting him.
He has another false start.
By this point, Ransom might cry in frustration.
This is not supposed to be so difficult. Why has he made this so difficult? You two have shared far more intimate things than this. Christ, he's proposed already! It's a good thing you've asked him not to tell anybody because he can't even say I love you.
"I know you do, Hugh. It's okay."
Did he? Did he just blurt that out in the middle of thought?!? That's twice now then, but perhaps the first instance you've truly heard. Third time's the charm maybe...
"I love you," he says, no chance to be mistaken. He hears it, he knows you hear it, and he means it. His voice sounds normal yet foreign, changed but unchanged, kind. He sounds kind. Ran isn't sure if he likes it.
"And I love you, too," you return easily.
The true and enormous grin that blooms across your face is something he definitely likes though--loves even.
He smiles but quickly reins it back in, aware that stupid guard is eyeing their immobile vehicle with no one unloading.
"Come 'ere," he breathes.
You're on him in a flash, tender lips kissing his, and just for luck, he mumbles it a few more times. Practice. He'll need practice. You told him he would to lead a new life with you. One day it will seem as normal as swiping his credit card.
"I love you. I love you. I love you."
He gets his favorite giggle in response. He really is a sucker for that silly noise. How he used to hate it...but oh, how he loves it now.
There's a bracing tap at his window.
"Hey! Let's get moving, you two. Other people need this space."
Yeah, whatever, Ran thinks. I don't care about anyone but her.
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[Main Masterlist; Root of All Ransom Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @starkleila @brandycranby
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imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
Text
𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚
🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓
summary - ransom realises there is one sexual experience he hasn't done yet and decides he'll get it over with before anyone finds out about it.
warning - smut, gloryhole, daddy kink, swearing, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Ransom slams the door as he exits his car, his face set in a permanent scowl, “Fucking family.” He huffs, wondering when they will finally get hit by some sort of disaster, wiping them off the face of the planet. Ransom stuffs his hands into the pockets of his expensive coat, walking toward the brightly lit building. Ransom was known to be adventurous, especially when it came to sex, he had done nearly everything, so to learn he’s never tried a gloryhole before was absurd, and he couldn’t have anyone finding out about it. 
He grunts as he opens the door, quickly pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe whatever germs that could’ve been on that handle. Ransom walks over to the counter, leaning against it and giving the woman behind it a smirk. “Hello, sweets. I want your best girl.” He pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and slams it down, winking as she points him to the room. Ransom saunters down the hall and enters the room. 
He looked around, being assured that these were the best in the business. Ransom walked around the room, checking out each woman, shaking his head when he didn’t see one he liked. He didn’t want his first experience to be horrible. He wanted the best. He paid for the best, so he should receive it. When his eyes landed on you, he knew you were perfect by how his cock twitched, swelling rapidly beneath his pants. 
Ransom walks closer to your hole, grunting at the sight of your glistening cunt, enjoying how you are already lying on your back, his favourite position. He loves to watch the bulge appear in women’s tummies as he fucks into them. His thick member splitting and stretching them open, and he groans as he imagines what you would look like. “You’re a pretty sight, sweetheart. Are you ready to be split open by Daddy? You’ll definitely be begging for more, cockdrunk, from being fucked by me.” 
You shake your head, smiling slightly at his words. You’ve dealt with many men, ranging from soft to sweet to cocky to downright rude. He was definitely in the cocky department, but you decided to give him a chance. You weren’t going to lie. His words made you drip. “Show me what you got, Sugar. I don’t think I quite believe you… I’ve had a lot of men promise me a good time.” You smirk, wanting to mess with him a bit to see if he’ll either get angry and storm off or follow through with his promise. 
“Oh, sweetheart… You should know that you don’t mess with Daddy, or he won’t let you cum.” Ransom growls, pressing his clothed bulge against your dripping cunt, not caring in the slightest if your juices stain his expensive slacks. His finger traces up your leg, tapping against your thigh. “You want to cum, don’t you?” You throb, face heating up as he speaks. His hand slaps your sopping cunt, causing you to squeak. “Speak slut.” 
“Yes, yes! I want to cum, please!” You couldn’t believe you were already begging, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Ransom smirked, moving his hands to the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his thick, throbbing member. He strokes it, twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb across his leaking tip. Ransom eyes your cunt, watching it slicken even more as you listen to him touch himself. 
