#Dark Ransom x Reader

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Family Affair

Chapter 4

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Harlan's money ruled the world of your husband and in-laws. When Harlan cuts his family off the rift between siblings grows larger and you are somehow caught in the middle.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Slow Burn

Dark Ari x Reader, Dark Ransom x Reader (Pregnant reader)

❄️

Ransom's home

You sit at the kitchen table, staring at the white foam containers filled with takeout. The mingling aromas of greasy takeout—soy sauce, fried onions, and something faintly sweet—turn your stomach. The nausea creeps in, not entirely from the smell but from everything weighing on you.

Twins. The news should have been joyous. You wanted to be happy—really, you did—but the thought of becoming a mother was quickly overshadowed by the fear that, with Ari constantly abroad, you’d be doing it alone.

“What’s wrong?” Ransom asks, popping a piece of fried calamari into his mouth. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say to the man who wore your husband’s face—but that’s where the similarities ended.

Ransom didn’t care about you, you knew it. Why he brought you here to his extravagant abode, you weren’t entirely sure. More than likely, it was just another way to spite Ari, in a game you weren’t privy to.

“I’ve eaten. Now can you take me home.” You say ignoring his question. Looking up from your plate to meet his gaze.

“Why? We need to celebrate. Twins!” His tone turns almost playful as he strides into the open kitchen. You watch as he pours two glasses of wine, the liquid catching the light as it swirls into the glasses. “Shouldn’t be much of a surprise, all things considered.”

You frown as he approaches, one glass extended toward you. Your eyes linger on it before meeting his again. He chuckles softly at your silent refusal and, with a shrug, pulls it back. Taking a lazy sip before switching to the other glass as Ransom settles into the chair across from you.

It was already snowing when he brought you here, and the thought of braving the icy roads with him at the wheel drunk—sent a cold wave of apprehension through you. But you needed to go home and come to terms with what your life will be now.

You sigh heavily, breaking the tense silence as you rise from the table. Carefully maneuvering your belly to avoid the edge, you steady yourself, ignoring his low snicker. Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you meet his unbothered gaze as he takes another sip.

“If you won’t take me home, I’ll just catch the bus.”

"So still not my brother?" Ransom leans back, a smirk curling his lips, his tone laced with mockery.

The question leaves you silent, anger simmering beneath the surface. But you swallow it down. He wants a reaction, but you refuse.

“Calm down and come sit back down. You’re not going anywhere,” he calls after you. Mindlessly, you rub your stomach—a thoughtless act to soothe your fraying nerves—while your other hand inches toward the door. “There’s ten inches of snow out there now. You’ll freeze to death… think of the babies.”

You stop, his words rooting you to the spot. He’s right, and you hate it. The storm has trapped you here, at least until morning.

“If you’d just told me what you wanted to eat, you’d be home by now. But no—you had to be a stubborn brat. I can see why Ari can’t stand to be around you.”

His words land like a slap. Your thoughts drift to the photos that had landed on your doorstep as your hand lingers on the doorknob. Sure, partying on a boat with models and drugs didn’t prove infidelity, but it was hard to ignore what they implied.

And now, all the unanswered calls sting even more with him back in the same time zone. He’s spent more nights at Harlan’s than at home. Hell, you’ve seen Ransom more than your own husband. Despite being heavily pregnant, you feel like an afterthought—if you’re even a thought at all. Did Ari truly hate being around you? Could everyone see it but you? And yet, if he despised you so much, why had he fought so hard against the divorce?

❄️

Harlan's home

The bay window cast a golden glow across the room, silhouetting Harlan’s back. The grand oak desk between Ari and Harlan a chaos of scattered notes and loose papers, no doubt seeds of inspiration for his next novel. The towering shelves of books wallpapered the room, their leather-bound spines exuding a faint, earthy scent that mingled with the smoky aroma of pipe tobacco—an indulgence Harlan wasn’t supposed to have given his last doctor’s opinion.

Harlan leans forward, his fingers laced, his sharp gaze fixed on Ari. The conversation followed the same pattern as the others before him—reasoning one day, negotiations the next, and, when all else failed pleases. Each attempt a new strategy to sway the old man from closing his wallet to the family.

When Harlan tossed the folder onto the desk, the room seemed to fill the air with a heavy tension. Ari hesitated before reaching for it, his fingers brushing the edge of the paper as if it might bite.

Unlike the others, whose greed clung to them like smoke, Ari had seemed above it, his pursuits noble. Every check had a purpose for either clean water initiatives, school funds, relief efforts. But now, the folder’s contents lay between them like a knife, its blade gleaming with betrayal.

“I don’t know where you got this information from, but it’s not true,” Ari says, his voice calm but tight. He scans the pages, his unease deepening with every highlighted discrepancy. The accusations damning.

“I want to believe you, Ari, but unless you can prove otherwise, I won’t reverse my decision,” Harlan states firmly, leaning back with an air of boredom. His gaze drifts to his pipe, as though it holds more interest than the conversation.

"I'm tired of this. Day after day of the same old topic. money. Let’s talk about something else. How’s your wife? She mentioned waiting to find out the baby’s sex when you got back. So, do you know?”

“She’s there now. I’ll call her later and ask,” Ari murmurs distractedly, not looking up.

“So you’re staying here again tonight? That’s a shame. Your first child, and you’ve barely left this house since you got back into the country”

“She understands,” Ari responds flatly , flipping another page.

Harlan nodded slowly, lighting his pipe with a flick of the match. The flame lit his face for a moment before vanishing into a curl of smoke.

“She understands, does she? That’s interesting. Quite surprising, actually, given her reaction after our last conversation. I’d have thought that would’ve been the first thing you mentioned—not money.”

Ari’s hand stills on the paper, his brow arching in suspicion. “You talked to her? About what?”

“I’ve requested paternity of the child.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the pipe. Ari’s gaze lifted slowly, disbelief hardening into something colder, sharper.

“What?”

Harlan leaned back, the creak of the old leather chair breaking the tense silence. “You’re overseas more than half the year. Are you certain the timeline adds up?”

Ari’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the folder. It took him a moment to steady his voice. “You're crossing a line old man. She’s my wife,” he said firmly, his tone edged with anger.

“That may be so,” Harlan says, exhaling another plume of smoke, “but unless proven, is that your child?”

❄️

Ransom's home

You stare out the guest room window as your breath fogs the pane. Beyond the frosted glass, the world is muted in white, the snow showed no sign of stopping, its relentless fall thickening with each passing hour.

Your hand drifts to your belly, tracing slow, soothing circles over the taut skin. The takeout food not sitting well with the twins as they kick inside protesting your poor choice. You close your eyes and exhale, the stress of the day lingering in the air, clinging to you like smoke.

"You can sleep in this," Ransom offers, tossing a garment on top of the bed beside you. "Or not," he adds with a shrug, already halfway out the door. You glance at the offering and grimace. It’s his sweater and a pair of socks—but in your current state you doubt you could fit much else of his.

You turn to face him, your hands still trying to calm the chaos in your belly. He leans against the doorway, the hall light casting shadows over his face. Even in the dimness, you can feel his gaze trailing over you.

“Thank you.”

The words come out tired, weak. Any fight you had left is long gone. You’re stuck here.

“Are you still hungry? Are the twins okay?” he asks, pushing off the doorway. There’s concern in his voice, and it’s… odd. It feels like a trap, the setup for an elaborate rug pull, and you can’t help but tense at it.

“I’m okay. Just tired,” you reply, taking the sweater and folding it over your arm. You wish he’d leave, give you some space. Since his unexpected appearance at your doctor’s appointment, you hadn’t managed more than a minute or two alone.

“Alright, fine. " Ransom says, seemingly backing off. "There are fresh towels in the guest bathroom—help yourself to anything in there. But don’t get any bright ideas about wandering around. I’d hate to have to start taking inventory.”

You give a tired nod, barely acknowledging yet another dig. He says nothing else, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving the room without another word. He doesn’t bother closing the door behind him. With a sigh, you wobble over, your feet aching with each step, and nudge it shut. The game Ransom was playing you hope will end by the morning.

You don’t take him up on his offer. Instead, you start changing out of your clothes. Your bra comes off first, folded neatly alongside your shirt—but the pants are another story.

Tugging at the waistband, your belly turns it into a stubborn battle. Frustration bubbles up, and with a sigh, you fall backwards onto the mattress. The soft surface cradles you like a cloud. Its hold almost making you give up in defeat.

With a few more wriggles attempts, the pants finally give in, sliding free. The ease of pressure a relief to your aching belly. You indulge in the feel of the duvet a bit longer on your bare skin. You’d never felt anything so soft and a part of you wanted it to swallow you whole and take you away from it all.

The stress of your marriage and the babies lingers at the edge of your thoughts. If you divorced Ari, would anything really change? You’ve managed on your own before, but with the responsibility of the babies… could you handle it?

The biting chill of cold pulls you from your thoughts. With a huff you push up and pull over the sweater. It feels softer than anything you’ve ever felt. Its fibers cling around your belly like a soft hug, far more comfy than the itchy ones you have in your closet. It should be a sin to feel this good.

Your eyes close as you savor the feel of the sweater and duvet, their softness easing the weight of stress pressing down on you. The foreign room begins to lose its strangeness as sleep starts to take hold.

The sudden creak of the door jolts you awake, your heart leaping as your brother-in-law strides in without warning.

Scrambling, you clutch the duvet, yanking it awkwardly over your lower half in a haze of half-sleep. He scoffs as he approaches. The sharp scent of something sweet drifts toward you, carried by the steam rising from the mug in his hands.

“Don’t stretch out my sweater,” he quips, the smirk tugging at his lips making the jab feel sharper. “I doubt you have the funds to replace it.”

You watch wordlessly as he sets a coaster on the nightstand and then places the mug down. The smell grows more enticing the closer it gets. You peer over at the sight of melting marshmallows floating in the rich, chocolatey liquid calls to you. You should feel full after the amount of food you eventually devoured, but now you find yourself wanting more.

“Thought this might help settle the terror twins in your belly,” he suggests nonchalantly, flopping down on the mattress beside you. “Ma said it always worked for her when she was carrying me and Ari.”

You look between him and the drink, still a bit suspicious. He’s never been this nice to you—it wasn’t in his nature.

“Thank you,” you say, your tone wary as his eyes linger on you. The warmth from the mug seeps into your hands as you cup it, inhaling the sweet scent.

As you lean over to grab the mug, the duvet slips slightly, exposing your feet to the cool air. You glance at him and catch his gaze drifting down, his eyes lingering briefly on your feet. Slowly, you pull them back under the covers.

Your eyes widen as his hand shoots out, catching one before you can retreat. The heat of embarrassment floods your body as you try to tug your foot back, but his grip holds firm.

“Stop moving, or you’ll spill it,” he chides, nodding toward the mug in your hands. You glance down, realizing how precariously it sways with your movements, and you freeze.

You wince as his thumb presses into the ball of your foot, but the sting is fleeting. The ache subsides with the pressure, and you feel yourself sinking back into the pillow, your resistance waning as he kneads the swell of your foot with both hands.

It feels surreal, like you’ve stumbled into the twilight zone. This was everything you’d wished Ari would do for you—be there, show care.

“Can you at least tell me why?” you finally ask still very suspicious. “You’ve tormented me all day, and for what? It’s not to make Ari jealous. I doubt he even knows—or cares—where I am right now.”

He chuckles softly at your conclusion, the sound low and almost teasing. “Do you remember the old man’s wedding?”

Your brow arches at the sudden change in topic. “Yeah, why?”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Do you remember how much fun we had, though?”

You scoff still gripping the mug its warmth steadying you. “You barely said two words to me that day. What are you talking about?”

He nods, his hands still kneading your foot with surprising tenderness. “I bet if you think long and hard, you’ll remember we had a pretty fun time.”

A chill creeps over you as fragments of that day resurface in your mind. Your body tenses, and your blood runs cold. You blink at him, trying to read his expression, but his back remains turned. The taut fabric of his shirt strains against his muscles as he shifts slightly.

He’s joking. Teasing. He wants you to react just so he can pull the rug out from under you—but there’s something in his tone that doesn’t feel like a joke.

❄️

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[late-to-the-party-81]

Thank you for reading and reblogging!!!

Yesterday's Dream, Today's Nightmare

AN: Okay, this is a re-post of my fic from two days ago. It wasn't showing up in any tags what so ever, so I have deleted the original post and am trying again.

Hello all! I had a little break from writing after my sleepover, but here I am, back on my bullshit, yay!

This fic, my first ever with Ransom, is for @cockslut-padalecki 's #feelingluckychallenge. This fic is DARK, so if that's not your cup of tea, please scroll on by...

Beta'd by @christywantspizza, divider by @firefly-graphics, mood board by me, with credits going to those who took the images.

Please check out my master list

Word Count: 1398

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

CW: Manipulation, Drugging, Rape

You took a few steadying breaths as you walked up the steps to Blood Like Wine, the publishing house that you’d just landed a job at. This wasn’t any job. No, it was your dream job.

Just four weeks ago you’d been at home when you’d received a letter from the prestigious publishers, owned by famed novelist Harlan Thomby. You worked for another local, but much smaller, company and the closest connection you’d had to BLW was to be a guest at an industry party where they were also in attendance. 

You’d opened the letter, hands shaking with trepidation, and your eyes had skimmed the contents. The next moment you were jumping up and down, screaming and sending your cat dashing across your apartment and under your bed. You’d read it again, unbelieving, but there it was, in black and white. Blood Like Wine had headhunted you and wanted you to start as soon as possible. You actually had difficulty comprehending the starting salary. 

So you’d given notice at your current firm and confirmed everything with your new employer over email with one of the company administrators. Now here you were.

You pushed open the doors, marvelling at the opulence of just the reception hallway.  There was a smartly dressed woman behind the desk and you made your way towards her. However, you were interrupted by the appearance of a very tall, very handsome man, wearing a cable-knit sweater and dark slacks. He strode up to you.

“Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to Blood Like Wine.” He grasped your hand and shook it, then turned to the receptionist. “Don’t worry, Kelly, I’ve got this.” Looking back at you, he smiled and you felt a jolt of heat making its way down your body. “I’m Ransom Drysdale, Harlan’s grandson. Let me show you around.”

He guided you into the main body of the building with ease, and you could feel a tingling through your clothes where his hand lay against the small of your back. You were herded down the wide corridors and into a large office, where he slid past you and gesticulated to the plush arm-chair, facing his desk.

“Please, sit. Drink?”

He was standing next to a drink’s trolley, a cut crystal decanter in his hand, shaking it gently in your direction.

“Umm, thank you, Mr. Drysdale…”

“Ransom, please.”

“... Ransom, but it’s a bit too early for me. Umm, could I have a glass of water, though?”

“Sure, sweetheart, soda okay?”  

You felt a wave of embarrassment, tinged with frustration, wash over you at the pet-name, but you tamped it down, not wanting to cause an issue on your first day. You were glad he had turned his back to you, whilst he fixed the drinks, because it meant that he couldn’t see the expression that flashed over your face. It was always disappointing when the handsome ones ended up being pigs.  

Your smile was back on your face when he returned with your drink, passing it to you and then perching on his desk, sipping his own. 

The height difference between the large piece of wooden furniture and the soft chair you were in left him towering over you and your face level with his crotch. 

Great. So you could either tilt your head all the way back to look up at him, getting a crick in your neck or stare at his bits. You tossed back half your soda and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m so glad you took up the offer of employment. You might not know it, but you’ve been garnering attention.”

He shifted against the desk, the movement tightening the fabric across the front of his pants. Your eyes momentarily flicked down, but returned to his face almost immediately.

“And I’m glad to be here… Ransom. It’s always been a dream to work for your grandfather’s company.”

“So, you’re gonna be working closely alongside me, toots, which means we’re gonna get to know each other really well.”

You kept a smile on your face, trying to ignore the sirens going off in your head, because he couldn’t really mean what that sounded like? It must be bad phrasing, or he’s trying to see how you do under pressure. Yes, that must be it, but there was a small twitch to his lips, like he was trying to control a smirk.  

You placed your, now empty, glass down on the side table with a shaky hand, and stood up, smoothing your skirt.

“I’m sure you’ll be impressed by my professionalism.” You moved behind the chair, attempting to use it as a subtle shield. “Now, can you show me where I’ll be working. I’m sure there’s a number of systems to get set up on and for me to learn.”

Was it getting hot in here? You felt warm and shifted on your feet at the mild discomfort.

Ransom also put his glass down, pushed away from the desk and stepped towards you, reaching your side in two long-legged strides. Feeling your personal space being violated you attempted to take a step back, but wobbled on your feet, and Ransom’s hands shot out to clasp your upper arms.