He rubs his mushroom tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before pushing in. Ransom groans, wondering how the fuck you could be so tight when you work at a place like this. He grips your hips, bottoming out inside you. “Jesus, sweetheart.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits your cervix, stretching you wider than anyone else before. “After I’m done with you, you won’t want anyone else.” Ransom pulls you closer, setting a pace, thrusting hard and fast. He grunts when he sees the bulge forming, his thick tip pounding into you, hitting spots that have never been hit before. 
“I’m yours! I’m yours! Oh, god!” Your head flies back, arms flying upwards and clutching the pillow underneath you. Your body moves up and down the bed, legs falling open for the man to continue to use you. You felt so close already, the band inside of you begging to snap. Your legs wrap around him, bringing him closer, needing to feel every part of him. “Please let me cum!” 
Ransom moans, eyes slipping closed as his head tilts back, feeling your walls throb and pulsate around him. “Fuck, sweetheart. Are you sure you’ve been good enough?” He squeezes your hips, pounding harder into you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. His hand moves between you, locating your puffy clit, rubbing and pinching it. 
“Yes! I’ve been so good, please!” Your screams bounce off the walls, feeling yourself throb like crazy. Your cunt swallowing his cock deeper, back arching. “Please!”
“Cum, slut.” Ransom growls, thrusting faster, rubbing your clit. “Cum for Daddy.” 
“Daddy!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your vision becomes white as the most intense orgasm washes over you, your juices squirting out and covering the mystery man’s expensive clothes. Once your orgasm has passed, you sag into the bed, letting out soft moans as he continues to destroy you.
“Fuck, you dirty slut! You’ve ruined my clothes.” Ransom growls, fucking into you roughly, feeling his balls tighten and his tip swell as his cock throbs. “I’m gonna paint your pretty walls with my cum.” You moan as thick spurts of cum shoot out of him, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. Ransom doesn’t dare rest his head on the wall before him, not wanting to catch a disease. He pulls his softened cock from your used hole, tucking it back into his slacks. “Your pretty little pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum.” 
Those are the last words you hear out of the stranger’s mouth as he turns and leaves. Ransom places his sunnies over his eyes, ignoring the woman ogling him at the counter and heading back outside to where his car is parked. He knows he’ll be back. You were worth his money, and maybe one day he will get you out of The Strawberry Shack and take you home, making you his own personal slut. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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babyjakes · 11 months
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dreamy undoing.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night
summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.
pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader
warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.
word count | 1,517
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requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.
an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)
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"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.
"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"
"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."
From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.
"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."
Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.
Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.
"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.
"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.
"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.
"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.
Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.
"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"
"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.
"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.
"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.
"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"
"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.
Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.
But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.
"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.
"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.
"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"
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quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.
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boxofbonesfic · 10 months
Note
omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖
Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!
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Title: Breaking
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader
Word Count: 5,374
Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.
Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!
A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics
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Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely. 
What?
That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.
“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”
It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember. 
“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”
Which brings him to now.
You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind. 
What is on his mind, is you. 
Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed. 
Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time. 
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in. 
But not anymore. 
You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.  
Fuck.  
Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins. 
“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”
Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red. 
“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer. 
“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another. 
“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.” 
Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.” 
“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.” 
Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders. 
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”
“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—” 
Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass. 
“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face. 
“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes. 
“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”
“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek. 
“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably. 
“Nothing.” 
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question. 
“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.
“How would you know?”
“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment. 
“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger. 
“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips. 
“Have a good night, Ransom.”
No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map. 
“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?” 
“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time. 
“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him. 
“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.
“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.
“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.
“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.
“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.” 
“Stop.” 
The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet. 
When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite. 
“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.
You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road. 
“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS. 
“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.” 
You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom. 
“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”
“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.” 
“He’s fine.” 
Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily. 
“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”
The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done. 
“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”
You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding. 
“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.” 
“Ransom, don’t—”
“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.” 
As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face. 
It feels right. 
“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.
It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles. 
The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house. 
“What are you doing?”
“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed. 
“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.” 
He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too. 
“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken. 
“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips. 
“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”
Your gasp is audible. 
“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”
“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.
“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out. 