“Hey, be careful now, sweetheart. Don’t wanna have an accident on your first day.”

You were feeling dizzy, and foggy, and so very warm.

“Not… your… sweetheart.”

You heard your words as if underwater, slurred and not quite right. The alarms in your head were deafening and you tried to push away from Ransom, but his grip tightened.

“But you are. You have been since I saw you at the party the other month. The way that dress clung to you, the way you laughed. Knew you were mine.”  The last word was vehement, and you risked a glance up to his face.

In your fogged state, his handsome face had taken on a sinister, predatory, façade and a whimper of fear forced its way out of your mouth. He spun the pair of you and started to steer you, backwards, across the room.

“It was so easy to send you that letter, and then add something to your water. Now you’re here with me, where you’re supposed to be and you’re gonna be a good girl, alright?”

Your legs bumped against something and you felt yourself being lowered down. Your swirling brain supplied you with the words ‘chaise lounge’, but it felt as though you were swimming through mud.

Your back hit the cushions and Ransom leaned over you, his mouth descending to smash his lips against your own. You whimpered again, but he used the moment to push his tongue into your mouth, like an invader. One of his large hands untucked your blouse from your skirt and pulled it open, to roughly palm at your breast.

His hips slotted between your legs and circled to grind his erection against your core. He grunted into your mouth and cruelly pinched your nipple through your bra. You tried to push him off, but your arms wouldn’t obey you and batted ineffectually against his arms.

He rose up, to look down on your face, his smile wide and terrifying. Letting go of you, secure that the roofie he’d slipped you was doing its job, he pushed your pencil skirt up to bunch around your waist. He then tugged at the seam of your pantyhose until they split up the middle and pushed your underwear to the side.

You squeaked in fear, and tried to flail your arms, but Ransom just ‘tutted’ and stroked your face. 

“You’ll love me in time, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your bared sex and spat on it, before rubbing his saliva around, over your clit and your folds, with his thumb. He undid his pants, drawing out his cock and jerking it a few times. In your hazy vision, you could tell he was big, and you tried once again to get away.

“Oh, that’s not nice. You being a brat? Imma fuck that out of you.”

He pressed his cock, red and weeping against your pussy and you felt tears starting to roll down your face. He wiped one off with his thumb and sucked the salty droplet into his mouth.

Then he pushed home.

You cried out, or at least tried to, and with every one of his rough thrusts prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @beelicious-barnes @yarnforbrains @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @turbolisedcomet @goldylions

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Warnings: non/dubcon, titty fucking, nipple clamps, butt plug, allusions to abuse, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You're a good girl for Christmas.

Character: Ransom Drysdale

Day Two of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - you have to behave if you want your present.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The pinch makes you hiss as you repress the squeak in your throat. The metal bites into your breast, latched onto your tender bud. Ransom opens the other and clamps it into place and you blow out another willowy breath. 

"Now, you gonna be a good girl for me?" He steps back and puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head as he takes in your naked figure. 

"Yes, sir." You murmur as you twiddle your finger, itching to tear off the nipple clamps. 

"Hmm, just to be safe," he turns and goes to the night stand. "Bend over for me, baby, let me see the peach." 

You suppress the ripple of humiliation and turn your back to him. You put your head down and stare at your pedicure. You bend and extend your fingertips to the floor to balance yourself. 

He approaches you and slaps your ass. You expect that, he can never keep his hands to himself, yet the sting makes you gasp. He digs his nails in and growls. 

"Goddamn, almost wanna skip dinner and stay home and eat dessert," he purrs and carresses your hot flesh. He gets close to your crack and tuts, "mm, good job, baby." 

You close your eyes as another tide of shame crests. The day before you spent making sure you were perfect. From head to toe. No hair, no blemishes, nothing. Masks, wax, tweezers, lotions, balms... it's all too much yet for the Thrombey heir, there's never enough. 

The cap of the bottle clicks and a coolness dribbles down your crack. He follows the trickle with his thick finger and smears it around your puckered hole. You contract against his touch and he chuckles. 

He backs away and returns to the drawer. You listen to his footsteps, so familiar with the noise of his movement that you know exactly where he is without looking. He comes back to you, another strike across your ass. You tighten again. 

He hums and slips something hard and smooth between your cheeks. He wiggles the tip along your ring and you suck in a chestful of air. You brace yourself for the intrusion. 

"You don't loosen up, and you're going to be crying at the table," he chortles and pushes the tip into you. 

You try to ease your muscles but it only makes you tense. The clamps, the plug, the thought of sitting through the family dinner, it's all a bit much. He dip the silicon into you until you're stretched to your limit. The lube slightly soothes even as the hot pain pulses. 

You close around the stem and let out a thigh. He rubs the bejeweled end of the plug and wiggles it until you whine. He lets his fingers wander down and tickles your lips, delving between to feel the wet betrayal of your body. 

"You have to behave if you want your present," he prods your entrance, "you get me, baby girl?" 

"Yes, sir," you answer. 

He pushes as if he might go further then thinks better of it. He pulls away and drones. He turns and struts away as you open your eyes and watch his lazy steps around your legs. 

"Stand up, get dressed," he commands as he spins and flops on the bed. "My mom will kill me if I'm late again." 

🎁

"Your grandfather says your imprint is looking for new writers. Still," Linda interrogates Ransom as he curls his fingers into your hip. He keeps you close, almost like a shield as he navigates the room of his relatives. He's as tense as if they were strangers, as they are to you. "How much time have you been spending with this... girlfriend?" She eyes you up and down. "You should be focused on work." 

He digs his nails into you, through the red satin of the dress he chose for you. 

"Imprints making a profit, even if we do need some authors," Ransom argues. "You can ask grandfather about our last budget report. You know he goes on about numbers, but he's always so hung up on the names." 

"Well, you wouldn't have much to publish without writers," Linda reprimands. 

He pinches the fabric as his frustration locks up his grip. He tugs at the satin and it brushes against your chest, the clamps you try not to think of even as they bite into you. You're certain everyone's noticed the pertness made obvious by your braless states. Anther of Ransom's demands. No bra, no panties. It's like he wants you to take the attention away from him. You almost can't blame him despite your embarrassment. 

“If grandfather thinks I’m not doing my job, we both know he’ll get rid of me,” Ransom huffs. “Merry Christmas to you too, mom.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean, just realistic.” She shoots you another sharp look. “You can’t be wasting your time on woman you mean to do nothing with.” 

You bristle. You’re not one for confrontation, you think that might be why Ransom keeps you around, but you’re irked to be spoken of as if you are some lifeless doll without an ounce of free will. Maybe that is what you are. Maybe that’s what he’s made you. 

“You know nothing about my intentions,” Ransom sneers. “I’m going to find my dad.” 

“Good luck,” she scoffs. “Oh, and sweetie,” she steps closer and pulls your dress strap across your shoulder before it can fall, “it’s much too cold for satin.” 

Ransom unhooks his arm from around you and takes your hand instead. He grumbles and tugs you away from his mother as she puts her lips to her crystal glass of mulled cider. You’re all too happy to get away from her. 

“Fuck it,” he growls under his breath. 

You expect him to guide you towards the cluster of figures awash in the rustic glow of the fireplace. Instead, he sidles you through the archway to your left and past the wide-mouthed staircase. He snakes around the banister and ushers you into a door just behind. 

He lets you go with another sigh. He shuts the door and leans against it. You stand patiently, shifting your weight on the pencil thin heels. He tilts his head back as he closes his eyes. 

You know better than to break the silence. He takes a deep breath as his nostrils flare and he lets it out slowly. He sets his head straight and flicks his lashes open. His eyes creep up and down your body. He smirks. 

“Baby, you’ve been so good to me, haven’t you?” He drawls. “Look at you, so sweet for me.” 

“Yes, sir,” you push your hands behind you and clasp them tight. 

“God, you’re such a slut,” he pushes away from the door and comes close. “Look at you,” he covers your tits with his hands and kneads, causing the clamps to pinch harder. You whimper and teeter on your toes. “Walking around like this. Everyone can see you, you know? They see what’s mine and they know better than to touch it.” 

He tweaks the clamps and you whine. You pout as you look down as he trails his touch down your stomach. He steps flush to you and loops his arm around you. He pushes against the satin and forces it between your cheeks until he touches the hard jewel of the plug. 

“Fuck,” he grits as the plug twitches as you clench. “You are so fucking dirty.” 

You bring your hands to his biceps, resting them lightly on his bulging sleeves, and force a purr from your throat. You don’t like it but he does. He loves to talk to you like that even though he’s the only one. The first one. 

“Do you want your present now, baby?” He asks. 

You bat your lashes and nod. You won’t deny him anything. Just the thought inspires the vision of spit flying and eyes blazing, the angry roar of his displeasure, the fiery lash of his palm. 

“Alright, baby, you gotta get on your knees,” he says. “And beg me for it.” 

You hesitate, for a split second, and pray it isn’t long enough for him to notice. You drag your hands down his arms as you lower yourself to one knee then angle the other under you. You drop your hands to your thighs and look up at him. 

“Please, sir, may I have my present now?” You ask politely. 

“Hm, why should you get that?” He challenges. 

“Because sir, I’ve been a good girl for you,” you say. 

He grins and grips his hips, poking his tongue out devilishly. “And how have you been a good girl?” 

“Sir, my hole is plugged just like you want it and my nipples are swollen and tender for you.” 

He snickers and hums. “Fuck, but you’re a bad girl, aren’t you? You got me hard and hurting.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say. 

“Baby, you know what else makes you a bad girl?” You shake your head as he watches you with a menacing gleam. “You’re not naked for me.” 

You swiftly grab the straps of your dress and pull them down your shoulders and arms. You free your wrists and shimmy the satin down past your waist until it pools around your knees. You stare up at him, completely exposed. 

“Fuck, I love those tits,” he slither. “Baby, you can have your present,” he looks down and pushes his pelvis out. His pants tent around his arousal. “Go ahead and unwrap it.” 

You obey. You unbuckle his belt and daintily unbutton his fly. He squirms and groans as you brush the front of his pants with your hands and as you undo his zipper, he shudders. 

You roll his pants down his thighs, then his boxers. You angle his tip past the elastic and he stands rigid above, bobbing just slightly. You look at it, almost crossed-eyed. 

You don’t weight for his command. You grab onto him and pump him. He groans but leans away from you. He tisks. 

“No, no,” he says. “Push your tits together.” 

You gently cup your tits and swallow a moan at the tenderness pinpointed in your nipples. You crush them together so they bulge as he moves around. He drags a chair around and sits in front of you. He grabs your head and urges you closer. 

He beckons you with his other hand, flicking two fingers. You walk on your knees until you’re between him. He pushes his tip down then aims it up between your cleavage until he pops up above the swell of your chest. 

His swollen head hits your chin and he laughs again. He clutches your hair in his fist and forces you to bend your neck. As he thrusts again, he taps your lips. You know what he wants without him saying it.  

You open your lips and take him in. He groans and he shoves you down his length, halfway until you meet the top of your tits. He pulls you back so you pop off then rams you down again. He does it again and again. Pushing you onto his dick then drag you off just as quickly. 

As your lips part, saliva drips out and strings between your mouth and his glistening head. You puff out shallow breaths as he uses you like a toy. He curves his hand under your chin and slides to the edge of the chair. 

“Look at me, baby,” he demands. 

Your eyes flick up as he invades your mouth again. He smirks as he shoves you down then lifts you up again. The noise of your mouth sucking then popping off fills the space beneath his sultry groans. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he rasps and holds you down on him. “I’m about to fill you all up with your present, you ready?” 

He keeps your head still, pumping his hips instead. The friction between your tits and the wetness of your mouth riles him. You taste the saltiness mingling with your spit. You know, even before he grunts that he’s there. 

He spills into you, fucking through his climax as he whines in relief. You gulp him down and purr in faux delight. You don’t have to be happy, you just have to pretend enough to keep him nice. 

[krirebr]

Updated 1/13/25

Tag lists are open

Here is a current list of all of the work I've posted here. I write mostly for Chris Evans characters and all of my stories are intended for an 18+ audience. Minors please DNI.

Requests are closed but my asks are always open! Come riff with me or send asks/what ifs about any of my works! But no NSFW GIFs, please and thank you! 💜

🖤 Dark 🩶 Soft!Dark 😥 Angst 🥵 Smut ⭐️New/Updated

Trapped AU

Andy keeps telling you how lucky you are that he chose you to be his wife. 🖤 😥

Head Over Heels

All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.

I Know I Should Know Better series

Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it? 😥🥵

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Luck Be a Lady

Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head? 🩶🥵

Still Life

Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad... 😥⭐️

Drabbles & Headcanons

Curtis + soft!dark + soothe 🖤

Curtis Takes the Snowpiercer 🖤🥵

Curtis + Possessive 🥵

Just Part of the Process - I Know I Should Know Better AU - Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader 😥

Heads Will Roll series

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Relax

A Merry Little Christmas

Killing Moon

When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.

Giving Me a Thrill

A few years after your divorce, a friend gives you a nudge to try something new.

Psycho Killer AU

A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two 🖤🥵😥

More Than This series

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

I'm Feeling Like I Never Should

It's bad enough you've been forced to be at this charity gala, but now you have to deal with your ex, Ransom.

Drabbles & Headcanons

Jealous Ex Ransom

Sequel 🥵

End

No Way of Knowing - More Than This What If 😥

What You Can Do For Your Country

Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help. 🖤

Everybody Wants to Rule the World series

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste. 🖤🥵

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two

Drabbles & Headcanons

Arranged Marriage Steve Headcanon

Tell Me One Thing - More Than This What If 😥

What if Reader was into it? - What You Can Do For Your Country What If 🖤

We're All Monsters

Multi-character, multi-reader vampire AU 🖤😥🥵

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Pay Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

THIS IS A DARK FIC!!! Heed the warnings and tread carefully I cannot stress enough. If any warnings trigger you do not progress,

✧Pairing ✧ Lloyd Hansen x Reader x Ransom Drysdale

✧Warnings✧ Dub/Non-Con Themes!!! — Drinking, Cheating, Mentions of feeling sick (sorry emetophobic people) Crushing (in a romantic sense), stalking??, Lloyd Hansen, no really he is a pos in this, Unconsented touching (non sexual), Drugging, panty kink (probably), Ransom your saviour, actually not because he’s also a pos, Biting, Recording, Dirty talk, Humiliation, Degradation, Fingering (F), Pussy Slapping, Squirting, lil Cum play, alluding to Oral (F) — If I have missed anymore, especially in a story like this one please let me know and I shall add it right away.

✧Word Count✧ 1.9k

✧Author Note✧ so while I am visiting family and working on my Stevie series and a few other things I thought I would give you these two because if I don’t get this out my drafts I’ll scream.

You should’ve known better than to attend these parties. Ransom’s parties never ended well for anyone but it had been so long and you wanted to let your hair down, have some fun.

Maybe you should’ve stopped after the first drink you were given had you buzzed but you always were a glutton for punishment so you went back for a second and a third. Now you were tipsy, heels discarded in the corner of the room somewhere and desperately horny. The only issue was your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

You checked the kitchen, living room, outside — he was nowhere. Eventually you stumbled upstairs, a cacophony of wet skin and sharp moans reaching you. Couples sneaking off to fuck was normal for these things but for some reason, a feeling deep within your gut made you feel like you had to investigate.

The door to the room was ajar, all it took was a soft shove for it to open fully. What you didn’t expect was the scene in front of you. Your jaw dropped to the floor at the sight, your boyfriend lying on his back while some drunk slut rode him to filth. All at once the wall protecting your mind from registering the scene crumbled, a slew of emotions bursting forth like water from a dam. You felt sick, the alcohol in your stomach threatening to bubble back up your throat.

“Ohh fu—baby?” Your boyfriend turned noticing you were there. At the mention of the pet name he so endearingly called you, you gagged, tears springing into your eyes. Turning on your heel before he could wiggle out of his compromised position, you sprinted out of the room, to the only place you knew would be vacant.

Ransom’s room was huge. It was a lot less colourful than what you could remember, had it really been that long since you’d been in here? Surely not, that meant you’d been avoiding Ran for longer than you thought. It was all thanks to your now ex boyfriend.

Ransom had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, he was a few years older than you and treated you like shit sometimes but thanks to a horrible upbringing and not knowing any better you found his treatment loving and developed a little crush on the brunette in your teenage years. After you made it official with your boyfriend he forced you to cut ties with any person he saw as a threat, that included Ransom.

You sank onto the bed, curling into a little ball as you sobbed, uncaring of mascara streaks running down your face. Your night was ruined anyway.

Lloyd watched as you stepped up the stairs, following behind with a fair distance as to not arouse suspicion. He watched as you caught your boyfriend fucking another girl, watched as you stumbled your way out of the room and into Ransom’s. He knew then that you were ripe for picking.

Lloyd had his eye on you for a while. You were cute, and completely stupid in his eyes. You trusted everyone and anything to come from their mouths without so much as a second thought.

You ignored the soft squeak of Ransom’s door, choosing instead to bury yourself into the musk of his sheets. Your earlier horniness flaring up again at the scent of another man. You felt disgusted by just how easily you soaked yourself.

“Cupcakeee” he sang, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. If there was one person worse than your boyfriend or Ransom Drysdale it was him. Lloyd Hansen. You’d spoken to him a few times but he was very handsy and said things that would have an incubus curling away in disgust.

You’d met him at the start of your night, his hands on your hips and dancing to the music while you tried desperately to push yourself away from him. He let you go with a laugh but kept a close eye on you until now.

He was the last person you wanted to speak to but he’s was hard to get rid of.

“Lloyd” you spoke bitterly, voice a little raspy. You sat up on the bed, avoiding his strong gaze.

“Why the tears pumpkin? Are you not enjoying yourself?” He smiled wickedly, you could tell that he knew why. When he tried to push a strand of your hair away from your face you smacked his hand away.

“Wow feisty” he laughed and you scoffed.

“Leave me alone Lloyd.”

He cleared his throat, squatting down in front of you. Those tight white pants stretching impossibly against his thick thighs. His ringed fingers splayed over your thighs, his chin resting on your knees.

“Hey now I’m just tryna help, that’s no way to treat someone tryna help you sugar” he sounded almost sad but his face shone with a smugness only he was capable of.

“That boyfriend of yours away fucking other women huh?” He questioned, turning his head to rest his cheek against your knee bone instead. His hands squished the fat of your thighs a little hard but not enough to cause any searing pain. The tips of fingers danced over the hem of your too short dress.

From this angle Lloyd could see straight up the skirt, getting an eyeful of those pretty baby pink panties. Ones he’d caught you in before, his favourite pair ever since. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, he wanted nothing more than to taste that sweet cunt but he had to play this tactically.

“You wanna talk about it princess?” He says, distracting you from his wandering hands as they inched up under your dress.

“Stop Lloyd” you warned, gripping at his forearms. You felt weak, embarrassingly so, you knew for a fact you were so much stronger than this. Your brain felt foggy, your words slurring. Then it clicked. Lloyd smiled dangerously.

“Come on Crumbcake, let me make you feel good.”

All it took was a small shove for you to flop back onto the bed, your world spinning as you stared up at the ceiling. You protested as he bunched your dress up at your hips but you couldn’t fight.

“Fuck look at these beautiful panties, all pink and pretty, just like you huh cupcake?” his lips kissed down your inner thigh. Your hands felt heavy, you wanted to push his head away but the hot feeling his mouth left was too inviting.

He stopped his kisses as he reached your panties, taking in the dark patch you’d made, he almost moaned aloud at the sight. He leaned forward, pushing his face into the material and sniffed harshly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at your scent, a groan tumbling from his mouth. His teeth sank into the fabric, your taste sweet on the tip of his tongue. He felt like he was going to bust and he hadn’t even seen your pussy yet.

“Starting without me Lloyd?” You perked up at the new voice — new but oh so familiar.

Lloyd sighed as he let go of the fabric, turning to the man closing the door with a glare.

“No” he spat “just having a look.”

“That’s starting without me” the voice returned.

“Oh piss off Ransom.”

That’s who it was, relief pooling in your veins as you recognised him. Maybe he’d come to help you, whisk you away from the madman between your legs.

You wet your dry lips, sucking in a few breaths before trying to speak. Your jaw felt so heavy.

“R-Ran” you slurred. When you tried to raise your head you couldn’t. You let out a frustrated moan.

“Hey pretty girl” Ransom cooed, crawling onto the bed until he was in your line of sight. His hand brushed over your cheek softly, the feeling so comforting compared to the tingles all over your body. You smiled up at him, small tears falling from your eyes. Your saviour.

“H-help” you whispered. Your fingers twitched but you couldn’t reach out to him. Ran shushed you gently, murmuring comforting words that only he knew. Words from when you were both children and you hurt yourself playing with the bigger boys.

“It’s gonna be ok pretty girl, Lloyd just needs one little thing” and like that your world crumbled. Ransom wasn’t your saviour, he was here to help the beast that currently sucked dark marks over your skin.

“R-Ran no please” you sobbed, your lips wobbling as your vision blurred with fat tears. This time Ransom’s comfort did nothing but make you feel worse. He tried his best to calm you down but to no avail.

You yelled weakly at the painful reminder of just who else was there shot from your thigh. Lloyd bit the sensitive skin until he tasted copper.

“I don’t have all day,” he grunted. Ransom sighed, moving off the bed and away from you. Lloyd took his place behind you, gathering your almost limp body into his arms and pulling you into his chest, his thighs on either side of yours as he leaned back against the headboard.

At this new angle you could see Ransom at the foot of the bed, his phone in his hand. You gulped the thick slew of emotions ranging from disgust to terror down.

“Here’s the thing pumpkin” Lloyd growled in your ear, his hands ripping the top part of your dress until your breasts spilled from the fabric.

“Your little boyfriend fucked up tonight in more ways than one, he owes me and Rannie here a whole lot of money…so you sugar, you’re gonna be our little payback alright? Don’t worry though I won’t hurt you too much, especially not if you do as I say. So just relax, you never know…you might enjoy it too.”

Lloyd’s hands explored your body, one hand grasping at one of your tits while the other wandered down your body until it slipped into your panties. You shut your eyes, trying to hide the fact that his fingers circling your clit felt good. The snap of your panties waistband had you whimpering, the fabric falling until your sopping cunt was exposed to both men.

The flash of Ransom’s phone almost blinded you. He shuffled forward, pointing the camera at your pussy. Lloyd chuckled as his fingers slipped through your folds, completely soaked by the time they reached your clit.

“Fuck cupcake you’re enjoying this ain’t you? Bet you like having that pretty pussy filmed, is that why you’re so wet? Or is it because I’m the one touching it? Or maybe” his nose bumped the side of your head as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Maybe it’s because of Rannie, is that it pudding? Are you soaked because your little crush is watching you?”

You tried to shake your head at it all. It was none of them, it wasn’t Lloyd, it wasn’t Ransom and it wasn’t the camera. So what was it then?

The stretching of your pussy around Lloyd’s fingers caught you off guard, a painfully pleasured moan escaping you before you could bite it back. Lloyd smirked at your unravelling. His fingers fucked you quickly, the heel of his palm grinding against your swollen clit.

“Fuck that little pussy is singing for me, listen to that Ran, thought you didn’t want this hm? If you didn’t want this then why is your pussy fucking soaked” he spat, his fingers pulling out of you to land a harsh smack against your pussy causing you to shudder. You didn’t have any time to relax from the pain before three of his ringed fingers were back inside you, spreading you out like you never felt before.

You whined in protest as your stomach coiled, ropes of pleasure bundling together almost painfully.

“Ohh look at that, you gonna cum? Such a pathetic whiny slut, putting up a big fight but she’s gonna cum over my fucking fingers. Let go cupcake, cum, soak me—do it” he demanded, the sharp tone to his words capturing you and dragging you down to the pits.

You heard a pitiful squeal, you think it was from you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your pussy gushed over Lloyd’s fingers, almost soaking Ransom and his phone. Lloyd didn’t stop until he knew you were done, that your body had spent all of its juices. His fingers slipped from you, all connected with strings of your cum.

He smeared his hand over your face before capturing your unresponsive lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue lashing with yours and his teeth biting your lips.

“Let’s see how your little boyfriend responds to that shall we?” Lloyd speaks with a cheery lilt.

“But while we wait, let’s let Rannie get a taste of that pussy ok?” He turned your face to meet his gaze. You couldn’t respond, only letting out a soft grunt.

“Good girl.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated, although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[trinittyy]

fic recs

just a little assortment of my favorite works to keep track of them and also show love to the respective writers.

note - a majority, if not all, of the following works contain dark content that some could find triggering. tread carefully.

divider by @firefly-graphics

toxic affection - @love-toxin

warnings: harassment, bullying, some violence, forced relationship

pairing: yandere!bakugou x reader

literally unashamed to say that BNHA fanfiction is what brought me to Tumblr

but this was one of the first I found and it's epic

what's your escape - @gotnofucks

warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, non-con

pairing: dark!sherlock holmes x reader

the man is disastrously down bad for the poor reader

she was so witty and clever but in the end, he got what he wanted in the most satisfying way

infatuation - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor - masterlist

warnings: mentions of stalking, obsession, non-con

pairing: dark!clark kent x reader

poor girl didn't have a clue or a chance in the world to escape this man

sidenote: I can't add Roo to the recs without mentioning just how talented she is. She was the first proper introduction to dark fics in the Marvel fandom and I've been hooked ever since. The amount of detail and dedication that goes into her work is noticeable and she's a talent that deserves recognition. It's one thing to make me like a fic or two of my favorite Marvel men but another to have me thirst over shit I didn't think I'd like.

naughty ransom holiday tales - @jtargaryen18

warnings: kidnapping, non-con, dub-con

pairing: dark!ransom drysdale x reader

guilty pleasure series

hate to love ransom but I can't help it

what the king has - @sincerelythedarkside

warnings: dub-con, character death

pairing: soft!dark steve rogers x reader

royal au

love me a good jealous steve

plot twist shocked the shit outta me

smut was out of this fucking world

love bites - @cherienymphe - masterlist

warnings: character death, jealousy, non-con

pairing: dark!steve rogers x reader, peter parker x reader

modern vampire au (what's not to love there)

this actually made me cry like a bitch

ongoing series

sidenote: Seeing as Cherie will be on this list many times, I have to say it's difficult not to add every piece of work on this list because while some writers have a magnum opus, everything she writes is a work of art. Her range and the backstory she puts in her characters make each story feel like a movie I just can't get enough of. Will forever love her writing.

kryptonite - @cherienymphe

warnings: non-con, obsession

pairing: dark!bruce wayne x reader

the build-up and tension gave me actual chills

trailer park babydoll - @mypoisonedvine

warnings: dub-con, infidelity, age gap

pairing: wayne munson x reader

guilty pleasure fic

absolute filthy smut

wrath of the dragon - @straywords

warnings: non-con, chasing

pairing: dark!daemon targaryen x reader

yet another down bad man

overdue - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

warnings: creepy curtis, non-con, obsessive behavior

pairing: dark!curtis everett x reader

there's little to nothing i love more than a good ole broody man with attachment issues

anxious - @syntheticavenger

warnings: stalking, kidnapping

pairing: dark!peter parker x reader

tasm peter

cutest in a way lol little fic

the dream that got away - @dotieeee

there's not nearly enough dark fics ft my fave peter so I love this one

warnings: dub-con, non-con, manipulation, controlling behavior, obsession

pairing: dark!morpheus x oc!mera

probably the first dark fic about morpheus

each chapter was a masterpiece

and i still haven't seen the show lol

thanks for the invite - @syntheticavenger

warnings: non-con, bitchy friend behavior, implied drugging (i think), oral (f receiving), slight bondage

pairing: dark!lloyd hansen x reader

a funny little unhinged lloyd fic

rsvp - @syntheticavenger

warnings: dub-con, hide and seek, exasperated bodyguard, exhibitionism (a bit)

sequel to the fic listed above

lloyd is still unhinged and reader is still suffering

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

in the sugar and spice universe, the boys know that she cams and i assume that she’s aware that her roommates watch, but does she know about ransom watching?

a/n: i. am. gnawing. at. my. cage.

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist

we’ve already established that his discovery of your little hobby was what ended your relationship. i imagine that he fell over your stream while just browsing for something to jerk off to and then BOOM, there you were. 

in true asshole fashion, he of course confronted you about it in a big ol fight:

“choose. come on. me or that.”

“ransom,” you sighed as he kept on pushing.

“come on,” he roared, “just pick goddamn it!”

“that!” you blurted as he kept on yelling, “i wanna keep camming!” though that statement hadn’t been what he’d predicted, “it makes me happy and you–…”

“…i don’t?”

“not lately…”

“well how else would you think i’d react to finding out my girl has secretly been whoring herself out to anyone with an internet connection?”

the slap you then crack against his cheek echoed throughout the whole room, “fuck you,” you spat, “don’t ever talk to me, don’t even look at me, ever again.”

and then you tried to stay as far away from him as possible even though i think he would have kept trying to worm his way back into your good graces (because he obviously fucked up)

you also moved in with steve, bucky and curtis after the breakup and i imagine they began to act as your bodyguards when it came to your ex. keeping an eye out and helping you avoid him at all costs. 

but the thing is, from the moment that he first discovered your stream, and honestly also as a way to lick his wounds post-breakup, he kept going back to it, kept opening up the website till it was permanently open on his phone, always ready for when you went live or posted something (a pic or vid or just flirty message)

it was like an addiction and he couldn’t stop

he wasn’t even ashamed about it because to him it was a way to keep your faded relationship alive, keep you with him and for a generous tip (which he could more than afford as the trust fund kid he was) you’d still do as he wished, still follow his sinful commands.

turn around, let me see that ass

be a good girl and turn up the speed

send me those panties after you’ve soaked them with your cream, i’ll pay double your usual rate for the underwear you sell.

did you know that TittyCokeKingXXX, one of your most loyal followers and top tippers, was your ex? hell no.

how would you finally discover his true identity? maybe it would be at a party you’re both at, a celebration after the football team’s latest victory (of which both your roomies steve and bucky are on, but unfortunately so is ransom) 

he probably gets too drunk and then the truth starts slipping out

maybe he thinks he still has a shot, but just as you turn him down, he gets petty and accidentally blurts out, “well you didn’t seem to have a problem with me last night when you were calling me sir and making yourself squirt in the shower.” 

the image of you crumbled on the tile floor, shower head blasting in your hand as you ripped it away from your overstimulated clit was still seared into his brain. tits all soapy, yet he could still make out the faint letters of the possessive scrawling he'd paid you to scribble with marker the week before reading daddy’s girl

“…how do you know that?” you uttered and he suddenly realised that he’d actually said those words out loud and not just thought them as usual, “ransom, how the fuck do you know that?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Family Affair

Chapter 3

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Harlan's money ruled the world of your husband and in-laws. When Harlan cuts his family off the rift between siblings grows larger and you are somehow caught in the middle.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Slow Burn

Dark Ari x Reader, Dark Ransom x Reader (Pregnant reader)

🍼

The paper gown crinkles beneath you as you shift, its sterile chill pressing into your skin. The fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead, casting a stark, clinical glow that makes every edge and shadow feel sharper, magnifying the emptiness of the room. You rest a hand on the edge of the paper sheet, fingers tracing its texture, trying to steady the nerves pooling in your stomach.

Ari had promised to be here. But here you are, and he isn’t. It’s like he’s still overseas. Nothing has changed.

The door clicks open, and you turn, feeling a flicker of hope before it dies. It’s not him.

Ransom steps in, filling the space with his usual careless confidence. He casts an idle glance over the instruments lined up on the tray, ignoring your look of shock and frustration.

“What are you doing here?” you murmur, your voice low, hoping the simple act of curling inward might shield you from him.

“Where's the doc?" he asks, voice dripping with boredom.

“He’s coming.” You sit up a little straighter. “I don’t know why you’re here, but you shouldn’t be. Just go,” you hiss.

“And leave my sweet sister-in-law all alone? Nah.” He smirks.

“Ari… he should be—”

Ransom scoffs and starts rummaging through the cabinets, noisily. “Don’t be stupid. You know as well as I do he’s not coming.” His voice is curt, and you feel your hope slipping. Deep down, you know he’s probably right. But part of you still wants to believe he’ll show up, even if you know the truth.

Your eyes start to sting, a familiar ache in your chest. You blink back the tears, turning away before they can fall.

"And how exactly are you getting home, hm?” He snorts. “I heard that piece-of-junk Civic of yours is broken down, so you must’ve taken the bus. There’s three inches of snow outside. That’s not happening.”

“I’ll call Linda.”

“So, not my brother then?” he quips, quick and cutting. “Guess he’s too busy to be here for his pregnant wife. Probably has his nose so far up the old man’s ass that you’re the last thing on his mind.”