You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.
“So you haven’t fucked him.” 
You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs. 
“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low,  satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.” 
“Ransom, stop. You’re—”
“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye. 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty. 
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.
He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it. 
“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton. 
“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp. 
“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.
“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”
“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied. 
“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin. 
“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”
“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you’re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes. 
“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs. 
“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.  
“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—
“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face. 
“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs. 
“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”
“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”
He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.
“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.
“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you. 
“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds. 
“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it. 
“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”
You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages. 
“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger. 
“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought. 
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.” 
“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—”  Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red. 
“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”  He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”
“Ransom!”
“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip.  “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.” 
The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it. 
What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth. 
“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control. 
“Shit, shit, shit—”
“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.” 
God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him. 
He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds. 
You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone. 
“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”
“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs. 
“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder. 
“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”
He cocks his head at you. 
“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.” 
the end
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
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evergreen university
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a/n: probably the story, so far, that took me the longest to write (like 7 months total)... lot of love went into this, so I hope you all enjoy it ♡
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (detective!family friend!Ari Levinson, Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), dark content, university AU, murder mystery, polyamory, explicit sexual content, total word count is 17,5k
masterlist | join my taglist
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: about ;
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the murder at evergreen university
sour summer
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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ramp-it-up · 6 months
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Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx Drysdale)
Word Count: a little over 1K
Summary: Ransom helps your anxiety.
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Mentions of anxiety, nervousness, restless sleep. Soft Ransom, sleepy sex, manual sex, nipple play, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, p-in-v, a lil' dumbification kink, good girl kink, degradation kink, dirty talk, breeding kink.
A/N: This is for #KinktoberMaybe and may or may not be based on some things that may or may not have happened in real life. Part of the Minx Series.
I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
"You Up?"
You rolled over and looked Ransom in his sky blue eyes. Maybe you’d dreamt him asking you that. It made you remember the days when he would text you begging to come over at 2 am.
After he’d just left you at midnight.
“Mornin’ Ran.”
Ransom leaned up on his elbow and so he could see you better. You’d been sleeping restlessly, making a 180 degree turn with your head ending up at the foot of the bed.
You'd been ball of anxiety lately, working on the final edits of your book and more than a little nervous about your debut novel, despite the encouragement Ransom and Walter gave you. Ransom had even said it was the most brilliant thing he’d read in a while. That was high praise coming from him.
Caring for an active toddler and trying to make sure that you didn’t neglect Ransom were forefront in your mind as well. You were exhausted from what seemed a million things at once and had fallen into bed late the night before.
“You sure you’re awake?”
He did ask you that. You smiled at your husband and nodded.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Good. C’mere. Wanna make you cum.”
Your giggle caught in your throat as you saw he was serious. You just hummed as you moved into his outstretched arms and grabby hands.
“Ran?”
You had no doubt about his desire for you, but this was new.
Ransom pulled down your panties and lifted your tank top up to your chin. He pulled you close and hooked his leg over yours, opening you up to the cool air of the room.
“Been thinking about this all night when you were tossing and turning. You need something to calm you the fuck down.”
You gasped as Ransom moved his fingers into your mouth.
“Be a good fucking girl and get ‘em wet for me, Minx.”
“Hmmmm? Ummmhmmm.”
You nodded as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your anxiety started slipping away as Ransom whispered sweet nasty words in your ear.
“I’m gonna play with this sweet, sloppy cunt until you cum a couple of times in my arms. I’m gonna hold you down and make you take it while I watch that perfect slutty face of yours as you take what I do to you.”
Ransom was already playing with one nipple with the hand that was around you and grasping you close to him; as he withdrew his fingers from your mouth, a trail of saliva filled the path of his fingers down your neck and to the other as he twisted your nipples in tandem. You moaned at the disparate sensations from wet and dry fingers, wiggling in his grasp.
“Look at you. Going dumb all from me playing with you already. Gonna be my sweet little dumb baby girl? I haven’t even started yet. Go dumb all you want. Just be sure not to run away from what I’m about to do.”
You sighed and sank further into his arms, trusting and anticipating the pleasure that was to come.
“Oh!”
Ransom’s hand was at your pussy now, and the quick force of air before his finger came down to slap it was your only warning.
“Ran!”