He moves to another cabinet, rummaging around with a casual disregard. You try to ignore him, you still have a sliver of hope. Ari was probably running late,maybe due to the snow. You’d made this appointment especially for him to share in this moment.

A gentle knock breaks through, and you exhale. You press a hand to your stomach, as if to soothe both the tension and the tiny life inside you.

“Sorry I’m late; another appointment ran a little over,” Dr. Rogers says as he enters, clipboard in hand, his smile a welcome reprieve.

Ransom doesn’t miss a beat. “You always this late?” he mutters, shooting the doctor a sideways glance. But Dr. Rogers keeps his calm, focusing on you, his expression softening.

“My apologies,” Dr. Rogers says. “An emergency ran over.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you say quickly, trying to defuse the tension.

Dr. Rogers glances at Ransom, brow slightly raised. "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t disturb the equipment. Thank you," he says smoothly before turning back to you, his professional demeanor firmly intact.

“Nice to see you again,” he says to you warmly. “And may I ask who we have joining us today?”

“Her husband,” Ransom lies smoothly moving closer to your side.

You glare at him, holding back the urge to confront him right here. Why he’s doing this, you have no idea.

“Well, nice to finally meet you,” Dr. Rogers replies, a thin veneer of professionalism barely masking his judgment. “I’ve heard so much about you. Glad you could finally make time. She’s been quite brave without you.” He gives you a gentle smile. “I heard you were overseas for charity work?”

“Uh, yeah, I just think it’s important to make a difference in the world. I’ve done some volunteer work abroad… hands-on stuff, really rewarding,” Ransom says, voice oozing self-importance. You arch a brow at him. The only person he’s ever cared for is himself.

Dr. Rogers nods. “I hope she’s kept you up to date on her progress. Though I haven’t seen her in quite some time.” His comment is directed at you, and you bristle uncomfortably.

“Sorry… I’ve just been so busy with work.”

“It’s quite alright, as long as you make time now,” Dr. Rogers says. “Now, enough with the small talk. How about we get started?”

🍼

The gel that hits your belly is colder than ice. You try not to squirm, but the added pressure from the ultrasound wand makes it hard to stay still.

Normally, you’d feel embarrassed by the stretch marks that decorate your belly, but that’s the last thing on your mind now. Your gaze is locked on the grainy image on the screen. The figure is hard to make out, but you’re sure it’s your baby. The sight makes your heart flutter, your breath hitch. Ransom leans in, watching closely. You wish it were Ari instead. But you push that thought aside; this moment is too precious. The tiny, pure creature growing inside you doesn’t need your negative feelings toward its father.

“Oh,” the doctor murmurs, pausing with the scanner. Your heart drops, and your mind races with bad thoughts.

“What? Is something wrong?” you ask, voice tight.

“Calm down, everything’s fine,” he assures you, though his tone doesn’t quite ease your worry. You search the monitor, trying to spot whatever he noticed.

“Your initial scan was so early that we didn’t catch it,” he explains. “But if you look here…”

He points at the screen, and Ransom leans in further. “This little one was hiding in the back.”

“Twins,” Ransom says, realization dawning before it fully sinks in for you. The word hits you, and you feel lightheaded. One baby was going to be a challenge—but now two.

🍼

Getting into Ransom’s car feels like willingly stepping into a trap, the cramped interior of his Porsche a cruel reminder that this choice, though far from ideal, beats standing in the biting cold. But at least the creamy leather seats are soft, molding around you with a warmth that eases some of the strain, even as the seat-belt presses a bit too snugly against your belly, already stretched and sensitive.

As he slips into the driver’s seat, you can’t help but wonder why he’s even here. Maybe it has to do with Harlan and his money. You wouldn’t be surprised if the old man offered him a deal—to be nicer to the family in exchange for not being cut off. After all, Harlan’s money was the only reason your husband was back in the country so you wouldn’t be surprised.

Ransom starts the engine, the low hum of the Porsche vibrating beneath you. He glances over with that familiar smirk of his, the one that never quite reaches his eyes.

"Hungry?" he asks, his gaze flicking over your stomach with that casual, insipid interest. "Guessing that baby bump means you’re always hungry, huh?"

You press your lips together. Swallowing the bite of irritation that wants to rise. “Can you please just drop me home?”

"Don’t be a brat," he shoots back, his voice laced with mock sweetness. "You're eating for two… or three now, right?"

You can’t tell if he’s pretending to care or just seizing the chance to slip in as many fat jokes as possible.

“I have food at the house,” you mutter, turning away from him, eyes on the snow drifting outside, unable to block out his presence completely.

"Stop acting like you're so eager to go back to that shit hole." His voice like a quiet knife, cutting through whatever calm you manage to hold on to.

"Ari—"

He scoffs, cutting you off, his tone dripping with something you didn’t care to dissect. "You know as well as I do, you're the last thing on his mind."

You flinch. Pregnancy had a way of making you feel everything too sharply, and his words were no different. The vulnerability that had been building for months threatens to break free. You try to hold it back, but it wasn’t enough. A sniffle escapes. Then another.

“Oh, god.” His voice was low, almost gleeful. "You’re still in love with that asshole. Really?"

You don’t respond. Instead turning more toward the window, holding back another sniffle, hiding your puffy eyes from his judgmental eyes.

You hear him sigh as the Porsche surges forward, the engine purring in protest. Outside, the world blurs into white, snow piling on the road slick with ice. Ransom cuts through it all like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And knowing him, he probably doesn’t.

"Can you slow down, please?" you ask, your voice brittle in the tense silence.

He ignores you. The landscape streaks past, your heart pounding faster with every lurch of the car. Every bump feels like it might send you airborne, your fingers digging into the cold leather as you brace yourself.

“Come on," Ransom says finally, the words almost a sneer. “We need to celebrate the twins. I know this nice little Italian spot downtown. Fettuccine to die for.”

“Ransom!” you squeal, panic bubbling up as the Porsche swerves dangerously. He cut off an eighteen-wheeler, and the truck’s horn bellows through the air like a warning.

He glances over, but there was no trace of concern in his face, just a little amusement. “Now you know better than to call me that.”

The speed and the chaos makes your chest tighten. You stare at him, wide-eyed, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

“Come on," Ransom presses, ignoring the mounting fear. "What are you in the mood for? Huh?"

“I’m fine. Just… please, just take me home," you whisper, trying to control the sob that was threatening to escape.

“Don’t be stupid,” he spits. You scream his name, and his only response was to rattle off more options.

“There's this great little Greek place on Oak.”

“Rans—” You cut yourself off, choking back a sob. "Hughe! Please!”

“Fine. Takeout it is.”

Ransom jerks the car off the highway without warning, red lights zooming closer in a blur. The screech of the tires sends your heart up into your throat. But as he slows, your stomach sinks. The torment isn’t over.

[sosa2imagines]

Blurbs for C.E characters giving their partners nicknames?

Thanks for the ask, I had fun writing this. ❤️

Warning - None, GN.

Steve Rogers- 'Doll'

Steve often called his partner 'doll' in a soft, loving tone, a constant reminder of the deep affection he held for you.

The nickname was more than just a term of endearment; it encapsulated the way he saw you - resilient, beautiful, and an embodiment of strength.

From quiet, stolen moments of affection to public, heartfelt declarations, Steve's use of the nickname was a testament to the depth of his love and respect for his partner.

It was a nickname born from the bond you both shared, a symbol of the trust and tenderness that defined your relationship.

The endearing nickname was one that held a special place in Steve's heart as it reminded him of the simplicity and sweetness of a bygone era.

Each time he used the nickname, it was with a warm and soft smile on his lips.

Modern Steve Rogers- "Baby Doll'

(Modern) Steve had a habit of calling his partner 'baby doll' in a soft, gentle tone, his voice always tinged with affection and tenderness.

The nickname, 'baby doll', was a term of endearment that Steve had chosen specifically for his partner. It was a reflection of the way he saw you- beautiful, vulnerable, and deserving of all the love and care in the world.

Whether he was talking to you in private or addressing you in public, the name carried a weight of endearment that was uniquely his. Whenever Steve referred to his partner as 'baby doll,' it was with a warm smile and possessiveness.

The word 'baby doll' rolled off his tongue effortlessly. It was a pet name that held a special place in the dynamic of your relationship, one that he used often and with great affection and authority.

Each time he called you 'baby doll,' it was a silent declaration of his love and devotion, a reminder of the tenderness and protectiveness he felt towards you.

Dark Steve Rogers- 'Angel'

Whenever he referred to you as 'angel', there was always an undercurrent of possessiveness in his tone.

It was a sign of the twisted sense of ownership he had over you, a term of endearment steeped in a sense of power and domination.

In his mind, you were not just his partner, but his 'angel', a vulnerable and submissive being that he had complete control over.

Each time he called you 'angel', it was a reminder of the dark and possessive nature of your relationship.

You were an Angel made especially and only for him. 'Angel' was more than just a pet name for him.

It was a word that symbolized his twisted perception of her as his possession and property.

Whenever he spoke to you, the tone of his voice was always laced with a mixture of possessiveness and mockery, a subtle reminder of the power dynamic in your relationship.

He used the term with a hint of menace and control, relishing in the way it made you submit to him.

Lloyd Hansen- 'Sugar'

It was a term of endearment that he used often, a reminder of the sweet and playful side he hid beneath his ruthless and dangerous exterior.

Whenever he called you 'sugar', whether in a soft whisper or a teasing tone, there was a hint of warmth and affection in his voice. It was a stark contrast to his usual callous demeanor, a side of him that only you were privy to.

You were the only sweetness in his bitter life. 'Sugar' was a pet name that seemed at odds with the cold and calculating side of Lloyd. It was a word that contradicted his usual harshness and ruthlessness.

Yet, each time he called you 'Sugar,' it was with a tenderness that was only reserved for you.

Whether he was in a good mood or a bad one, the usage of the term 'Sugar' was a way for Lloyd to express a part of himself that he kept hidden from the rest of the world.

You were the only one who could bring out that softer side in him.

Andy Barber- 'Sweetheart'

The term 'sweetheart' was not just a pet name. It was a reflection of the deep love and affection he had for you. Whether he was in a public setting or in the privacy of their home, Andy would use 'sweetheart' as a term of endearment, his voice always laced with a hint of tenderness and care.

You were his sweetheart, the one who held a special place in his heart. The use of the term 'sweetheart' was a small but significant way for Andy to express his love for his partner. It was a word that was reserved solely for you, a reminder of the special bond you both shared.

Whenever he spoke to you, there was an underlying hint of protectiveness and adoration in his voice. He used 'sweetheart' not just as a term of endearment but as a way to remind you, just how much he valued you.

You were his sweetheart, and he would go to any lengths to protect, love, and treasure you.

Ari Levinson- 'Bub'

It was a term of endearment that oozed warmth and affection, a reminder of the protective and caring nature Ari.

Whenever he called you 'Bub', there was a hint of tenderness in his voice, a quiet yet fierce protectiveness that spoke volumes about how much he loved you. Whether you were in a quiet moment together or surrounded by others, Ari would use 'Bub' as a way to express his love for you.

You were his 'bub', the one who meant the most to him in the world.

The use of the term 'Bub' was a way for Ari to show his softer side, a side of him that was rarely seen by others. It was a reminder of the love and care he had for his partner, a pet name that was exclusive to your relationship.

He would use 'Bub' not just in private, but also in public, a declaration to the world of the bond you both shared. 'Bub' was a term always filled with affection and tenderness.

You were his 'bub,' the one who had captured his heart completely.

Ransom Drysdale- 'Cupcakes'

It was a term of endearment that was both sweet and a bit cheeky, a reflection of his playful and sometimes immature nature.

Whenever he called you 'Cupcakes,' there was a hint of mischief in his voice, a hint of the boyish charm he couldn't quite shake off. Whether he was trying to tease you or showering you with affection, 'Cupcakes' was a term he would often use, a pet name that was unique to the relationship.

You were his 'Cupcakes' - sweet, tempting, and always a little

Ransom enjoyed using 'Cupcakes' as a nickname for you because it was a reflection of his own sweet tooth and the way you made him feel – sweet, indulgent, and irresistibly delicious.

Whenever he called you 'Cupcakes' with a wicked grin, there was an underlying hint of affection. He would use it not just in private moments, but also when others were around, a public declaration of his affection for you.

And a statement that you belong to him.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉

I thank @royalsweetteaa for coming up with this and putting the idea into my head, and I hope you all enjoy it.

summary - you shouldn't have gone for a swim that day, especially when a giant merman is lurking for a little human to breed and keep.

warning - smut, dubcon, inter-species, slight drowning, slight somno, breeding kink, dirty talk, slightly dark, slight kidnapping.

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.

You arrived at the beach, and headed over to the sand, finding a secluded, comfortable spot to place your things before stripping from your clothes, revealing a small green bikini with tiny white flowers. You overlook the half-man, half-fish in the water, watching you strip and stretch, smirking as you head toward the cold, salty water, closer to the danger that lurks beneath the water. You merge into the water, slowly walking in and deeper. You let out a deep sigh as you dunk your head under and come back up, feeling refreshed.

You feel your body relax, floating on your back as you bask in the sun, enjoying the fresh water crashing softly against your tiny form. Your eyes are closed, and you aren’t aware of your surroundings. A squeak escapes you as you are suddenly pulled under. You are too busy struggling from the lack of air and the sudden fear that you don’t notice your bikini bottoms being yanked off. Once you’ve managed to get your bearings, you quickly swim back to the top, gasping for air as you look around, frightened, fearing a shark has grabbed you. Not knowing there is much worse lurking beyond the waters, as you try and keep yourself afloat, your legs rub together, and you feel you no longer wear your bikini bottoms. Your brows are furrowed as you look around and wonder. Your gaze lands on the piece of clothing floating a few metres ahead of you. Confused and curious, you swim out to grab them, not wanting to leave the water naked from the bottom below. 

When your hand grabs the flimsy material, you shriek as you feel something brush up against your legs. You clutch your bottoms to your chest, freaking as you look around, finally noticing how dark and cold the ocean actually looked and how lonely you really were. No one was on the beach or in the water. You were alone and probably close to death. You don’t see the merman beneath you, staring at your core with a smirk as he feels his cock harden. Ransom licked his lips and swam closer, wrapping his large webbed hands around your legs and yanking you underneath the water. 

The water swallows your scream, and your eyes sting from being open in the salty water. You stare wide-eyed at the giant man-like thing, gasping as you begin to swallow water, freaking out. Ransom huffs, rolling his eyes as he brings you back to the surface, annoyed as you cough and make a scene trying to breathe. As you huff and fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you can, a squeal escapes you, feeling something large and ribbed rubbing against your lips. You take a deep breath as your yanked back under the water, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you are impaled by something. 

Ransom groans, holding you down against him by your hips, thrusting deep and hard inside your tight cunt. “You’re such a whore, going for a swim in slutty clothes and getting fucked by a merman.” He smirks, knowing you can’t understand him, but he loves to watch you struggle against his throbbing member. His long, dark blue, scaly tail swishes behind him as he pounds into you, holding you tightly against him as he glares down at you with his pretty blue eyes. “You like being stretched out by my cock? Barely being able to breathe as I pound into you?” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, limiting your breath even more than before, grunting as he feels you squeezing him.

You feel intense pleasure coming from your lower half and pain coming from your chest as you struggle to breathe. His large hand gripped your hips as the other cut off your airflow. Your vision was becoming black as he kept you both under the water, his hardened member plunging deeper and harder inside you. You gasp as he finally lifts you above water, oxygen entering and filling your lungs as he pounds into you, holding you close to his chiselled body.

You take a deep breath before he pulls you back under, taking you apart. Your eyes screw shut with the pleasure his ribbed cock gives you, reaching the deepest parts of you that no man has ever reached. The member is curved, hitting your g-spot perfectly, your back arched, and you don’t notice him smirking at you or his slitted eyes staring down at your exposed neck. You feel your chest constricting as you run out of air, your head becomes fuzzy, and your cunt clenches around his enormous cock. 

Ransom grins, showing off his sharp teeth. He watches you begin to run out of air, feeling your walls go crazy around his cock as he leans down and bites into your neck. No one can hear your screams before you pass out from the lack of oxygen and the intense pleasure. Ransom grunts, and you clench tightly around him, causing his cock to sink deeper inside of you. His balls tighten as he begins to twitch wildly. His hands grip your body, pulling you tighter against him, releasing his thick cum into you, thrusting until he feels you spasm around him, your juices squirting out and entering the ocean. Ransom grins darkly, swimming to the surface, not waiting for you to wake or catch your breath as he takes you to his cave. He rests you above a rock and strokes your cheek. “You’re mine now, forever, little human. I hope you’re ready to carry my children.” He chuckles, slowly moving into the shadows as he watches you begin to wake. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To Those Who Wait

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, virginity loss, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are tired of being the safe one so you decide to pay for some excitement.

Characters: escort!Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett

Note: this is intended as a one shot but you also know I'm easy to influence.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Tony loves himself. Take care. 💖

“Happy birthday!” Vivica shoves the plastic teeth of the dollar store tiara into your hair. 

You try not to glower as the rest of the table roars with laughter. It’s a happy night. You can’t spoil it just because you hate gimmicks. They mean well, you’re just a downer. Like always. 

You force a smile, “thanks, guys.” 

“Don’t thank us, it’s your night,” Jerrod chirps. “Which means you drink for free!” 

Big whoop. You barely drink. You’ll have one or two for the occasion but you don’t like the way it makes your stomach feel. Ugh, stop being such a tight ass. It’s about you but it isn’t. They went to all this trouble planning the night. For you. Your friends. You can at least be thankful for them. 

Yeah, you have friends but how much do they really know you? For as long as you’ve known them, they should know that this isn’t you. They are the ones that want to go out, that want to drink, that want to wade into the unpredictability of the general public. That’s not you. 

“So, what are we having?” Mila asks. 

“Hm, I don’t know. You know I’m not picky.” It all just tastes like alcohol. 

“Ooh, cucumber gimlet. That sounds nice,” Jerrod says. 

“Oh, it really does,” Vivica agrees. 

“I’m going to try the gummy bear. I’m in the mood for something sweet,” Mila says. 

“Sure, I’ll try that,” you shrug. 

Jerrod flags down a server and puts in the order. As he does, Vivica stirs around under the table. Mila claps as she reveals the gift bag from beneath. 

“My favourite part,” Mila wiggles with excitement. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to--” 

“It’s only one part of our gift,” Jerrod laughs knowingly. 

You give him a wary look. You don’t like his tone. You accept the gift bag and look inside. You can’t tell what it is. You pull out the tissue paper and a small box wiggles inside. Slowly, you slip it out and just as quickly shove it back in. 

“That’s it. You wanna do it just like that,” Jerrod guffaws. 

Your mouth drops open as you look around the table. The bright pink dildo has your cheeks on fire. You can’t believe they’d bring that out in public. 

“What is wrong with you guys?” 

“Oh, come on, everyone can use a good six inches or so,” Jerrod snickers. “That’s our backup gift. Our real gift is somewhere around here.” 

“Huh?” You peek around the bar. “Like a scavenger hunt?” 

“Oh, it’s a hunt,” Vivica juts out her chin. “You set the target and we’ll take him down for you.” 

“What?” You scoff. 

“Come on, honey, you’re thirty. You need to get one last hurrah in,” Jerrod insists. “When it’s my turn, I want three beefy boys. One in each flavour, blond, brunette, and even a redhead.” 

“I’ll have the same,” Mila smirks. 

You’re embarrassed. Uncertain two. You can’t tell if they’re mocking you. Out of the four of you, you’ve always been the boring one. The sober one. All these years, and you were the one saving them from regrettable drunken mistakes and making sure they don’t leave the bar with creeps. It wouldn’t be hard for them to guess, would it? 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be your wingmen. Wingwomen. Wingfriends!” Vivica says. “How about him?” She points as the server lays out the drinks. “He’s cute. Oh, look at his eyes.” 

“Wow,” Mila preens. “A bad boy. That would be adorable.” 

You want to disappear. You want to dissolve into the cushioned bench. Become a part of it. Life as a piece of a furniture must surely be nicer. 

“And his friends, not bad, huh?” 

You’re speechless. It’s a joke. Even if they don’t mean it as one, it is. All these years and you’ve never been the one approached first. You’re the straggler. You get the odd one out and they get stuck with you. Maybe, all this time, your friends had been too self-absorbed or too drunk to notice that. 

You don’t mean to be bitter. You shouldn’t be. It isn’t their fault you’re so lame. That you’ve gone another year without a single thing to be proud of. Without any change. 

“Right, well, they look busy.” 

“Booooo,” Vivica hovers her glass in front of her mouth. “Who wants to break the ice?” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Mila stands. 

“Wait.” You blurt out but she ignores you. 

Some birthday. You get to spend it awkwardly making small talk with another disinterested stranger. You try not to show your discomfort. You grab the skewer with gummy bears impaled on it and stir the vibrant red drink. You sip through the thin straw. It makes your cheek pinch painfully. The sugar will do worse to your stomach than the vodka. 

You keep your head down as Mila’s fluttery giggle wafts over. Vivica giggles as she watches and Jerrod cranes to see. You stare at the table and distance yourself from the moment, detaching from your body as the bar hazes around you. 

“Hey, you guys, come on,” Mila calls over, “lots of room.” 

Her waving hand brings you back to the present. Vivica nudges you with her elbow as Jerrod jumps up. He grabs Mila’s drink and you shuffle along behind them. The group of men sit at one of the tall tables. They rearrange themselves and you stand back as the others claim their seats. 

You climb up on the last, balancing your drink and the gift bag, unable to bring yourself to look at the men on either side of you. You fixate on your drink and taste it again, even as the sickly flavour curdles in your mouth. Your friends introduce themselves and you choke on your name before Mila says it for you. 

The men take their turns. Your eyes dart around evasively. A sweltering heat forms a sheen across your face. The one with the frosted tips and glasses is Jensen, the broader brunette in the button-up and blazer is Nick, the biggest with his bushy beard is Sy, and the last one, beside you, with the buzz cut, is Curtis. 

“Nice crown,” Jensen says. “Happy birthday.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you reach up and take of the tiara. “Thanks.” 

“You from here or visiting?” Jerrod asks the men. 

“We work at Stacks.” 

“Programmers?” Vivica snorts. “You might know my ex. Two of them actually.” 

They laugh. You don’t know what’s funny. This is weird. You hate that invisible barrier between you and them, that makes you feel like you’re on a completely different planet. You don’t get this part of the script. The prologue is as far as you ever get. 

“How old are you?” Curtis’ deep timbre startles you as it rolls beneath the chatter of the others. You shift in your seat and twist the glass around. 

“Thirty,” you pick up the Tiara, the 3 and 0 nearly hidden by the feathers. 

“Ah, the big one,” he comments. 

“Yeah, just another year,” you put the plastic crown down. 

“What do you do?” 

You sniff and tap your fingers on the cup. You lift it and drain the last of the fruity juice and stringent vodka. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“Do what?” He asks. 

“My friends are just being goofy. You don’t have to act like you’re into me.” 

“Well, I’m not much of an actor. Never was into theatre,” he says. “I wouldn’t know, would I? Just trying to get to know you, figure that out.” 

“Really,” you give him a sideways look. “Ah,” you hiss in false disappointment, “hate to break the seal but I gotta go the ladies. Excuse me.” 

“Right,” he accepts dully. “How about I get you a refill, for your birthday?” 

“You don’t have to but if you really want to, I could use a ginger ale. Thanks.” You accept as you climb off the stool. 

You cross the bar and stop just at the threshold of the hallway that reads Girls and Boys above. You glance back. Mila has her charming smile on, Vivica is leaning into Sy, and Jerrod and Nick are watching something on his phone. Why can’t you be normal, like them? 

You flinch as you catch Curtis’ eye. His eyes flick to you as he talks to the server. You quickly spin away. You’ll wait until the third round when they’re too tipsy to care. Then you’ll make your exit. 

🍹

The hotel clerk hands you the key card. You don’t make eye contact. If you do, she might see right through you. You shove it in your pocket before the tremour is noticeable. You hurry away to the elevator and tap the button three times. 

You’re not impatient because your eager. You just want to get this over with. Finally. It only took you thirty years. 

The doors open and you step in, relieved that no one else gets on with you. When you’re shut in, you shudder. You’re disgusted. With this. With yourself. But you’re tired. You just want to pull of the bandage. You want to know what all the fuss is about so you can say you’re not missing out on anything. 

Ever since your birthday, since that pathetic deja vu of going home alone, of your friends stealing the attention on what the claim was your night, you haven’t been able to stop those thought. You’re pathetic. A loser. No wonder it’s hasn’t happened yet. Who would want to touch you? They barely want to talk to you. They wouldn’t if you weren’t a leech on your friends’ ankles. 

The doors open and jar you. You stagger then march out. You slide the card out and check the room number again. Your hands shake so bad it takes you five tries to get the green light. 

Inside the room, the nausea swells in your stomach. Your teeth chatter. You go into the bathroom and put the bag on the counter. You dig out the anti-nausea medicine and read the insert; take one or two. Do not take with alcohol. 

You pop the pink pill in your mouth and swallow. You look at your reflection. You look as scared as you feel. No time to waste, you’ve done enough of that. 

You start with the shower. You wash every crook and crevice. You check your legs and under your arms. You only shaved yesterday night but you don’t need any pricklies. And your pelvis. You did a decent enough job trimming that down. 

You get out and moisturise. You don’t want to smell. For once in your life, you don’t want to feel repugnant. You’re not some romantic. You thought of buying lingerie but that only seemed sadder. So you put on a pair of grey jersey pajamas, just a tank top and shorts. 

You don’t want to look like this is a big deal. That you tried too hard. You do your hair and a little bit of makeup. Too much would just get messy anyway. Deodorant, perfume, and mouthwash. You’re as fresh as can be. 

And anxious! 

You take out the box of condoms. You don’t think the pills are working. You want to vomit, even though you haven’t eaten. You grab your phone and check the messages. Shoot, it’s a lot later than you thought. 

‘Cashapp?’ 

Fuck, you forgot. You quickly flip over to your menu and sign in. You send the money and your chest drops. This is it. That’s a hefty wad of cash. You hope it’s worth it. 

You reply to the text; ‘sent’ then the room number. There. Done deal. It’s going to happen. Then you can say, yeah, did it, no big deal. 

You go into the suite and put your phone on the night table. You sit on the bed for a whole second before you bounce off. No, you can’t stay there. No, no, no. You pace and wring your hands as you wait. 

The knock trips you up. You turn to stare at the door and like a horror movie, your eyes widen and your ears ring. He’s here. 

You near the door and stop to look through the key hole. There’s a trickle of relief. He looks like the pictures her sent. That’s good. 

You open the door a crack and look out. He looks annoyed as he checks his watch then tugs on the lapels of his jacket. It looks like a designer; the lining has little emblems on it. He says your name, “that’s you, right?” 

“Hugh? Right?” You blink and he nods as he cheek ticks, “er, come in.” 

You pull back the door and press yourself to the wall. He struts in and clicks his tongue in his cheek. He examines the room as he shrugs out of his jacket and slings it over the small bench against the wall. You close the door and he whistles. You face him as he tilts his head, looking you up and down. 

“Smells good in here,” he grins and smooths his tidy hair. 

Despite who and what he is, he’s handsome. Well, that probably helps. It’s why you paid half your savings for one night. You sway slightly then swallow down the despair. You’re doing it. You’re really going to do it. 

A fucking prostitute. That’s as good as you can do. 

“How about some music,” he approaches the speaker under the television, “think these things have bluetooth now.” 

“Sure,” you croak, watching him as you cross your arms. It’s not too late. No, you don’t think you’ll get a refund now. 

He takes out his phone and swipes around. He holds a button on the sound bar and it chimes. Soft R&B drawls from the speaker. You bite your thumb as you stare at him. 

“So...” he looks at you. 

You nod and clear your throat. You don’t know what to do. You don’t think the whole foreplay thing is going to happen. 

He drags his hands down his cream sweater. He doesn’t really dress like an escort. Or maybe you just put too much trust in movies. He lifts the hem as you stay as you are. Your feet are glued to the floor. 

He strips off the sweater and reveals a muscled torso and a thicket of dark hair across his chest. You don’t expect it as he sports a clean shave on his jaw. You clamp down on your arms as you keep them folded across your chest. 

“Like what you see?” He winks and bites his lips. 

He’s good. You almost believe him. If you weren’t missing a chunk from your bank account, you might. 

“Come on, baby, why don’t you get some wine going,” he purrs. 

A distraction. Thank god. You go to the bar fridge and take out one of the mini bottles of white wine. You peel off the foil over the cap but can’t break the seal. You struggle, trying to hide your effort, but sense him coming close. 

“I just need to find some glass,” you say. 

He chuckles and takes the bottle. His blue eyes devour you as he cracks the seal and flicks the cap away. He drinks directly from the bottle and smirks. 

“No need. Go on,” he offers it up. 

Your lips twitch and you take the bottle. You drink, nearly gagging. You swallow and hand it back. He swigs as he watches you. 

He is so good looking. You wonder how he even got into this. He’s built like a god. No, a gladiator. You’re such a frigging dweeb. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta be uptight,” he gives the wine back to you, “relax, enjoy the wine. You paid for the night. No hurry.” 

You nod and drink again. It goes down easier. You return the bottle to him and he strides to the bed. He sits and pats the other side of the mattress.  

“Come here, sweetheart.” 

You quiver and lock your arms straight. You are conscious of every single part of you as you near him. You sit stiffly and stare ahead. The music drones as he gulps again. He bends forward to set the empty bottle on the floor. 

You wince as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. He traces the strap of your tank top and pulls you against him. You shiver as he brushes up your neck. 

“This your first time?” 

You twitch then make yourself nod. You wait for him to laugh. He doesn’t. 

“Well, let’s go slow, then.” 

“No,” you erupt. “I mean--” you grip your knees and steady yourself. “I want to just do it. Get it over with.” You grit your teeth and force a breath out your nose. “There’s condoms in the bathroom.” 

Now he laughs. “Huh, you know what you want.” 

You don’t reply. You can’t. That was the last of your courage or whatever you want to call it. 

He goes into the bathroom and you list as he opens the box. He emerges and examines the square wrapper. It looks even smaller in his large hand. He rests his other on the top of his pants. 

“How do you want it?” He asks. 

You stare at him. How do you want it? You don’t know. You raise your brows helplessly. 

“Wanna get naked?” He suggests. 

You look at the bed. You blink long and hard. Your head feels fuzzy. Must be the wine. 

“Right,” he sighs and undoes his zipper. You peek up long enough to see the top of his boxers. You back away and crawl up the bed. 

You face away from him as you strip off your shirt, then your shorts. You jitter as you lay down flat like a plank. You stare at the ceiling as the wrapper crinkles. He groans as he comes closer to the bed. 

“I like these ones,” he puts a knee on the bed. 

Your breath is like thunder. You feel like your suffocating. He touches your leg and you squeak. 

“Gonna have to open up, baby,” he pets your knee. 

You let him drag your legs apart. You can’t do it yourself. You wipe your face with a shaky hand. 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” 

Your eyes snap to him as something clicks. He holds a small bottle with a black label. He squirts the clear oil onto his fingers then reaches between your legs. You return your gaze to the ceiling before he makes contact. 

He rubs the cool lube between your folds. Your thighs quake as he glides up and down. Over and over until the moisture is more than just from the bottle. 

He tickles your entrance and you tense. He rasps as he circles around, “relax.” He pokes a finger into you and you clench. He wiggles it and hushes you as you whimper. “Look, you’re not gonna like it if you don’t chill.” 

He sinks his finger further in then pulls it out again. You blow your breath out and suck it back in as he dips inside once more. You clasp the duvet beneath you as he fingers you rhythmically. Your pussy trembles around him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he pushes a second finger into you. “You wanna be ready, huh? I mean... it’s your first time, you gotta be ready.” 

The comment is like a slap across the face. Still, you can’t focus on his words. Your eyes feel fuzzy and your body is alight with a spectrum of tingles. 

He rocks his hand and you lift your pelvis slightly. He presses his thumb against your clit and you gasp. The mix of pressure and motion is intense. You’re not completely clueless. That toy your friends gave you isn’t the only one you have, you just never used one inside of you. 

You push your head down into the pillows and moan. He hums in approval and brushes his other hand up your stomach. He rolls his thumb around your nipple. 

“Yeah, like that, relax,” he pushes deeper and you whine, little pouts coming as you dig your heels into the mattress. “Oh, my god, baby, you’re going to cum, aren’t you?” 

You squeal as you spasm. It’s not your first orgasm but it’s the best one you’ve ever had. It’s wild how different it is with someone, anyone, else. You shake as your voice unfurl and your cunt squelches around his fingers. He cooes at you as he eases you through your climax. 