You arched, pushing your ass into the mattress and your head into his arm as you moved with pleasure. You could feel his hard cock on your hip and the wet spot on his boxers and you reached for it.
Ransom let you have what you wanted, and he kissed your temple.
“Sweet little dumb Minxy for my cock. Go ahead. Play with it. S’not gonna stop me from doing what I want.”
Ransom smoothed his fingers down your clit, collecting the wetness there and pushing all three fingertips inside you sideways as your thumb swiped across his wet, dripping slit.
“Fuck, Ran…,” you whined as he moved and curled his digits just right to reach that sweet spongy spot inside you. Ransom thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Right… right there, hunh?”
Ransom chuckled into your ear as you opened your legs wider for him. He bit your earlobe as his thumb strummed your clit. Your legs started shaking and you arched into his mouth which was now at your nipple, sucking hard and causing sparks to go off behind your eyelids.
“Ummmhmmmm.”
You started stroking him faster and licking your lips. Ransom was paying rapt attention to all your expressions.
“What’re you thinking about, Minxy? Giving me that neck while I make you cum? Want me to stuff it down your throat?”
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as the thought made you even wetter and Ransom could feel your pussy tremor.
“Yes, please Ran!”
You nodded frantically.
“Not this time, Minx. You always manage to distract me with that and you run away from your orgasm. This time you’re gonna get what you deserve.”
“Nooo…”
This time you shook your head as Ransom carefully watched your face. He could read you like a book and he pulled you even closer by pulling his arm around your throat. He pulled your legs even further apart as he concentrated on circling your clit as he controlled your air.
You grasped at his arm because you felt what was coming, and it was going to be big. Ransom eased up on your windpipe as you arched into the bed again, your body stiffening as you neared the top of the rollercoaster of pleasure. His mouth drew nearer to your ear as you signaled how close you were.
"Give it to me, Minx."
That gravelly bass was all you needed.
“Uh.. ah. OHHHFFUUUUCCCKKK!”
You became a bucking bronco and Ransom's strong arms and leg held you captive to feeling all of the pleasure. Your mind blanked as Ransom relentlessly thumbed your clit.
You couldn't breathe, but you managed a weak, “S-t-tooo much…”
“You can take it. You’re a strong girl. A real good girl Minx. You made me fall for you. You carried Golden. You can do anything. My good, sweet girl.”
You began to feel another orgasm building as Ransom continued. You felt the pressure building again and had to get away, trying to grab his hand in vain.
Ransom’s muscles rippled as his arm stayed right where it was. He palmed the back of your head and tilted your head.
“Look at that. I want you to see what I’m doing to you. What your body is going to do for me…”
He groaned as he felt your pussy spasm when you watched his fingers moving on you.
“Ransom!”
You squealed as you watched yourself squirt all over him. He must have been magic because you thought you saw his hand as it moved even faster between your legs.
“Ahhh. Yes. Yea ha ha yesss! Give me that shit.”
You were sobbing now as Ransom let you go, climbing down your body to put his mouth on you.
You jumped as he licked and sucked your slopping wet slit and smiled at your bliss. You were alternating between tears and laughter as you saw his delighted face.
You tugged his hair gently as he playfully kissed your sodden, pulsing pussy and smiled up at you.
“There now. Don’t you feel relaxed?”
You laughed at your husband.
“I hate you Ransom.”
Random placed another kiss on your pussy as he climbed back up beside you.
“I love you too, Minx.”
You were boneless, floating in space as you looked at your tousle-haired rake of a spouse. You ascertained that he was fully naked and still hard against your thigh even though you were floaty and your eyes were half closed.
“There’s just one more thing Ran...”
“What’s that Minx?”
Ransom's eyes were dark as you pulled him to you. He couldn’t resist slotting himself between your thighs as he stared at your fucked-out face.He leaned down and gave a taste of his you-flavored lips as he slid his thick hard cock inside you and moaned.
“Fuck me back to sleep Ran. Need more rest.”
Ransom rocked deep inside you, sucking and marking up your neck as his hand slid down your body. You relished his girth and the feel of every bump and ridge of him as he started stroking inside you, making your insides light up like the early morning sky.
“Whatever you need, Minx…but you’ve got to give me one more. Around my cock, like the good little girl you are…”
——
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