“Was that so bad?” He wiggles his fingers before he pulls them free. “Huh? Think you liked that.” He gets up on his knees and moves between your legs. He strokes his dick, swollen inside the rubber sheath. “Think you’ll like this a whole lot better.” 

You lift your head dozily and stare at him. He’s big. Long and thick. That dildo was probably smaller than him and you left it in the package. 

He moves closer and you let out a surprised chitter. He caresses your thigh and hushes you as he grips your hip. He pumps himself with his other hand and angles his tip along your lips. 

“You said you wanted to get it done,” he pushes his blunt tip along your entrance. “Don’t hold your breath, baby.” 

He pushes into you and you cry put. Oh. That’s not good. The blinding pain ripples through you. This is different too. Not like his fingers. He’s... 

“Too big,” you rasp. “Please-- ah, ah, ah.” 

“Come on, baby, you can take it,” he growls as he inches into you. “Once it’s in, it’ll feel better.” He impales you down to his base and snarls as he leans his head back. He rolls his shoulders and shudders. “Fuck, it’s been a while since I had a virgin cunt.” 

Flames of humiliation lick at you. This man who fucks for a living is taking your virginity like it’s a prize. Another deposit in the bank. Why did you do this? 

“Hugh,” you eke out his name and reach down, pressing your fingertips to his stomach. “I don’t want--” 

He thrusts and you shriek. Your lips form and O as your head falls back down. You whimper as your body shakes uncontrollably. Your fingers furl into fists and your toes curl. 

“Baby, you said you wanted this. You paid for it,” he grabs your wrists and moves your hands above your head, locking them there as he holds himself above you. “Ah, fuck.” He rams into you again and your tears spill over. “Ah, ah, ah,” he continues to thrust, “you are fucking tight. Ah.” 

He closes his eyes as his nostrils flair and he groans, “the way you’re squeezing me--” 

“Please,” you snivel and he snaps his pelvis into yours. You push your legs wider, trying to ease the pressure. “Ow. You’re hurt—ing me.” 

“Argh, yes, oh,” he ruts into you harder and harder. 

The springs of the bed bounce you against him as his pace turns furious. He puffs like an animal as his eyes blare down at you. You writhe and sob, your face wet with horror and humiliation. Your flesh claps together slickly as he raises himself only to drop down with all his weight. Again and again and again. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Baby, you hear that. Your first time and you got about to blow,” he sneers. “Tell me you want me to cum.” 

You gurgle helplessly and he slams into you, “tell me.” 

“Please--” You squeal. “Please just cum. Just...” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grunts as he batters you. 

“Please cum--” 

He bucks wildly and lets out a bellowing roar. He pushes his head up and drones through his climax as he fucks you into the bed. You close your eyes and turn your head away. He slows as your heart pounds in your temples and your skin scalds. What did you do? 

He lets go of your wrists and pulls out of you all at once. He leaves you splayed on the bed. His footfalls slap away to the bathroom and the faucet runs. You don’t dare move, hoping that if you don’t, this will all just turn out to be a nightmare. 

🛏️

You touch your wrist and rip your hand away as if you’ve been burned. The bruises are tender. All of you is, but especially... that part of you. 

You have a pillow under you as you sit on your couch. You can barely put your weight on your pelvis. Each time a pang strikes, you remember that horrible mistake. Now you can really say that it isn’t all it’s made out to be. It’s not worth it. 

You lean on the armrest and stare at the television. You don’t see the faces or hear the words. Like the rest of the world, it’s now a fog. Like that night. The box for the pills said not to mix with alcohol. 

You lean your head in your hand. You don’t want to think about it. That’s worse than what happened. The memory. That never ends. 

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it. Vivica called several times. Jerrod once, and all Mila sent was some Tiktok you don’t care about. 

The table continues to vibrate. It agitates you. You get up and stumble. You cup between your legs. You wear only a sleep shirt. You don’t want anything to chafe. You grab your phone and check the ID. Who the heck? 

You answer, “hello?” 

“Hi, is this...” the timbre asks. Do you know them. 

“Uh, yeah, is this the pharmacy?” 

There’s a silence, “uh, no, it’s Curtis.” 

“Curtis,” you repeat. 

“From the bar?” He says uncertainly. 

You already know that. You just don’t believe it. You frown. 

“How did you get my number?” 

“Your friend. Viv. Sorry, I... I guess I shoulda asked you but you left so early.” 

“Why?” You ask then cringe at your own stupidity. 

“Why... because... I want to ask you out. I’m not good at beating around the bush, you know, but you don’t really give a guy a chance.” 

“Asking me out?” 

“Trying.” 

You’re quiet again. It’s like sledge hammer shattering your reality. A couple days ago, you’d be giddy. Not it’s ironic. After what you did. Another laugh in the face. 

“So, did I... just embarrass myself here or...” he huffs. You feel bad. 

You never gave him a chance. You never gave yourself a chance. And now you spoiled it all. You can’t bring yourself to take out your self-hatred on him again. You can humour him for one date. Then you can say, at least, that you’ve done that too. 

“Um, alright,” you agree, wishing it was happier, wishing that it could be different. You’ll have to figure out how to let him down easy. Although Mila says ghosting is even easier. “Sure.” 

“Sure,” he echoes you. “Don’t sound so excited.” 

“Ha, sorry,” you turn and rub your neck. “Yes. Let me know what works for you.” 

“I can do that,” he sounds relieved. “I’ll text you in a minute.” 

“Alright,” you hold back a scoff. “Thanks for calling, Curtis.” 

“No, thank you.” 

He hangs up and you turn the phone to silent. Your eyes sting as you lay it face down on the table and walk away. Things could have been so much different if you weren’t so damn stupid. He’ll figure that out and maybe you won’t have to be the one to break it off. 

[krirebr]

We're All Monsters AU Masterlist

The Vampire side of my and @paperweight91 's giant supernatural AU. Check out her werewolf side here!

See each story for warnings.

Psycho Killer - Ransom Drysdale x Little Rabbit

A drunken dare and chance encounter jump-starts a whole new life.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Steve Rogers x Sunshine

Your vacation comes to an end when a powerful and mysterious man gets his first taste.

Coming Soon

Heads Will Roll - Curtis Everett x Angel x Jake Jensen

Training to be a slayer becomes even more difficult when you must hit the road with two hunters for your own safety.

Killing Moon - James Mace x Sneak

When you and your boyfriend steal something without fully realizing who you are stealing from, you're sent on a cross-country adventure by an ally you're pretty sure you shouldn't trust.

Dance Hall Days - Steve Rogers x Ransom Drysdale

Ransom meets a man in a bar who seems like he'll be fun for a night or two... A prequel series to I Can't Sleep Cause My Bed's On Fire

Head Over Heels

All Cole wants is someone to share eternity with. He won't stop looking until he finds them.

[carnalactivities]

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : a lot :P

[ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬. ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : innocent y/n x priest Ransom Drysdale

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Ransom helps a young choir girl fulfill God's will.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Non/dubcon, religious themes, age gap, fingering, vaginal sex, virginity loss, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, corruption kink, manipulation, explicit language, slight dd/lg (mostly just dd), degrading, smut, 18+.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Do not copy, translate, or repost my work as your own. this book does contain dark themes. please do not read if any of these topics trigger you. i have had this plot for awhile and literally froze when i realized Ransom embodied this role. i took my time and care for this work. i know tis’ is long but please bare with me. since it is my first posted work, i wanted to make it count. all love and light ~ always, always, always ~ A

"He hath come to the bosom of His beloved.

Smiling on him, He beareth him to highest heav'n."

The youths choir singing echoed throughout the church. Not a corner free from their angelic tones. Though the choir ranged from ages, the difference of genders were noted by the boys standing tall in the back and the girls in the front. All of their faces were recognizable to him now, since he was present for most of their rehearsals before every Sunday, but your face had always stood out to him from the beginning. Even now you outshined the rest of your peers- by both voice and presence.

But even still Ransom watched you from the corner of the chapel, hidden in the shadows. Yes, he did appear every now and then during their rehearsals for appraisal or even just the view, which was always you. But when he watched you perform, he didn’t want to constantly be observing the other pupils as well. He wanted only to watch you and this dark archway was perfect for that.

Most nights he lay in his bed, trying to push out the thoughts of everything his life lacked now. Everything he had before, he quickly realized how much he had taken for granted during his first night in that dim and barely furnished apartment. To consider it a home would be charity in itself, but he couldn’t afford much more. He had lost everything when he came here a few months ago.

He came here on the run, wanted for murder though he wasn't responsible for it. It was an accident. A mistake.

Sometimes his brain got so clouded and he got aggressive. He always seemed to lose himself in those moments but he never mean't for Jonie to fall like she had. He remembered standing over her body, realizing what he had done. There was no mistaking the empty look in her eyes.

So he ran.

There was no time for alibis, he had a mile long trail of proof behind him, so he outsmarted them. His family all knew his patterns and lifestyle, and it didn’t make it any easier that they all probably would’ve gladly sent him behind bars. So he went to the last place any of them would’ve suspected: to church.

Tricking the deacons was a lot easier than he had thought. He figured they would've wanted some sort of resume, but they were so desperate for a new father that they were putting a robe on him that day.

Becoming a preacher was more work than he had signed up for though. He had to prepare a weekly sermon, bless the sick, baptize sinful, visit the poor, help the elderly- the list seemed to be never ending. Not even to mention he was paid a set salary, a percentage already taken out to help provide not only for the church but also for the poor and elderly. And on top of all the things he had to add to his life, there was about ten fold of things he had to remove : sex, language, drugs, alcohol....sex.

It was humiliating that a man of his stature had resorted to his right hand. He hadn’t used his own hand to finish since he was 16. Once he lost his virginity, and experienced real pleasure? There was no need to go back to such desperate measures. But here in this small town, there was no slew of women ready at his feet and word seemed to travel fast. He learned that when he had walked into the chapel and the whole congregation was waiting for him with open arms once they heard of their new pastor. He couldn’t risk his position now because of a few(most) horny nights.

But when he met the choir that day as well and your face eagerly peered up at him? It was a shimmer of light in his very dark tunnel.

He let his thoughts wander to you some nights and it helped him cope. How your voice rang higher than the rest of the choir. How your face scrunched in concentration when you sang. How sometimes when you would sing a solo or a particular high note your eyes would open and your cheeks would flush with embarrassment as if you weren’t stealing the breath out of everyone watching. How Ransom was sure you made the exact same face when you came as he fisted his cock at night.

Because though Random didn’t know your name, he had watched you long enough to actually know you.

You didn’t like the spotlight. You would much rather be apart or even behind the crowd rather than in the center-but never a follower either.

You were quiet, observant. When the director gave criticism you took it eagerly, always seeking to please. To improve.

You were never late, either. Never missed a practice session. You never complained neither. Not when rehearsals ran long or if the director was particularly impatient some days.

And all of these qualities came wrapped up in a cute lil’ innocent body. Because though Ransom noted these things about you, and saw the potential for his own personal use, it was initially your body that he had noted.

Your presence so delicate and naive. When his eyes had met yours for the first time, your smile had that perfect pleasing tilt. But your eyes had that glint in them. Knowing. Teasing. Practically speaking to him.

Take me.

Fuck me.

Break me.

And he wanted to. Right then and there. Even in front of your parents. But he just shook your hand and introduced himself. And because he was so occupied with how your hand felt in his, he had completely missed your name.

He regretted it that was for sure. He racked and racked his brain. Even tried to picture names just as perfect as you, but none fit. For months he wanted to rectify that. He needed a name for his little girl but he had yet to find it. But today he planned to change that.

Just your name, that was all he needed. And as Random stepped out of his alcove and headed past the pews towards the foyer door casually, he knew today was going to be that day.

“A little off key, altos but! I am highly impressed with how all of you have gracefully learned this song. I know when ya’ll are prepared, the congregation will love this hymn!” The choir directors voice called behind Ransom as he reached the last pew. He heard the movement of feet and knew the choir was already descending off of the stage towards where their belongings lay strewn in the front pews.

“Alright, great work today you guys! Remember to rehearse and memorize this Sunday’s hymns at least once this weekend. I will see you all Sunday at 9:00!” As the director finished speaking to his students, Ransom turned and tucked his hands into his pockets in a casual stance next to the opening of the foyer. The church opened before him and he watched as all the choir readied themselves to leave for the evening.

The students were quick to pull off their robes and stuff them in their bags that they brought, all chattering with each other. Some were already heading towards the entrance of the building, either with each other or alone but all still moving with quick steps. As they neared Ransom and passed him, a forced smile took over his lips and he gave words of encouragement and thanks to the choir as they passed him. Some responded, some simply just smiled in response to him but Random couldn’t have cared less.

His gaze kept returning to you, still at the front of the pews, carefully hanging your robe on a hanger and placing it in a bag you had brought with you. You weren’t in a hurry like the rest of the choir. Well not enough to crumple your robe in the process. Ransom loved that. You were patient. Sure minded. Never mind that you were the last one left, no, you would take your time.

Ransom watched as two kids, giggling and running down the center aisle, approached him. One chasing the other but as they headed straight for Ransom and the exit he heard your voice call out softly.

“Please don’t run in the building guys!” It was soft, silky, heaven to his ears. Sounding just like when you sing, and Ransom had to stop himself from letting a possessive growl escape his throat. He wanted to hear your words directed at him and even though he was craving your attention more than ever, he couldn’t help but note your words.

You had wanted those kids to listen to you, but you didn’t command them. You had barely even lifted your voice, you weren’t used to speaking above others. Ransom took it for what he knew it to be: you didn’t want to be the one to order others, you needed to be ordered yourself. Mentally Ransom checked off another box that you filled and he couldn’t help but think you were made for him.

You approached Ransom down the aisle and his hands curled into fists in his pockets as he took in your outfit.

You were wearing a form fitted top: a similar one he would wear when he worked out except he always opted for black whereas you wore white. And you paired it with a matching white tennis skirt. The skirt only reached down mid thigh and all that leg was going to be his downfall. Ransom noted your tennis shoes and socks that were also white and if he believed in angels- this was as close as he was ever going to get to one.

“I apologize for the kids running.” You smiled up at him, your eyebrows down in apology and your lips only slightly tilted up.

“Don’t be.” Ransom quickly responded. He forgot about his thoughts just heartbeats before and focused his attention solely on you for right now. “It’s not like it is your fault, right? Plus, I like to think of our church as a home. Though reverence is due, I enjoy to see when our members are relaxed as well.” His imsuchaforgivingandcomfortingmanbecauseimaholypriest attitude had always come naturally to Ransom since it was everything he was not.

“I love that.” Your eyes lit up as you clutched your robe to your chest as it rested over your arm. Though quickly your eyes lost the light in them as you seemed to remember something. Your smile slowly fell as well and your attention turned to your shoes below you.

Ransoms eyebrows scrunched and he couldn’t help but reach for you. His hand caught the bottom of your chin and he eased your face back up to meet his eyes again. Though portraying the perfect appearance of worry, Ransoms was fighting to urge to lift his thumb higher and catch your bottom lip. Maybe even to just cup your face. Anything, anything, to have more contact with you.

“What is it?” He asked you softly.

“I…” Your voice was so soft and hesitant. “I need to speak with you.”

Ransoms eyebrows lifted in surprise, that was certainly not what he figured you would say.

“Well i’m right here. You’re welcome to say whatever you need to.” Princess.

You turned your head, Ransoms hand falling from your chin, your eye line aimed at the choir director still at the pulpit.

“I was hoping it could be a private conversation.” You whispered and Ransom had to still his features as to not give off too much of what was running through his head from your words.

You wanted to get Ransom alone.

Ransom wasn’t so much delusional, he recognized when even his thoughts could take things too far. But here you were, wanting to be alone with him. You must’ve taken notice to him just as much as he had been watching and dreaming of you.

With a casual ease, Ransom smiled at you comfortably and nodded. “My office is just in the back. We’re welcome to speak there and no one will overhear.”

You nodded shyly in response. Your gaze averting his as you took your bottom lip in your mouth nervously.

You were nervous.

So, you had always had a craving for him just as he had wanted you. This must’ve been what a blessing was that he had always heard the members speaking on.

He let his hand fall to your lower back as he headed towards the hall that led to his office in the back. Gently he pushed you to follow beside him and he noted how you lowered your head and your steps blindly followed his.

Of course a pretty thing like you would be nervous, but you almost seemed ashamed. Ransom could handle nerves but ashamed? No. You should be honored. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. But then again, Ransom never really went for the plastic surgery and egotistical women. He always preferred the shy and inexperienced type. He always found more pleasure in taking firsts. Even after the night was finished Ransom always walked away knowing that the women he was with never would experience better than him and that was a bigger turn on for him than their pleading for more. Soon you would know. You would even plead. He would make sure of it.

As they passed the pews, Ransom caught sight of the choir director moving the lectern back into place in the center of the pulpit.

“We’re going to a chat in my office, Roy. Go ahead and head out when you’re done. I’ll lock up on our way out.” Ransom spoke to the man. He smiled in agreement in reply. “Of course, Father. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Ransom nodded and then headed into the hallway, just passing his spot from moments before.

In silence Ransom led you down the hallway. He had to calm himself every few breaths, restraining from the eagerness that overtook him. Ransom never got eager, especially not in moments where, though unspoken, both parties knew what was about to commence. But months of abstinence had made him impatient. He hadn’t let himself indulge in any past actions, but you never pass up a free dinner. Even Ransom knew that.

Opening the door for you he led you inside. “Go ahead and take a seat.” He cooly told you as he shut the door and made his way around the desk that your chair faced.

Ransom spent many days and nights in this office. He figured it better than his soulless apartment. Though full book shelves lined the wall and a computer sat at his desk 90 degree angled desk, he had barely touched any of the objects. Including the bible sitting idle on the desk corner. The only thing that showed his presence in this room was his coat hung in the corner and the name plate given to him a few weeks after accepting the job. Besides that, he got all of his sermons online and used his common sense for his role. His only use for this room was the occasional bible study or just simple mental escape. It wasn’t much, but his time alone helped.

As Ransom sat in his own office chair, he grinned at you. He was ready to quit the bullshitting and feel every inch of you and now that you both were alone, his dick was slowly starting to harden at the thought itself. God, he was desperate for you.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” The endearment rolled off his tongue before he realized it. For comfort or seduction- whatever you wanted to take it as- he didn’t care. Now that you two were alone, he wasn’t putting on a front anymore.

Your pretty little eyes roamed the room. Never going high enough to meet his own but quickly moving, just like whatever thoughts were spinning in the small head of yours. Ransom calmly licked his lips and couldn’t stop himself from slightly leaning forward and resting his clasped hands on his desk. Whatever words left your mouth next, he was gonna love.

“I…” A flush rose on your cheeks and you stopped yourself for a moment, nervously chewing your bottom lip. “I-I have a confession to make.”

Oh, you couldn’t even look at him as you said that. Your eyes had scrunched just to get those few words out.

“So, confess.” It came out more impatiently than he intended but he couldn’t help it. He was already imagining what your carnal sin was. That you had lusted after him. That at night you couldn’t help but imagine him there with you, feeding into all your desires and more. Probably fucking yourself dry with your fingers, just trying to curve the craving of his cock in you. Maybe even riding a pillow, desperate for friction on your small bud.

“I let jealousy consume me…”

That was definitely not what he was expecting.

His reaction was nearly physical. It felt like a slap in the face and pressed pause on all of his fantasies of you.

You came to him because you got a little envious of someone? That was your big confession. No, that wouldn’t do. All your doe eyes and coy smiles and now you finally sat in front of him, alone, all because you got fucking jealous. What?

He couldn’t mask the confusion on his face as he repeated your statement. “You got..jealous?”

“Yes, well. I mean…I did but it wasn’t only that.” You were talking so quietly now. Your hands nervously fidgeting with each other as you stammered out your words. Your eyes cast downward in shame.

“I let it affect me and my relationship with others. One day I came home and was short and said angry words to my mom. I ditched my friends in the mall last week because they practically called me crazy and just overa-“

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Ransom chuckled and shook his head, holding his hand up to pause you. “I guess i’m just confused because…well, what does a pretty thing like you have to be jealous about?” He tried to mask his irritation with a charming smile but it was half hearted and clearly forced.

Ignoring his compliment you cocked your head and went back to staring at your hands as you continued on with your explanation.

“There’s this boy that i’ve liked forever,”

“A boy?” His voice proceeded to get more agitated as he cut you off again. Ransom brought you to his office because he thought he was going to be able to bend you over his desk. Now you were plowing through his plans because you had a schoolgirl crush on some post-puberty prick?

“Yes, his name is Timothy. You probably,”

“Look at me when you’re speaking.” The command came out fast and the shortness of it even shocked Ransom. He was losing his composure much quicker than he realized.

He could’ve sworn he heard you squeak in surprise but immediately your eyes were on his and you didn’t combat his harsh tone. Clearing your throat you continued, your eyes never leaving Ransoms again.

“Timothy is on the choir as well. He sings tenor. We both grew up here together. Even playing tennis together, sometimes practicing with each other in our free time. For years i’ve had a crush on him and didn’t help that our families were close as well, so I see him pretty regularly. But then a few Sundays ago, he brought another girl to church with him. I guess they met somewhere on campus. N’ ever since then, Timothy has just been solely focused on her. And I just…I can’t help but be jealous of her. She is where I have wanted to be for years and I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Ransom tried to make sense of your strewn together thoughts. So what if your little boy crush found his own snatch? You were the prettiest little package just waiting to be opened. Ransom had never been selfless, he was aware, but he knew he couldn’t let you leave this room until you knew that you were deserving of so much more than that bare chested twig.

Licking his lips subconsciously, Ransom knew just how to convince you of it.

“Baby, you got nothing to be jealous of.” He enunciated his words with a casual cock of his head. Your cheeks heated and he grinned at your helpless reaction.

“She’s blonde and tall. She looks like a model!”

“Honey, I guarantee, whatever she’s offering him- you can offer better.”

“Well, no. It’s not like that for me. If Timothy likes her then I want him to be happy. I don’t think I can do anything better- I don’t want to.” Your words came out in a plea of defense and he just about groaned at your innocence. You were so fast to defend others, you would run yourself into a hole. You were so perfect, so clean- wanting nothing more than to do right by others. He needed to show you just how much you were worth.

“But you already have.” Ransoms statement clearly caught you off guard as you blanched back an inch. Confusion marred your face and Ransom took advantage of this moment to stand slowly, his eyes never leaving the prize in front of him.

“Here you are whining about this boy that broke your heart, but honey you have a man right in front of you.”

Your mouth formed into a perfect o and Ransom immediately wanted to see it filled. With trained poise though, he eased slowly around the desk and neared you.

“I-I don’t understand what you’re saying, father.” Your eyes still didn’t leave his own as he approached you and he mentally reminded himself to praise you for that later.

“Baby, you offer so much more than you realize. He may not have noticed that, but I have. I’ve watched you for a while now and I know just how precious you are. A real man would never waste an opportunity with you. Lemme’ show you, honey.” He let his hand trace the side of your face as he spoke. Ransoms pointer finger catching a lock of your hair between his thumb and he let it ride between his fingers as they snaked downwards before he finally cupped your cheek.

“I…” You were speechless at his confession and finally your eyes left Ransoms. “Father, I”

A groan left his mouth so softly but he knew you heard it from your frozen features.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just love when you call me that.” He rubbed coaxing circles into your cheek to ease his action, but having you wide eyed and below him because of the white collar he wore was turning him on more than he usually got. “Continue, honey. I wanna hear what you have to say.”

You peered up at Ransom in stunned silence and he watched as you nervously swallowed.

“I don’t think this is appropriate, Father.”

You said it so quietly but there was no sureness in your statement and Ransom knew he had you.

“Isn’t it? God brought you to me, baby. He knew what I needed and here you are.”

“Well, maybe but..but we shouldn’t let ourselves take our own preferences to what is before us. It could lead us to sin.” He tsk’ed at your response.

“You let me say what is sin or not. I’m the priest, remember?” You nodded in response and Ransoms smile was approving.

“I know how i’ve felt about you from the moment we met. Now, I know we’ve spent little time together but I know you’ve felt it too, princess. N’ I can bet there’s some proof of it coated on your panties, huh?”

Your response was a shake of your head. You tried to move your head out of Ransoms clutch but he was quick to wrap his hand in your hair at the bass of your neck, keeping you still.

“Lust shouldn’t cloud us.” You whimpered out to him.

“It’s not lust if we were destined for each other. I know this was in Gods plan to bring you to me.”

“Satan can tempt you-.” Ransom didn’t like your response and jerked your head forward.

“Nothing is tempting me. There’s temptation and there’s knowing. I know what I can do for you. I know that you can please me. Don’t you wanna please your father, baby?” Ransom was growing impatient with your protests. He needed you weeks ago and he wasn’t about to let this perfect moment slip from his grasp.

“We’re not husband and wife. We can’t.” You were whispering now. Your silent pleas laced your words but Ransom wasn’t going to let you go and resort to another night with his hand.

“God sent us to each other. He knew I needed you and He knew you needed a real man like me. So what does it matter if we wait until after a piece of parchment is signed. It’s all apart of the plan, honey.”

You nervously chewed on your lip in silence. Your brows were down in worry but he saw his words work its way into understanding behind your eyes.

“But we will be married then?” The question was hesitant. Your final resort and protest to your priest. Ransom just smiled in response, his grip on your hair turning gentler.

“Lord willing.” He stated.

Two, three, maybe four heartbeats passed before your chin dipped. It was barely a nod, but Ransom took it.

“Stand.” He demanded and you immediately listened. Fear or obedience, Ransom didn’t care what fueled your actions-just that you had obeyed.

Without releasing you, he swept the objects off his desk in one quick motion with his free arm. You gasped in shock but he didn’t care. His hands grabbed your waste and he planted you firmly on his desk in front of him.

You were right where he wanted you now. His for the taking, the breaking, and there were no more protests from your pretty full lips as you spread your legs so his hips could hit between them.

“Over here speaking about temptations, when you wore this teasing- skimpy outfit.” Pure want laced Ransoms voice as his hands traveled down your thighs. They met the edge of your skirt and he couldn’t help but slip them underneath, running his hands higher up your bare thigh.

“I-I had tennis practice before rehearsal. It ran longer than usual. I didn’t have time to-.”

“Shut up.” Ransom didn’t want to hear any more of your ramblings. He only wanted you.

In a rush of excitement, with less restraint than he usually practiced, he leaned forward and pushed his mouth onto yours. The kiss was hungry and demanding as your mouths slid together. You fought to keep up but it was impossible with Ransoms hunger.

His cock was already straining against the front of his slacks and his desperation got the better of him as he gripped the top of your thighs aggressively. You let out a whimper in protest to the pain and Ransom seized that moment to slip his tongue into your open mouth.

You tasted of peaches and mint and damn it, Ransom couldn’t remember when he had tasted of anything better. His tongue moved expertly around yours, catching a fast rhythm but yours was wild and inexperienced. Had you even been kissed before? Maybe, but properly like this, probably not. Being a girls first and knowing they wouldn’t have better was a huge turn on for Ransom, but even with a kiss? Ransom wasn’t sure he would be able to handle himself slowly when it came time for him to fully take your innocence.

The thought alone forced a growl up his throat. His hand left your thigh simultaneously, cupping your chin aggressively. Pulling your suction on each other apart, he watched as your eyes slowly fluttered open.

Your pupils were blown, lips swollen from barely being kissed, and your cheek was flushed beyond measure. You were the perfect picture of innocence and Ransom needed to contain himself. He was so fucking turned on that his mind kept skipping 3 steps ahead and there was so much pre-cum coating the front of his boxers from you. But that wouldn’t do. No, he needed to make sure you fit him and if Ransoms anticipation kept growing he would actually end up breaking you, but he was tired of kissing you now. He just wanted to feel how tight he knew you were.

“Lay down.” He commanded you in a husky impatient voice.

Immediately your back was pressed against the table and your head was angled so that your eyes were still on him. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You were perfect.

Ransom let his hand release the hold on your face and slowly draw down your neck and fall in the middle of your chest. In reaction you gasped, your back arching off the desk slightly. But the movement had brushed your cunt with the front of Ransoms slacks and he knew you both had felt it when your eyes widened.

“My baby’s so eager, she’s rubbing herself on my clothed cock.” Ransoms body was out of his control now as his hand gripped your thigh and his hips rolled to firmly rub your clothed crotches together. Your whimper and response at his phrasing could’ve been enough to make him bust in his pants. He had just jerked off last night-what was wrong with him?

Letting Ransoms hips roll and press into you, he quickly made work of pulling your shirt off of you. Once he caught sight of how you looked laying in front of him without your shirt- he was on autopilot. In a frenzy your bra was next, Ransom only stopping for a moment to give one good squeeze to your tits and huskily saying:

“Baby, you fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand.”

Before he was moving to the rest of you. Shoes, socks, and finally he was ripping your skirt down your legs before he stilled. Taking in the sight of you lying on his own desk, he was rendered speechless. This was perfection in itself, like his own fantasy coming alive- here. Naked except for your underwear. Your face already looked so fucked out and he had barely touched you!

You didn’t like his stillness and immovable gaze as Ransom watched you. You whimpered at him and your hips raised slightly as you were desperate to get back the contact you lost from him.

“Father..please. I need you, back.” You whimpered at him and Ransom groaned in response. He knew he would eventually have you pleading for him, but you were still innocent and shy. He didn’t think you would’ve used your words that quickly.

In answer Ransom let his hand cup your calf and slowly draw up your leg. You gasped in response. Your hands clutched the edge of the desk and your head fell backwards as the response of skin contact with you.

As Ransoms hand got higher and closer to the last clothed piece of you, you were impatiently writhing on the desk. A whimpering mess as his hand got nearer to your mound.

As Ransoms hand got just centimeters away, he pulled back and clutched your thigh instead. You whined in protest but he couldn’t give two shits what you wanted. Despite the constant throbbing in his pants, he suddenly had all the patience in the world.

“Tell me, princess. How often do you touch yourself?” He grinned wickedly down at you. You raised your head to look up at him, your body stilling. There was shock written on your face from his words.

“I-never, father! I promise!” Your words were begging of belief but Ransom knew better. Nothing was ever pure and certainly not a pretty thing like you.

“Don’t lie.” He grasped your thighs harshly and gritted his teeth at you. “I asked a question, now answer. Honestly this time.”

Worry took over your features and you shook your head at him. “I promise, i’ve never touched myself down there. Not like that.” Despite Ransom wanting to believe differently, he knew you were telling the truth. Holy shit. There was no way the universe let him get this lucky.

“Then what is the reason for these pretty lil’ panties, huh?” Your undies were pink with a white trim. Bikini cut and a little bow took place on the top hem.

“I just like them, that’s all.” Of course something as innocent as you would naively pick something that would have every guy on his knees at the sight.

“Well you’re ruining ‘em, baby. They’re all soaked in the front.” His index finger ran over the darker shade on your panties and he groaned as he properly felt how wet you were. Your body was craving and calling for him and to think moments before you were trying to tell him no.

You whined and bucked your hips at his contact and he pushed your hips down in protest.

“Sit still.” He commanded you and with a whine you obliged. Little pants left your mouth instead and he watched as your bottom lip slid between your teeth as he pressed harder on your cunt. Snapping your eyes shut, you jerked your head away but couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving your mouth.

So fucking reactive.

Ransom let his finger softly trail around on your undies, teasing and taunting you. He wanted more from you. He wanted to see your control slip. Finally, he let his thumb press into your clit and rub a slight circle.

Obeying Ransoms command to not move, you tried to keep your hips frozen but couldn’t help it as your back arched. Your grip on the desk tightened and a helpless sound left your throat as a spark ignited up your spine from his thumb.

You had never felt anything like this. Your whole body felt Ransoms one touch and you felt like you were vibrating. You needed more. More of him, of his touch-just more. The craving of friction between your legs was so strong and you wanted to close your legs so bad but restrained from fear of Ransoms reaction. But he was teasing you. His kiss was pure fire and lacked restraint, but now he was still. Every one of his moves intentional. Maybe if you asked he would oblige you, even though he hadn’t before.

“More, please, I need more.” Your eyes stared at his but he didn’t look up at you. He seemed to be in some sort of trance, his eyes seared wholly on his thumb as he gently nudged you. “Father…” You begged and finally he looked up.

Once his eyes met yours and he saw the eagerness in them, his resolve snapped. In a blink your panties were off and you lay bare before him.

You were so much more soaked than Ransom had realized. It was practically pouring out of your hole. He needed to fill you now.

Something between a groan and a growl left his mouth and he reached forward for you. Clutching the back of your neck he harshly sat you up. His other hand was already waiting and was quick to push past your surprised mouth.

“Suck.” You immediately took the two fingers around your tongue and obeyed, your wide eyes never leaving his.

Pulled his hand from your mouth, Ransom let it fall to its rightful place between your legs. Fuck him, you were dripping. Messily he smeared your wetness around on your cunt, “All of this for me, baby, and i’ve barely fucking touched you.” Your eyes flashed as you recognized his language but you didn’t do more than whimper at his assault on you.

In circles he rubbed your bud, abandoning the idea of two fingers and using his whole hand. You whimpered and panted as you looked up at him helplessly. Towering over you, he tightened his grip on the back of your neck and pushed you higher to meet him.

Just as your mouths met, he pushed one finger inside of you. Fucking hell, you were tight. Ransom didn’t think he had ever had a cunt this tight before. Not even mentioning the fact that it was untouched. He knew you were going to be the death of him.

You let out a low moan at his intrusion in you and he couldn’t help but let his need out by gripping the back of your head harder and his mouth moving against yours faster. As he moved his single digit inside of you, you let your head fall back and Ransom watched as your eyes fluttered shut. Tired of ordering you around but wanting your submission to him, he changed tactics.

“So fucking tight but you’re grinding on my hand like a bunny, baby. Just because you’re a virgin doesn’t make you pure, honey. You’re a slut just like the rest of ‘em, huh?”

Because of his words or because he had slipped a second finger in you, harsh and quick, your eyes snapped open meeting his. Your jaw was slack but the only sound that left your lips was helpless moans and whimpers at his pace inside you. You shook your head no at Ransom but he only grinned in response.

“Really? ‘Cause i’m fucking you stupid with my fingers, haven’t even gotten my cock yet, and you can’t even form a sentence.” His tone was mocking and condescending and you couldn’t help but whimper. You shook your head at him harder in denial but with a curl of his fingers you were back to being subject to the onslaught of his fingers.

Ransom quickened his fingers rhythm and tried to add a scissor motion within you to help widen you out, but fuck. You were still sucking his fingers in just as much as his first one. Even if he had to tear you hole to hole, he was gonna make his cock fit. You would take him.

“Don’t fucking argue with me.” He seethed down at you and your response. You whimpered but Ransom gripped your neck harder, forcing your face up to his. “Your soaked cunt is sucking my fingers in like it just can’t get enough and only greedy whores act like that.” You whimpered but didn’t shake your head at his words this time.

“Admit you’re nothing but a greedy slut.” He ordered and you gaped up at him. At first your mouth opened and closed in shock but finally you swallowed and obeyed.

“I’m nothing but a greedy slut,” It left your lips so shamefully and was followed by a soft moan from the constant motion of his fingers and he growled. Fuck this, he wasn’t waiting any longer.

“Undo my pants.” He grunted out to you and his gaze dropped to his hand sinking into you. With fumbling fingers your hands met his belt and you quickly tried to undo it. It was haphazard and took you longer than you wanted but you blamed it on the two fingers inside you.

Once his belt was loose and his fly was down you looked back up at him expectantly. There was a glint in his eye as he licked him lips and focused back on you.

“Take my dick out.” Ransom watched as your throat bobbed nervously, your hands lacking less urgency as they moved to the waste-band of his slacks. With a slight push, his pants lay at his ankles and he stood before you in his black button down and boxers. “Take it out!” He ordered harsher this time and his fingers matched his cruel tone as they pressed harder inside you.

You moaned helplessly and obeyed. Pulling at his boxers until they slipped down his legs, you freed his dick. You didn’t want to look at him, at his most intimate body part, but your eyes couldn’t help but ogle.

Ransoms dick looked almost angry- all puffy, red, and dripping in need. But it was the length and size that made you gasp. He was big. Bigger than his fingers, big. You already felt so stretched from his two fingers alone, how were you ever going to take him? As if he could read your mind Ransom cut off your thoughts.

“I’ll make it fit. ‘N you’re gonna take every fucking inch.”

Like they were never there, his hands left your cunt and he mixed your juices with his as he stroked himself with the same hand he just had inside you.

You whimpered helplessly at his lack of contact on you again. Your body was alive, buzzing and burning, and you felt…close. Close to what- you weren’t sure but you knew you needed him back.

His hand dropped from around your neck and he pushed your chest until you lay back on the desk again. Nerves bundled up into your stomach as you saw him move himself closer to your mound. This seemed like a really bad idea.

Ransoms hand cupped your breast and squeezed as he tried to ease the tension building within him. He was stroking himself as he leaned forward and pressed the tip of him into your clit. You whined at the pressure, it was everything but not enough at the same time.

He moved his dick around on your cunt, groaning to himself at the sight. Your hips came up slightly as you sought for more pressure from Ransom and he obliged tapping quick, sharp slaps to your bud with his cock. This was about to be the best fuck of his life.

Finally, he lined himself up with your entrance. His hand pressing down on your pelvis to keep you still. His eyes flickered up to you for a split second and he cursed under his breath at the fear that was held in your eyes, as you should be.

With precision he rolled his hips forward and felt as just the tip slid inside you. You whimpered from below him and he couldn’t even blame you. He could feel all of you, wrapped around just that bit of him and he still had so much more to go.

With a little more pressure he pushed forward and immediately you gasped in protest.

“I can’t! It’s too much! Father, please!” You pleaded with Ransom and your eyes screwed shut at the pressure and pain at your hole. You weren’t ready, you were scared. He was too big.

“Shhhh…” Ransom shushed you and left your breast to cup your chin. “It’s okay. You just need to relax, baby.”

You shook your head at him. You couldn’t do it. But just when you thought it was already too much, Ransom pushed into you some more. A cry left your mouth and you moved to get away from him. Your hands came up in a flail, pushing at his shoulders and you tried to move your legs to gain leverage to push him off of you.

You couldn’t help the tear that left the corner of your eye as the pain sank down your legs. You wanted him off now, but Ransom was ignoring your resistance. He only held onto you harder as the pressure and pain became worse between your legs. In desperation you slapped at him and he growled angrily as he finally lifted his head to your attention.

“Stop fucking moving.” He ordered at you and released his hold on you to grab your moving arms. In a second, they were pinned at your sides, his breath heavy above you. “It’s only going to hurt worse if you don’t stop fucking moving. So when I tell you to relax-you fucking relax. Now stay the fuck still and take it.”

“But it’s too much!” You cried at him.

“Then fucking scream for all I care but stop moving.” He growled at you and you whimpered. Your breaths came up short as you tried to stop your crying but nothing helped. The pain didn’t fade, it only got worse as Ransom started to push forward again.

He wasn’t even in halfway and you were already a blubbering mess. ‘N fuck, he couldn’t seem to get any further. Your cunt was practically pushing him out but he wasn’t gonna fall for that.

In one stroke he pulled himself out and then gave a sharp thrust into you, your body heeding at his force and Ransom had to release your arms to catch himself on the desk. Fuck-he felt like he was about to cum. His thrust had worked, he was sitting in you almost to the hilt, but you were so damn tight around him he couldn’t move. How fucking pathetic of him if he got this far only to cum in one stroke.

Underneath Ransom though, you were not as happy. Your now free hands were gripping his biceps as you sobbed in pain underneath him. You felt him everywhere, was he in your stomach? He was so deep and you were so full but it didn’t feel good at all. It was nothing like the sharp tingles he was giving you earlier with his fingers-no it was pure pain and intrusion. Tears left your eyes and you mumbled incoherent pleads to Ransom to stop. You didn’t like this at all, and it only seemed to be getting worse the longer he sat inside you.

“Fuck, baby. Your cunt is gripping me like a vice. I don’t even feel like I can move, you’re holding me so tight.” Ransom lowered his forehead to rest on the desk above your shoulder.

Inch by inch he rolled his hips backwards easing out before slowly plunging back in until finally he sat fully inside you. You cried out loudly but it seemed to be drowned out by his loud groan. The movement burned and scraped your walls. Your nails dug into Ransoms shoulder as you tried to find some outlet for the pain but nothing was helping.

“Please, it hurts!” You tried one more time and you felt Ransoms breathe on your shoulder before you heard him chuckle.

Slowly he leaned back up above you, his eyes meeting yours again. His eyes held pleasure and mischief whereas you knew yours were full of tears and pain. How could be laughing at you, right now?

In a slow thrust he pulled out of you before pushing in again, harder this time. You cried out woefully as the pain bloomed again within you.

“Baby, nothing could stop me from fucking you right now. This is the best pussy i’ve ever been in and I would have to be fuckin’ crazy to give it up.” With his words he stood fully up again, seated in you.

He reached down and lifted your legs, locking them around his waist. Nervously you played with your hands again, unsure what to do with them now that they left his biceps. Ransom reached for them and lifted them above your head. He placed your grip on the edge of the desk you were lying on.

“You’re gonna need to hold on, princess.” His voice washed over you like water and you listened.

Your grip tightened on the edge as he pushed into you again. A whimper left your lips and you let your head fall back as you accepted your fate. Ransoms hands roamed your body greedily before he anchored them on your hips.

His thrusts were hard but measured as he started his slow rhythm inside you. He let his gaze wander from your pinched face to your tits. They bounced when his body found yours each time. He was in pure heaven. His cock wrapped by your tight cunt and the sight of you finally submitting to him.

He couldn’t help it as his hips started to roll into each thrust, desperate for contact with you. As he moved your eyes flew open and a gasp left your mouth.

“Fuck, I found that spot didn’t I?” He mocked you as he rocked and you whimpered in response. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as before and the feeling blooming in your stomach was better than just his fingers. Everything you were craving before seemed to be answered by his thrusts. As your body heated again, you felt that familiar buzz on your skin and you moaned helplessly as he started to pick up speed.

“Fucking milking my cock.” Ransom teethed out and you felt a sharp hold on your jaw.

“Open your fucking eyes.” You quickly obeyed and he pulled your face up, angling at the lewd act in front of you.

Blood coated the base of his dick and he let out a moan from the sight of your lost innocence.

You watched as he disappeared in you over and over again and moaned as each thrust hit home. Watching, as well as feeling him inside you, sent jolts across your skin.

“That’s right,” Ransom huskily said to you, seeing your reaction to him. “What would that prick Timothy think of you if he could see you being fucked, right now. Hm? That you’re a fucking whore? Being fucked by your pastor in the back of the church he attends every Sunday. Such a god damn slut.”

His words sunk deep and you tried to deny his proclamations but they only fueled the fire in you. He was so deep and you felt every single thrust. The buzz in your bones reached further and you helplessly tried to meet each of his thrusts. Your clit caught on his pelvis at each rock of his hips and you couldn’t stop the little noises that left your throat as the feeling within you reached a pinnacle.

Ransom felt your pussy spasm around him and he grunted at each thrust. Releasing your face, you fell limply back flat onto the desk and he rutted into you harder as he grabbed onto your waist again. He knew you were close and it was all but animalistic how he chased it for you. He wasn’t gonna let some wimp bastard steal your first orgasm. It was going to be him, all of your first were going to be with him and, fuck, that made his hips roll harder.

One moment you were present, the lewd claps and sucking sounds echoing through your head, and the next you were in the heavens. Your body arched off the desk as blood rushed into your ears and you barely heard as you cried out from the feeling that overtook your body. It was pure electricity. Running from your toes to your skull and you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want it to stop though. No, you wanted to live here. In this constant state of pleasure and stars. It was the best feeling you had ever experienced and it consumed you whole.

“Hol-ly shit!” Ransom shouted. Your cunt squeezed his length as you came and he knew he was right fucking there. You grasped him perfectly, every inch being swallowed by you and watching you come around him was all it took for him to find his own nut.

He fucked you through your shivers and spasms and you still whimpered underneath him as his thrusts became faster and irregular.

“Fuck, fuck-FUCK!” He grunted out as finally his orgasm overtook him. At his dicks first flex within you he fell on top of your still body. His hips still moving as his cum bursted out of him in quick ropes.

His own orgasm seemed to last for hours. His dick still twitching as he finally got the hearing in his ears back. Never in his life had he came that hard. Even when he was a virgin, pussy didn’t feel that good. Cumming didn’t feel that good. No, that was all you. Ransom gave you that credit.

You moved beneath the weight of Ransom, your breathing slowly starting to become normal again. You couldn’t help but let your hands fall onto his back, slowly feeling the muscles that were hidden beneath his shirt. Realization struck you as you both settled down from your highs.

You had just lost your virginity. Had sex before marriage. Let him curse and mock you as he took it from you and you couldn’t help but feel…content. You knew you should be regretting your actions. Shoving him off of you and leaving the room in a hurry, but you didn’t.

It was the priest who took it from you. He knew much more than you and you couldn’t help but feel pride that it had been with him you gave yourself to. Still worry pinched your stomach.

“Am I going to get pregnant?” You questioned. It was more of an inward thought but you had whispered it aloud to Ransom.

Fuck, he had forgotten a condom and of course you wouldn’t be on birth control. Never had he been so consumed by pussy that he let safety slip.

Ransom groaned as he pushed himself up on his forearms. He was rarely ever spent after sex. Maybe on very drunk nights he lazily passed out or even after multiple rounds but you had exhausted him just from that one cum alone. Looking down at you he took in your state. Your hair was a mess around your head and your cheeks were still flushed from being fucked. He had the urge to take you again but the urge to sleep was stronger.

“I’ll take care of it.” He responded. He didn’t really have it in his budget right now to pay for a fifty dollar pill but it was better than the thousands spent on a kid.

Pushing himself fully off of you and standing, Ransom eased out of you and you hissed in protest. Your walls were sore from the sex and he knew he had done his job properly. Hopefully you wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for a couple of days.

Tucking your elbows under you, you leaned up fully taking in the sight of you. Faint bruises laced your hips from his grasp and you gasped. Had he really been gripping you that hard?

Ransom moved to tuck his dick into his boxers as he pulled his pants up, quickly tightening his belt. He tossed you your under things and clothes and you stared at him in confusion. That’s it? So much had just happened and he was giving you your clothes like it was casual. This was not casual.

“But,” You moved to sit up as you quickly worked to cover your nude state. “we’re gonna be married right?”

Ransom turned to you. The question catching him off guard. No one had ever asked him such a wild question before and it brought reality back to him. He was a priest, you were his pupil, this could spread like wildfire and his whole position could be threatened. He didn’t want to stay here permanently but until things cooled down for him, it was his safest option. Marriage, on the other hand, was a little too permanent for his liking.

But as Ransom took in the sight of you, wincing as you stood and frantically trying to put on your undies, he was reminded just how perfect you were. You were easy and convenient. You had obeyed his every command without fail and none of his previous fucks had ever gotten him off like you had.

He smiled at you and moved to cup your face with his hands. Pulling you up to your toes he let his lips press into yours. So different from the previous times he had kissed you, he put meaning and care into this one.

“Baby, you were made for me. Of course we’re getting married.” You smiled at his response, leaning back into his lips.

But you missed the glint in his eye when he spoke. He wasn’t gonna marry you because it was the proper way for you to be treated. No, he was marrying you because there was no way in hell another man would ever touch you again. You were his. For whenever and wherever he pleased. An object for his pleasure, not yours.

Ransom released you and let you return to finish dressing. He desperately needed to shower off the sweat that had collected on his back and go to fucking bed. Your pussy had drained the life out of him but he couldn’t complain if every time he fucked you it left him this spent.

“I’m all sticky and wet. It’s uncomfortable.” You whined as you finished putting on your last shoe. You moved awkwardly as you stood. Your face scrunched at the feeling of cum running out of you. Ransom wished he would see it dripping out.

“Let it sit, baby. I want you to remember me for a little bit longer.” He grabbed hit coat off the rack and folded it over his arm.

“Can I tell my parents we’re engaged?” There was so much hope in your voice as you collected your belongings yourself.

“No, not yet.”

“But they’re gonna be thrilled by the news!” You eagerly looked up at him and he felt irritation climb his spine. Maybe a sweet cunt wasn’t worth this much annoyance. Youth was also an ignorant curse.

“Some people won’t understand us, princess. Won’t understand God joining us together. Just give it time and i’ll let you know when we can tell them. Together, hm?” He cupped your cheek and even appeased you with a kiss on the forehead. You still sighed in complaint as you both head towards the door, but stayed silent.

Ransom knew you would abide by his word and wouldn’t tell a soul. Maybe one day you would realize the fault in letting him command you, but it wasn’t today. ‘N he knew it wouldn’t be for a long while. He had you whipped good. Especially when your soreness passed and you were craving only what he gave you, you would come to him begging for more. Probably go down on your knees for him.

Blood rushed to his dick and the thought and he grinned to himself. It was only after he had flipped the light switch and closed the door behind ya’ll, sealing the memories of your actions in the room did he realize he didn’t even pick up the stuff from the floor that he hurriedly shoved off.

He didn’t even catch your name.

[navybrat817]

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!

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.”

Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be good to you. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ransom Drysdale Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi