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buck-star · 16 days ago

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Unspoken desires

You never thought the deep sparkle in your best friend’s eyes could be something you will enjoy just as much as he does. But somehow it does and it causes a deeper relationship between the two of you.

Pairing: BestFriend!Dom!Ransom Drysdale x BestFriend!Sub!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.362 Words

Warnings/Tags: Best Friends to lovers, dom/sub dynamics, teasing talking about spanking, petnames [sweet pie, baby girl], fluff

Authors Note: @holylulusworld here it is. Dividers made by me.

Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Warm sunbeams warm up the cool air, brightening the day and flooding everything in a wonderful yellow-orange color. The perfect, romantic atmosphere - perfectly fitting your mood when you're with your best friend.

You're seated on the comfortable mattress of Ransom's bed, your back resting against the headboard while your legs are stretched out. In one of your hands, you hold the remote to switch through the channels while you use the other to pick at your lip, getting rid of the dry skin.

“Stop that,” the low voice of your best friend suddenly echoes through the room. His usual soft tone now demanding and leaving no room for arguments. He leans with his broad, muscular body in the door frame to his bedroom, his ocean blue eyes darkening slightly and his lips in a thin line. “Not gonna ask you again. Stop that.”

You look at Ransom with big eyes, your fingers glued to your lips. Your mind isn’t as fast as he wants it to be. He just appears with such a dominance in front of you, you need a moment to collect yourself. You swallow thickly, letting your hand fall into your lap. Your tongue instinctively swipes over your lips, wetting them, and you feel another bit of old skin that annoys you. But for some reason you don't dare to bring your hand back up, to do anything else than what he's saying.

Ransom smiles softly, pushing himself off the door frame. His muscles flex when he does so, and you swallow down the whimper that threatens to escape your mouth. Your best friend stands straight before he walks - with those damn elegant and slow movements - to the drawer where the television is placed on. “If you have dry lips, drink and use some balm for them.”

He takes out a little thing from the drawer, closing it before he walks around the bed and sits down on the edge, next to you. Ransom opens the little bottle - probably some balm he was talking about - and squirts some of it on his pointer finger. You watch him intensely; something changed in his behavior around you, and you wonder what it is.

Of course, Ran always cares about you, his best friend. And maybe those butterflies you always feel in your stomach when you're around him are the reason that you think his behavior changed. Maybe he didn't change it at all, but you only imagine it and wish for it to be anything more than friends.

“Open up, sweetie pie,” he mumbles, using your usual pet name. Your eyes move from his finger to his face, taking in his soft smile and the softness in his blue eyes, but somehow there was more. Something you're sure you never saw before, a sparkle that shows a deeper desire that he doesn't speak out loud. His voice is suddenly an octave deeper when he speaks up again. “Open up.”

You slowly part your lips, eyes looking directly into his. Ransom smirks at you, bringing his finger, covered in the balm, to your lips, slowly moving it over them. He frowns, one of his eyebrows raising as he keeps the soft stroking over your dry lips.

“How much did you drink already?” He questions, keeping his thumb on your lower lip but stopping the soft motion of rubbing the balm into them. You look down, swallowing before you look at him again. His intense gaze feels like he could watch into your soul with ease, and it causes another whimper to roll up your throat.

“M-Maybe a glass…” you mumble, cheeks heating up when you drop your gaze once more. Ransom shakes his head, a soft sigh escaping his plump lips. He doesn't like the lack of self care - knowing it will affect you at one point. “But- But it's only, uh, early afternoon.”

“I don't like that,'“ he whispers, leaning closer. Ransom swipes his fingers under your chin, lifting it up so you have to face him. His blue orbs holding softness, concern, but also a hint of dominance. The hint deep down, captured in a capture you want to open to get to know more of that side. “I don't like when you have such a lack of self-care, baby girl.”

This time you can’t swallow down the whimper that escapes your lips. Your eyes widen when you hear the needy sound coming from you. Ransom smirks, noticing the way you try to turn away from him to hide yourself in his pillow. He immediately reaches out to wrap his calloused hand around your throat and pull you back to him.

“Where are you going, baby girl?” He asks, grinning when he feels the way you swallow thickly. His hand is only loosely wrapped around your throat, not adding pressure but showing who’s in control. And this damn nickname, it's like he loves it to tease you with it now. Another whimper escapes you, and you feel the heat rising into your face further. “That's what you like, naughty girl.”

“R-Ran,” you gasp, grabbing his arm, Your nails sink into his skin, but he keeps smiling at you with that soft expression. And, damn, he knows what he’s doing to you, the softness turning into a more cocky expression. If you wouldn't be so speechless, you would smack him, but something tells you to not do that right now, not when he's the one in control.

You press your thighs together, feeling the fabric of your panties being soaked from the dominance he's showing toward you. Ransom looks down your body, noticing the movement of your legs, the way you press them together. He raises a brow when his eyes settle back on your face.

“Not only liking it, baby girl, loving it, huh?” He chuckles. Ransom's hand still around your throat, adding a bit of pressure to push you back into the pillows behind you. He leans down with you a bit before he lets go of your throat and sits back up. “Lost your big girl words, baby? You need me to tell you what you think, or else I have to assume that you don't like it.”

You want to roll your eyes, to sit up to punch his shoulder slightly, but somehow you stay where you are. Your mind clouded with need, a need you never thought you would ever feel, but here it is. Ransom keeps looking at you, closing the little bottle of balm and placing it on the nightstand. Your lips form into a soft pout when your eyes roam over his face and down to his muscular shoulders, further down to his hands in his lap. The hand that was just brushing your lips and wrapped around your throat. How is it possible for him to be so calm and smiling while you're feeling like a puddle in his hands.

Ransom's expression suddenly changes when you don't answer him. Concern is written all over his face when he shifts. He grasps your waist and pulls you onto his lap. One of his big hands finds its way to your thighs, while the other settles on your lower back, rubbing soft circles into your skin.

“Are you okay? Was it too much? I'm sorry if it was,” Ransom mumbles, watching your expression and body language intensely. He keeps the soft motion of his hand on your back while he waits patiently for you to answer him.

“R-Ran, what was that?” You whisper, leaning your head against his broad chest. He assumed punches, screaming for being so weird, but the first thing you asked was what that was. Wasn't it obvious?

“I-I dominated you; I had the control,” he explains. Searching for a more detailed explanation since you look still a bit in a haze. “You picked your lips; I don't like when you do it. I neither do like it when you drink too little for your own good. I'm sorry, I should have asked and… I fuck—”

You bring one of your hands to his muscular chest, stroking it softly over his shirt. Ransom looks down at your smaller hand, smiling softly.

“I couldn't help myself. You… I-I’m more of the dominant one, and my first ex, she’s a sub; we discovered a lot together, and after…” Ransom stops, running his hand that was placed on your thighs through his soft locks before placing it back on your thighs, filling your stomach with the familiar warmth you always feel around him. “After I wasn't in a relationship most people consider as normal. Of course, there are times when it's less of the dom and sub dynamic, but it’s still mostly a d/s relationship. And with you… honey pie.”

Ransom inhales deeply, pulling you closer like he fears that you could jump off his lap and run away. You wrap one of your arms around his neck, leaning further into him as you press your other palm against his chest, feeling his racing heart. Ransom is barely nervous; he's always so calm and grounded with everything he's doing.

“I love you,” he breathes out. You blink, forcing yourself to push back slightly and look at him. Does the guy in the movie have the same soft voice Ransom has, or did he really just confess his feelings to you? “I love you; I'm so in love with you, honey pie. But I'm afraid… afraid that you don’t like that side of me but also th-that I can't give you what a ‘normal' relationship would offer you. The dominance took over when I saw you picking your lips again. I'm sorry.”

“Are you stupid?” You blurt out, clamping a hand down on your mouth immediately. Ransom chuckles softly, shrugging. He might be a bit stupid, at least stupid in love. “I-I it was intense to give up control like that. But in a good way, I-I… I never thought it would feel that good to let someone take control.”

Your admission surprises Ransom slightly. Of course, he has seen your widened eyes, your parted lips, and your clenched thighs, but your reaction afterwards made him unsure about seeing your reaction right. He moves his hand from your thighs up to your chin, turning your face softly until your eyes are locked with his.

“You should freak out,” he mumbles with a soft laugh. “Not just because I confessed the kind of relationships I like but also because of the love confession.”

The soft giggle coming from you makes his heart beat faster and his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Mhm, no, nothing to freak out. But… I love you too,” you admit with a soft giggle, hiding your face in his broad chest. “And this whole dominance, it suits you; it makes you even hotter, and so mhmmmm.”

“So what?” Ransom laughs, mimicking the tone you made with a low chuckle, his chest vibrating. “So, you liked it, and you love me… then-” he interrupts himself, his heartbeat increasing, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

You rub your hand up and down his chest, trying to soothe him. You lean closer, grinning when you kiss him softly. Ransom gasps, immediately trying to catch up to kiss you back. Your teeth graze his lips, and he shudders until you tip down slowly and earn a growl from your best friend.

“You earn yourself a spanking if you keep teasing me, baby girl,” he growls, his voice in that low, dominant tone. You shiver in his lap, pulling back only slightly, your breath hitching in excitement; you bite your lip, keeping the soft grin on your lips. “Let go of your lip, or you will count the spanks.”

You whimper, pressing your thighs together - and fuck, this shouldn't be that hot, but it is. He clears his throat, leaning closer until his lips are firmly pressed against your forehead. His voice once again soft and tender when he speaks up. “Do you want to be mine?”

“Sub or girlfriend?” You wonder, tracing your fingers over his chest to his abs. His breath quickens the lower your hand moves, and you giggle when you feel him shifting underneath you. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his chest and leaving his on top of your smaller hand.

“Both. I mean… if you want. I want you, and if you say you don't… don't like the whole d/s relationship stuff, then I will try to give you the best of me without these aspects,” he murmurs, inhaling deeply. His heart is racing; of course, he loves you anyway, but a part of him hopes that you will agree to the whole him, to his desires that make the bond between people stronger than just a normal relationship. “If you want to. D/s relationships are built on trust and love, way more than a ‘normal' one; sometimes, they connect you in more ways. But if you say no, we will make it the deepest love relationship without those things.”

It’s not Ransom trying to convince you to agree to him. It was your best friend who’s deeply in love with you, promising you everything you ask for.

“You already gave me a taste of your dominance, and you think someone can say no to that then?” You giggle, shaking your head. “I would love to be yours, your girlfriend, but also your sub.”

Ransom nods, letting himself fall backwards on his bed, pulling you with him. His strong arms snake around you, and he grips you even tighter, purring low in his chest. “Decide on a movie so you can calm down a bit before we have to go over some basics, rules, limits, you know. And then we will get you something to drink. Damn, finally you're all mine, baby girl.”

With a chuckle, you adjust yourself on top of him and look for something you want to watch with him. Ransom presses his lips softly on your hair. Your heart flutters at the thought of belonging to him but also knowing that he belongs to you - that he loves you, too.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @blackhawkfanatic @hisredheadedgoddess28 @armystay89 [add yoruself]

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months ago

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| Handprints |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Hugh Ransom Drysdale x Fiancé Reader (F)

✧Warnings✧ Soft Rannie, Jealousy, Some lil bitch flirting with what’s yours, Insecurities, Wow Ransom knows comfort??, Drinking, Crying, Assault (deserved), Unprotected PinV, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare King — This is pretty tame for me but if I’ve missed any warnings please don’t be afraid to let me know

✧Word Count✧ 1.4K

✧Author Note✧ Everyone say frick you to this man because I ain’t been able to get things done thanks to his stupidly handsome face and my brain hyperfixating on it. Fr tho I have WIPs, ideas and everything inbetween all left to rot because this son of a bitch is plaguing my mind. He’s so hot tho….

Also big thx to my homegirlies @samodivaa @delicatebarness for reading my filth and coming up with the title 🫶

You didn’t want to go out with Ransom tonight. You had your evening all planned out; sex in the shower, snuggling in bed, sex there too — the whole shebang. But of course, Ransom found himself invited to a dinner party with some old friends that he was excited to introduce you to, so your evening was cut short to merely sharing the shower with him and fleeting kisses between tellings of his long day — he didn’t even have time to make you cum.

The night was enjoyable; most of your fiancé's friends were just like him so you could deal with them. Until she arrived, her curves wrapped in a beautiful floor-length golden gown, her incredibly blonde locks curled to perfection and her eyes predatory.

“Oh my god Rannie!!” She squealed at the sight of your incredibly handsome man, outstretching her perfect little arms and pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Hey Charlotte” Ransom smiled wide, perfect pearly white teeth directed at the stunning lady “This is my fiancé” he said, reaching a large ringed hand out to envelop yours.

Charlotte turned, that cute little lady act dropping to a sneer when she turned her attention to you. Jealously oozed out of her, jealously and bewilderment. Her scrutinising glare made you feel ugly and small.

“Hey,” she forced, spitting your name back at you. Her hand squeezed Ransom’s bicep “Wow Ran you’ve gotten big…” her eyes flickered to him before returning to you “Did you see him in high school, he was so scrawny, skinny little arms and a big bobblehead. Bet you get a lot of girls' attention now hm?”

God you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Maybe but I’ve only got my eyes on one” Your betrothed looked upon you with sparkling blue orbs, squeezing your hand tight. For a moment the party faded leaving you both staring into each other's adoring eyes until Charcuterie cut it short with a fake ‘awww’.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” she says, giving Ransom a bright, man-killing smile and you a much duller, green eyed glare.

“Well that went well.”

“Huh?” Ransom turns, pulling you close by your waist and laying a soft kiss on your forehead.

“She likes you,”

“Yuh huh?”

“And she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you” he guffawed, his eyes scrunching up until the blue was barely visible.

“She does, she’s jealous” you argued, pushing him away slightly.

“I think you’re projecting pretty girl” he joked, quickly reining in his laugh when he noticed how upset you looked. Ransom put on a more serious look, hooking a finger under your chin with his free hand “Baby, you’re the only person I want. I only love you” You knew that. There was just something in that girl's gorgeous eyes that made your whole mind thrum with insecurity.

“I know” You pouted and he kissed you with a coo.

“Of course you do, look at the size of that rock on your finger” For effect he clasped your left hand, shoving the massive crystal into your eyeline.

The rest of the night you tried to let the situation with Charlotte go. You stuck around your fiancé most of the evening, stealing his warmth while listening to his old college football teammate drum on and on about how good of a quarterback Ransom once was.

“I remember one game he got rushed to hospital trying to challenge this mountain of a man. He was on his ass and there was blood pouring out of his head.”

“That must’ve been why he thought it was a good idea to settle for someone like her, y’know with the head injury.” A loud laugh came from behind your small huddle, you knew who it was before you even turned.

“That was out of order Charlotte” a girl in your group chastised, glaring at the now very drunk woman.

“Oh I don’t care, you lot sugarcoat everything. Ransom you could do so much better than…that” Her ringed hand failed in your direction, and a growl settled on her lips at the mere sight of you. It was enough to push you over the edge.

Shoving Ransom’s arm off your shoulders you darted away, heading straight for the car you came here in. You had to get out of the crowd, you were thoroughly embarrassed and angry at the whole situation, fat tears falling down your face by the time you swung the passenger door open.

You don’t know how long it took Ransom to settle in the seat beside you, not too long anyway. Instantly his arms were around you, a hand cradling your head into his neck while the other rubbed up and down your spine.

“I'm so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry” His words were thick with remorse, his fingers tightening around you “We shouldn’t have come here.”

He let you cry until you ran out of tears, his arms wrapped around you tightly until you pulled away, sighing at the wet patch on his tan jacket.

“I’m sorry” you whispered in a low voice, rubbing a sleeve over his wet shoulder in a feeble attempt to dry it off.

“Don’t apologise, pretty girl, that's what I’m here for. For letting you cry on me…and for slapping whoever disrespects what’s mine.”

“What?” You gawked, red eyes wide at his words.

“I smacked the shit outta her, she’ll think twice about saying shit like that again.” He looked so nonchalant about the whole thing, a pout of sheer unconcern pulling on his lips.

You tried to look appalled at your man’s actions, letting your jaw hang low in astonishment, but it quickly dissolved, a smile breaking out and a shocked laugh bubbling forth.

“Oh my god Hugh Drysdale!!” You smacked his arm softly, giggling freely at just the thought of that blonde’s face with Ransom’s handprint on the side of it. “We gotta get out of here before she calls the cops.”

“Agreed.” He hummed, starting the engine and setting off down the road, singing away to your shared playlist.

“Fuck baby, fucking hell…”

There was a distinct schlick schlick sound coming from the ajar door of the massive house leaving a tiny part of your brain silently thankful for its size. The rest of you doesn’t give a flying fuck.

Ransom laid out on his back beneath you, face and chest flushed and his hair awry thanks to your wandering hands. His hands gripped at your hips, helping you bounce on his thick length, chasing your third orgasm of the night. Somewhere along the journey home your insecurities and jealousy fizzled into raw desire, your hands groping at Ransom while he drove. You barely made it through the front door before you jumped his bones, shoving him into the wall and swallowing his length with ease only experience would get you. Charlotte could never.

“Taking me like such a good girl—fuckkkk—yes baby squeeze my dick” Not only was he a mess physically, his brain had short-circuited after you straddled his body, ripping the belt from the loops of his pants.

“So full Rannie” you whimpered, collapsing onto your hands. Sweat dripped off your forehead and onto his body, you fucked him ferally like two people with nothing on the brain except each other — which wasn’t far from the truth.

“That’s it, good girl, gimme one more baby I know you can” Ransom urged, pushing himself into a sit and using the last of his brainpower to sink a hand between your joined bodies to rub tight circles over your puffy clit.

“She could never make you feel this good could she?” you gripped at his locks, moaning into his open mouth. Ransom’s head shook violently in your grasp, muttering out how you were the only woman in the world that could make him feel this euphoric. Your orgasm was approaching quicker and quicker, jumping over each mental hurdle until all that was left for your brain to think of was the man filling you to the brim.

“Fuck shit m’fucking close baby, gonna fill you up again, you want that huh? Want my cum in that messy little cunt?”

His words hooked your release between their clawed fingers and hurtled it into your body. Your world went white, your body stiffening and your walls milking the man below you for all he was worth. He spilt the last of what he could offer right against your cervix, holding you tight as he shouted like a madman.

The room settled, the only sounds being your mixed breaths gasping for air.

“That was good” Ransom chuckled, pulling out of your with a hiss and flipping you over “might need to make you jealous more.”

“Don’t you dare” you warned with a glare, sealing your lips with his when he leaned down, cleaning up the mess between your legs before dealing with his own.

“I really am sorry about tonight baby, you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that” The brunette broke the silence that had overcome you both, his fingers massaging down your spine.

“It’s alright, she got what she deserved.”

“Yes” Ransom nodded, resting his weight against your back “and you got what you did too.”

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~

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rosedpetal · 7 months ago

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A Good Father

Summary: Ransom shows his family he knows how to take care of his own kid.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (as his baby mamma)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Author's note: this is a repost.

Masterlist

If years ago someone ever told Ransom that he'd get married and have children, he'd laugh in their faces. Whenever anyone in his family brought the topic of him settling down, he would leave the table and curse at them.

Until you came in the picture.

He was having the worst day ever, and he desperately needed a cookie. So, he went to the grocery store and was about to pick the last package left of his favorite cookies on the aisle, when you swayed your damned hips and got the package first.

Ransom was livid. He threw the most embarrassing tantrum ever, threatening to call security on you and ruin your life, but you just laughed at his face and asked if he wanted to share. Share! How dared you?

So, you bought the cookies and gave him half. After the first bite, his mood improved and he actually asked you out on a date. It was the best night of his life.

Five years later, you were married and had a baby. You moved to a nice house in a quiet neighborhood, and even adopted a stray dog (well, he just got home from work one day and the puppy was chewing on one of his expensive shoes, while you had the widest grin he ever saw on someone's face).

Ransom loved you with all his heart. And when you gave birth to your baby daughter, he loved her beyond words.

But right now, you were set on making him miserable.

"I'm not talking about this again, Hugh." You pointed your finger at him and he flinched. You never called him by his name. "You're going and you're taking Lily with you. Her nanny is sick, and I have to work."

"But babe-"

"Not. Another. Word." You gave him one of your deadly stares, and he actually felt sorry for Lily having such a scary mother. After petting your dog's fur, you turned to Lily on the highchair and peppered her face with kisses, while she giggled. "Mommy's gonna miss you so much baby boo, you tell me if your daddy misbehave!"

Ransom tried not to roll his eyes at you. You pecked him on the lips and he pouted. Before you left the kitchen, he called you:

"Babe, don't forget your jacket. It might get cold."

You smiled at him. You knew he was upset for having to take Lily to his family's horrible get-together.

After your car left the garage, he looked at his chubby baby, wondering if he'd succeed in shielding her from the evil of his family.

Things change after having your first child. First, Ransom started saving money. No more shopping sprees for him. Then, he actually tried to get his own thing, in which he failed miserably. Seeing his struggle, his good old grandad secured him with the ownership of their publishing company (for Walt's despair). The only catch: he'd have to show to family meetings at least until Harlan Thrombey's death.

Which was how he was stuck in this mess in the first place.

Ransom was not stupid. He could handle these annoying game nights, dinners and whatever by provoking everyone and leaving after setting the mood for a big fight.

But bringing his baby with him?

Big no.

Well, you shared his opinion on this. You two would avoid having Lily in their company as best as you could, but some things couldn't be helped.

Your trusted nanny called in sick, and you couldn't bring Lily to work.

Ransom wanted to cry.

He took the fussing Lily out of the baby seat and struggled to put her in the carrier attached to his front, got her pink bag on his shoulder and closed the door of the car with his feet (how you managed to do all these things so gracefully were beyond him). He got on the front porch of Harlan's home and wanted to scream. What the hell was his great-grandmother doing there, sitting alone on that chilly afternoon, with such a thin blanket covering her?

"Hey Nana, why don't we go drink some tea inside?" He offered. The small old woman nodded, in a way he new she didn't actually acknowledged him.

Fuck his family for treating Nana like she was something disposable.

Ransom took Nana's small hand on his and carried her to an armchair in the living room, where Fran was serving tea to Harlan.

Before Ransom could even say "hi" his grandfather was already up and speaking in his "baby" voice with Lily. His daughter giggled, showing her cute teeny tiny new teeth.

It was fucking cute, but the days of Lily's teething made Ransom and Y/N traumatized.

"Hi to you too, granddad." Ransom rolled his eyes, sitting across his grandfather's seat.

"Tea?" Fran offered Ransom. He thanked her, an habit you made him build. Saying "thanks", and "please", things his parents didn't bother to teach him. He wanted Lily to be better than him, and by that, he had to make himself better than whatever he was.

The first time Ransom apologized to Fran, the woman was so shocked that she broke in a fit of hysterical laughter, while Marta just blinked like she was imagining things.

Ransom took a walk with Lily still safely attached to his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but she was getting heavier and harder to carry all the times. God, after five minutes he needed to sit down on a wooden trunk to recover.

Feeling like his breath was coming to normal again, Ransom went back to the house, noticing that there were more cars parked there.

Here comes the shit show.

At the dining table, Richard's voice mixed with Walt's, like they were competing on who would talk louder. Linda absently smoked a cigarette, promptly ignoring Joni. Jacob and Meg where fighting over politics or some shit, and Donna was on her phone.

A miserable-looking Marta sat between Fran and Nana on the small couch on the corner.

And Harlan ignored the rest of them, with a glass of whiskey dancing in his hand.

"Oh, there he is! And look who is here too!" Linda beamed, putting out the cigarette.

Ransom grimaced when his mother's nicotine smelling hand brushed against his daughter's face. Lily was so calmed before, and it broke his heart when she started crying her lungs out, like she wanted to be away from Linda's greedy presence.

Lily's crying made everyone shut up. She was born eight months ago, and they saw her only once, when Ransom and Y/N took her to Harlan's when she was a newborn. Linda and Richard tried to visit Ransom's house a few times, but they quickly grew bored of the grandparents role.

Joni, Donna and Walt couldn't really care less for baby Drysdale. Meg tried to be as nice as she could with Lily, but she was terrified of babies. As for Jacob, Ransom didn't want that little creep close to his daughter.

"Oh, Ransom, is she hungry or something?" Linda grimaced at Lily's screams.

No, mother, she's upset because she hates you. Ransom wanted to yell at Linda's face, but he just took Lily in his arms and rocked her gently, kissing her sweaty temple and running his thumb over her tears.

"Shh, love. 'S okay, daddy's here for you. My brave little girl, everything's gonna be alright, I'm here for you." Ransom whispered gently to Lily.

Linda gulped, suddenly feeling her eyes watering. She wondered if she could go back she'd be a better mother. She doesn't remember ever holding Ransom like that, not even when he was a baby. She didn't even breastfeed him, and she and Richard never woke up in the middle of night to soothe Ransom's cries. Not when they had nannies for that. Not when they could buy their way of not giving him their time or affection.

"You're good with her, son." Richard cleared his throat, feeling the same guilt wash over him.

"Of course I'm good with my own daughter." Ransom scoffed, still rocking Lily in his arms. He lowered his head to her. "There you go, baby. Wanna hang out with auntie Marta while daddy spend some time with these assholes? Huh?"

Marta smiled a little at the snarky remark, and Ransom passed Lily to her, who was already making grabby hands for Marta.

Of course she likes the immigrant nurse, Linda bitterly thought.

"Wow, that was so cute, Ransom!" Meg complimented. "You make me think even I could be a good parent! No offense, of course."

"None taken, cousin. Having children is life changing if you're ever willing to have your own."

"Ohhh, I miss when Meg was that tiny. You were the cutest thing ever, baby." Joni took Meg's hand on her own. Donna and Walt's gaze strayed to Jacob, who smiled at them.

The memories of Linda, Neil and Walt's feet running in the house flooded Harlan's memory. How he missed them like that. How he missed his deceased son and wife.

The atmosphere in the living room was way more harmonious, almost soothing. The Thrombey-Drysdale family was taken aback by Ransom's behavior. They never thought he'd be a good father.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #cevans characters #chris evans fanfiction

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months ago

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Nothing Has Changed - 14

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

You knew that Steve and Bucky weren't as close as they used to be, but seeing it up close felt even more awkward. Bucky, on the other hand, didn't seem stressed despite his mother being sent to jail.

As you watched Bucky load your groceries into your car, you asked, “I don't feel any bromance between you and Steve anymore.”

Bucky shrugged, not missing a beat as he placed another bag in the trunk. “Well… I won’t deny it. Ever since we all went our separate ways, while Steve stayed, everything just became different.”

“I did offer him a job at the resorts, but he declined.” His voice held a note of regret. “It’s sad that we’re not close anymore.”

You watched him for a moment, feeling a pang of something you couldn't quite identify. You never had someone who used to be close to you turn into a stranger. The closest person you had was Ransom. He betrayed you once but still kept in contact. Then there was Harlan, the only older person who was like a grandfather figure to you. But he's gone now.

“You're a good friend,” you said softly.

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “Did… Did you just give me a compliment?”

“No.” You quickly got into your car, hoping to hide the faint smile on your face.

He chuckled and hummed, “Yes, you did.”

As you closed the car door, he knocked on the window. You rolled it down a little. “What?”

“I know I'm asking a lot, but could you help out at the resort again?” Bucky’s voice was earnest, almost pleading.

You raised an eyebrow. The idea of going back to the place that kicked you out felt just as wrong as when you got fired from Drysdale. Memories of the humiliation and hurt still stung.

Bucky seemed to sense your hesitation. “I will make sure the environment is different this time.”

That got your attention. “How?”

“You'll see it tomorrow.” He smirked a hint of mischief in his eyes, and then turned to leave. You watched him walk away, a mix of curiosity and skepticism swirling in your mind.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

The next morning, you woke up with uncertain feelings. Should you go back? But you decided to give it a try.

When you parked your car, you saw someone walking out the door carrying a box. It was Natasha.

You got out of the car and walked past her. Natasha glared at you, spitting out, “Bitch. Are you happy?”

You stopped and turned to face her, feeling a newfound confidence. “What did I do that made Bucky fire you? Tell me. All the evidence points to Lydia.”

Natasha flinched, taken aback by your directness. The old you would have been too afraid to talk back to her.

In truth, only Bucky knew the real reason she was fired. She had been receiving hush money from Lydia. The first time she caught Lydia red-handed, stealing money from the vault and stuffing it into her designer bag, she was paid off to keep quiet.

Her front desk salary couldn't buy her designer bags and shoes with cash. The money from Lydia was the reason she could afford them. But no matter what she had, it was nothing compared to what you possessed.

“Tsk.” She clicked her tongue and walked away.

You sighed. She hadn't changed. She always lashed out at you.

“Did she bother you?” Bucky's voice broke through your thoughts.

“No. She just blamed me,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

“I'm used to it. She hasn't changed at all,” then turned and walked into the building.

You started working again. You felt more relaxed, perhaps because Lydia and Natasha were no longer there to cast their shadows.

‘Knock, knock.’

You lifted your head and saw Jake standing at the door.

“You're back,” he said, stepping inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, continuing your work.

He took a seat in front of you. “Me and the other employees are grateful to you.”

“Why?” you asked, looking up.

“Because those women are gone,” Jake said.

Your pen stopped moving. “Was it that bad?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “Well, we kinda knew. But we couldn't do anything. Especially me. This place was the only one that gave me a job after what happened.”

You leaned forward, curious. “Can I ask what happened to you? Someone as smart as you making a mistake like that doesn’t seem right.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “People won’t believe me when I tell them, but I guess you could understand it.”

“Me?” You raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Just like you, I was framed for something I didn’t do.”

Before Jake came back, he had a good job at an IT security company. But he was blinded by money when he got an offer to make a gambling website.

“Wait… what about the rumor you hacked the Department of Defense’s security?” you asked, intrigued.

Jake leaned in, lowering his voice. “That’s… well, off the record. I can’t tell you about that. But it wasn’t the reason I got arrested.”

The reason he got arrested was someone tipped off the authorities that he was the person who made the illegal gambling website. Jake did, but he was also accused of receiving $30 million from money laundering that was used on the site.

“Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you know who asked you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, scratching his head. “It's my own fault too. I got the request from the dark web. It was difficult to prove to the judge, and I didn’t have the money to pay for a good lawyer.”

“How did you get released?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“I got a plea deal. I knew some secrets. Do you want to know?” Jake winked at you.

You scoffed, “No thank you,” and went back to work.

Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, thanks for what you did here. It means a lot to all of us.”

You nodded, acknowledging his gratitude, but focused on your work.

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

You went back home, only to see the last person you wanted to see walking out of your house—the mayor.

You stayed in your car until he left, then got out and headed inside.

When you entered the house, you saw Tom sitting on a chair with his head resting on his hand. He looked stressed and pale.

You rushed to him and touched his shoulder. “Father?”

Tom flinched, then looked up at your face. He patted your arm. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” you asked, your voice filled with concern.

“Could you stop whatever you're doing right now?” he said, his voice trembling.

Seeing how stressed and scared your father was, you knew it could only mean one thing—the mayor had given him a warning.

“Did he threaten you?” you asked, your eyes searching his face.

Tom shook his head. “No, he just gave me some advice. Lydia has all the connections. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bullshit. It wasn’t advice. It was clear that Lydia and the mayor were partners in crime.

“I'll listen to you,” you said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

Tom sighed in relief and nodded, glad you didn’t object. “I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

Before you could answer, your phone vibrated. It was Steve. “I’m going to take this,” you said, stepping away.

You moved to another room. “Hey.”

Steve’s voice came through the line. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ve arrived at the art gallery,” Steve said.

“That’s great!” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

“Y/N?” he continued, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Hmm?” you prompted.

“I feel so small surrounded by these skyscrapers,” he admitted.

You remembered feeling the same way when you first arrived in the city.

“But it gives big opportunities,” Steve added, a note of hope in his voice.

You smiled, feeling a bit lighter. At least there was some good news. “Stay optimistic like that, and you’ll get it, Steve.”

🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

In a big house, a woman lay on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine. An ankle bracelet adorned her right ankle—it was Lydia.

Bucky came home and walked into the living room, his footsteps echoing in the spacious room.

The moment she saw him, her expression twisted with anger. She hurled the magazine toward him, but he caught it effortlessly.

“You're just like him,” she spat, her voice dripping with bitterness.

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caplanbuckybarnes · 4 months ago

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Betrayal (Ransom Drysdale)

Summary: Ransom finds out you betrayed him.

WC: 499

Warnings: angst

Read on Ao3!

The dim light of the abandoned warehouse flickered, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. You shivered, a cold sweat creeping down your spine as you waited, heart pounding in your chest. The betrayal hung heavy in the air, a thick tension that made it hard to breathe.

Ransom Drysdale stepped into the light, his confident stride interrupted only by the slight crunch of glass underfoot. His eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, now glinted with a cold fury that sent chills through you. He was dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued since your decision to turn against him.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” he said, voice smooth but laced with venom. “I was starting to think you’d lost your nerve.”

“I—Ransom, please,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t supposed to go this far.”

He stepped closer, and you could see the tightening of his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “Not supposed to go this far? You thought selling me out to the authorities was just a casual suggestion?”

“I thought you’d understand—”

“Understand?!” He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed off the walls. “You think I’m some kind of fool? You were in this as deep as I was. I thought we were on the same team.”

You took a step back, the reality of the situation crashing over you. Ransom had always been unpredictable, but this was a new level of danger. “I didn’t want to betray you. I had no choice!”

“Everyone has a choice, sweetheart.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. “You chose wrong.”

You could feel the panic rising as he advanced. “Ransom, please! I can help you! We can still make this work!”

His expression hardened. “There’s no working this out. You’ve left me no option.” He pulled something from his pocket, and the glint of metal made your stomach drop.

“No! Ransom, don’t do this!” You pleaded, desperation spilling from your lips. “You can’t kill me. We have history! We—”

“History?” He scoffed. “You mean the history of your deceit? The countless times you acted like my partner while plotting my downfall? That’s the history I remember.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you fought them back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was scared.”

“Scared?” He stepped closer, the gun in his hand steady and unyielding. “You should’ve been scared when you decided to cross me. I gave you everything.”

“Ransom, think about what you’re doing! You’re making a mistake!” Your voice cracked, and you took another step back, hitting the wall behind you.

“No.” He shook his head, his gaze unwavering. “You’re the mistake. And now, I have to fix it.”

Time seemed to stretch as you both stood there, the weight of choices made heavy in the air. The reality of his intent settled like a lead blanket, and you realized he meant every word.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x ofc

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soelstress · 2 months ago

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Ambivalent Research

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader

Summary: Working with Ransom was never easy, so why did you think a joint research trip would be any different?

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language

A/N 1 - This is my first joint submission for @steviebbboi 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge and @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Sorry it's last minute!

A/N 2 - Prompts - - Enemies to lovers - "Slower, baby, I'm not going anywhere" - "We're both adults, we can share a bed for one night" - "Are you fucking kidding me?" - Withholding - getting scared during a horror movie

As a bonus, I asked Yenzy for two spins on the trick-or-treat wheel of potential doom... and for this one I chose the pillow fight!

A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - GIF taken from google but page was listed for @writemarvelousthings

A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The annoyed shout caused silence to fall as you stepped into the rustic lobby of the lodge. Optimistically, you had hoped that this trip would go smoothly… but of course nothing ever went to plan when he was involved, you thought with a disappointed sigh. “You’re fucking with me, right?” As you walked towards the check-in desk, you saw a staff member trying to apologize profusely to the person causing the ruckus. Any other person would probably see an exquisitely dressed, well groomed handsome man. All you saw was your boss Harlan Thrombey’s grandson, your fellow researcher and the biggest pain in your ass.

Don’t-call-me-Hugh ‘Ransom’ Drysdale. When Harlan had said that Ransom would be working with you to research for Harlan’s next few mystery novels, you were filled with dread. From information you’d gleaned, Ransom was considered to be the black sheep of the family, a trust fund prick as they so lovingly called him. When asked, Harlan admitted that Ransom never had a job, only having worked as his research assistant for a summer. It was agreed between you and Harlan that you would have seniority, something you were grateful for as Ransom had been a reluctant participant to start, doing minimal work except for when he took every opportunity to cause trouble for you. He was an arrogant, self important conceited jerk who you wanted to kill… until things reached a peak one day. When Ransom had complained once again about working, you had lost all patience and your filter. “Fine! If you’re happy to keep sponging off your grandfather’s legacy and just remain a Drysdale in the self imposed so-called shadow of your parents rather than make something of yourself by your own efforts, then stop wasting my time and go!” From that day, Ransom had committed to contributing as much as possible. His work ethic might have improved… but he still annoyed you whenever the chance arose.

You subtly jabbed his side upon reaching the desk which caused his glare to focus on you. “Oops! Excuse me, Mr Drysdale. What seems to be the problem?” You offered your name to the staff member, the name you saw from his tag was Paul, who quickly found yours and Ransom’s booking were for the same company.

Another member of staff appeared behind Paul, radiating authority and a zero tolerance for nonsense attitude. Now this was someone who commanded respect, unlike the entitled idiot next to you whose gaze would have you murdered a million times over if looks could kill. “As my colleague Paul already explained to Mr Drysdale, unfortunately the pipes in his suite have burst, rendering the room unusable. Due to other bookings and events being reserved prior to yours, there are no other rooms available for tonight. We have called other hotels in the area, and found another suite at - “

”At a hotel 45 minutes away” Ransom interrupted. “Look, I need to be here for work. I don’t think you realize how important this could be for you, so why don’t you - “

”Share my suite” Three gazes focused on you though your attention was on the one that could potentially - and almost certainly would - make things more difficult. “We can share a room for a night”. Part of your brain screamed in horror and rebellion at the thought of sharing a room with him, but the other part scrambled to minimize the damage the arrogant asshole could cause with his big mouth and even bigger ego. Ransom opened his mouth to argue but when you jabbed him again and raised a brow, he knew to shut up. Or rather his version of shutting up which was to grumble and whine as he stomped over to the elevators. Rolling your eyes, you offered a small smile to the two staff members. “I’m so sorry about him, he shouldn't have spoken to you that way”.

Paul smiled at you gratefully, the weight of the world seemed to have dropped from his shoulders. “We have been trained to deal with such situations ma’am”.

You shook your head. “Just because a customer is paying for a service doesn’t give them the right to speak to you like that. Again, I’m very sorry and will be mentioning how professionally you handled this to my boss”.

”Thank you ma’am. Of course the suite will be refunded and due to the inconvenience, dinner is complimentary”. You thanked them profusely and headed to the elevator where Ransom fidgeted impatiently.

“So when should I get that refund?” Ransom huffed, pushing the call button.

You eyed him incredulously, somehow still amazed by his ego. ”You realise that Harlan will receive the refund, seeing as he paid?” Before you both stepped into the elevator, you pulled out your phone to call your boss. Upon hearing his greeting, a smile graced your lips. “Hello Harlan”

”Ah good afternoon dear girl”. You could hear the formality being replaced with fondness, a rare occurrence from what you had observed of Harlan. “I trust you and my grandson arrived safely at the lodge?”

“Yes, though there is a slight change in plans”. Briefly, you informed him about the room being refunded and Ransom sharing a room with you instead of having to leave the area.

“Oh dear. I appreciate you being so accommodating, especially as I had wanted you both to specifically research the lodge and surrounding neighborhood for me. I must apologize in advance for my grandsons behaviour, as I know he seems to enjoy unnecessarily needling you”

”As long as I won’t be held accountable for any retaliation for the duration of this trip, short of bodily harm or murder”. You grinned as Harlan chuckled and Ransom gave you the side eye. You bid Harlan a good evening, ending the call.

”Retaliation huh? Now why would my dear Grandfather agree to that?” Ransom leaned back against the elevator wall. Your irritation flared at his casual arrogance.

“Because he knows you ‘enjoy unnecessarily needling’ me Drysdale, and yes those were his exact words”. Inhaling deeply, you stood straight and held your ground. “Being a researcher is challenging enough, but to work for one as renowned as Harlan Thrombey is the chance of a lifetime and I’d be a fool to let anything ruin the opportunity. Which is what I told him when I applied for the role. After my interview and a few months of working for him, he said that he appreciated my honesty and work ethic, but also recognised I have no patience for drama or bullshit - a good deal of which is found within his own family, much to his disappointment”. Every word you spoke was true, Harlan had said all of this to you. Though you had overheard the specifics about his family while he was speaking to his caregiver Marta but you had met all of them in the few years you worked for Harlan.

A dark brown arched. “Oh? And just what drama are you referring to?” With a ding, the elevator doors opened to your floor and Ransom hesitated before gesturing for you to move first. Finding your door a few strides down the corridor, you stopped and pulled the key card from your pocket. Opening the door, you waved for Ransom to precede you.

”Take your pick, from your parents to your Uncle Walt or Aunt Joni. They all have their own drama. Though I wonder about how Harlan would react to hearing how much damage his eldest grandson could have caused by opening his big mouth without thinking. Newsflash Drysdale - any dramas linked to Harlan Thrombey or Blood Like Wine would be damaging. Those are the two names paying your income… and the only names worth mentioning. I’ve been doing this job for some time, so I’ll make it easy for you - despite what you, your mother or father may say no one has ever heard the name Drysdale with recognition outside of your social circle”.

Ransom's face darkened at the mention of his immediate family. “Hey, don’t compare me to those two. I asked Grandfather to show me the ropes for this business, so I could decide if it was something I wanted to do myself. But if by some small chance Grandfather leaves the company to me and not that idiot Walt, I’ve no intention to say that I’ve done my own work from the ground up. I’d say it’s Grandfathers and I’m just continuing his legacy”. A chuckle from you had him frowning. “What?”

”I think hell just froze over because I agree with you”. And you did. It irritated you that Linda, Ransom’s mother and Harlan’s eldest child, claimed to have built her business from the ground up by herself when in actuality she had used Harlan's money. And her husband wasn’t much better, you saw Richard’s eyes wander when you visited Harlan at his estate. All of the family repulsed you, trying to constantly outdo one another whilst trying to impress Harlan. But hearing Ransom say that he would honour and continue Harlan’s legacy rather than try to claim it for his own softened you slightly.

Ransom had walked into the main area with a small seating area against the wall but a large king size bed dominated the space, facing beautiful views outside the windows. “You gotta be shitting me” he groaned, almost as if in pain.

When you saw the size of the couch, you knew that neither of you would be sleeping on it. It was soft and squashy looking, but more for sitting on than sleeping. Which really left you with one option. “For Gods’ sake. We’re both adults, we can share a bed for one night”. He glanced at you with an indecipherable look before sighing and stalking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Unsure whether to check on him after the look in his deep blue eyes, you hesitated. Oh yes, along with your annoyance of him came the reality that he really was a handsome bastard. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Dark hair swept off an angular face with soft pink lips and eyes to drown in, he really had won the genetic lottery. But his appearance aside, you had shared a few soft moments with him after the family gatherings he attended. Sometimes you would gently rub his back or pat his shoulder to ease the tension and resentment radiating off him. There were moments that you wanted to verbally comfort or reassure him, but after the brief physical contact he would pull away and annoy you before walking away. Part of you knew it was a defence mechanism, lashing out because it was all he knew. This time you decided to give him space.

After eating dinner and making a plan to explore the area the next day, you changed into your pajamas - a matching set of cotton shorts and tank top - and sat to watch a horror movie that you discovered had used the lodge you were currently staying at as a filming location. Harlan knew you were thorough in your research, so encouraged you to investigate any adaptations made to avoid plagiarism. You hated horror movies, much preferring a thriller or a mystery. But this was your job. As you sat watching, you hugged your pillow to your chest. Your heart began to pound watching the lead female edge into the dark room -

and jumped as something grabbed you. Reacting on instinct, you swung out with your pillow and walloped whatever it was that had grabbed you. Surprised and amused blue eyes met yours. “Seriously? You hit me… with a pillow?”

Embarrassment was chased away by irritation. “Seriously” you mimicked his voice with a scowl. “You decided to scare me while watching a horror movie? Real mature, Drysdale”.

“Pot, meet kettle” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and whacking you back.

It might have been immature, childish, just downright idiotic… but this man existed just to make your life a living hell. And you’d had reassurances from Harlan that any retribution this weekend would not be held accountable, So you decided the hell with it. And whacked him repeatedly with your pillow. Ransom was caught off guard for a moment before retaliating, making every effort to hit you with his pillow. At one point, you had stolen Ransom's pillow and struggled to keep hold of yours, Ransom in close proximity. Both your eyes locked as you panted, straining to win the pillow.

The next moment the pillow was thrown aside and you were under Ransom, grabbing desperately at his hair, his sweater - anything to bring him closer. Your mouths clashed in a heated battle for dominance, filled with teeth and tongue. One arm propped his torso up to keep his weight off you while the other slid around your waist and pulled you against him.

Once again your brain screamed at you - why the hell were you kissing Ransom Drysdale? More importantly, why the hell were you enjoying it so much? But your heart pounded loudly, drowning out your screaming thoughts and focusing on Ransom - how good his lips felt against yours, how smooth his hands felt gliding over your flesh, how he ground against you as desperately as you were to him. “Too many goddamn clothes” he hissed, yanking your top over your head and immediately latched his lips onto a nipple, fingers tweaking the other. Your back arched, pushing yourself closer to him. Desperate to feel his skin on yours you tugged at his sweater before he pulled back with a curse, almost ripping it off and tossing it aside before plunging his mouth to yours. His denim clad crotch ground against you, causing you to moan at the feel of his erection. Ransom pulled your shorts off, exposing you to him. His finger drifted up your thighs and across your folds before slowly sinking into your heat. He groaned against your lips, pushing in a few times before adding a second finger and curling them against your inner wall.

His fingers worked a steady rhythm inside you as his palm rubbed against your clit. You moaned when a wave of pressure began to slowly build, rising to crest through you… and you whimpered when his hand stopped moving altogether. Desperate for friction you tried to grind your hips against his hand but he pulled it away, raising his head to look at his wet fingers. “Hmm.. I think you could be a little wetter, dear girl” he crooned, lightly mocking Harlan's usual endearment. When a snarl started to leave your throat, his fingers returned to the previous rhythm and any fight left you. His lips glided from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and tasting your skin in time with his digits. The wave of pleasure built again, threatening to consume you and just as you tasted the first hint of release Ransom stopped again. You heard a soft chuckle which only fueled your frustration at being denied.

”Drysdale. So help me, if you don’t make me cum right now-” a soft brush over your clit briefly interrupted your threat. “I know a half a dozen ways to end you without weapons or toxins” your growl turned into a breathless whimper when he blew softly onto your pulsing heat. Looking down, you could see him watching you inches from where you needed him.

”Is one of those ways smothering me with this wet cunt?” Those blue eyes sparkled with wicked sensuality. “Then end me right now, baby”. Suddenly he licked firmly into your dripping folds, groaning deeply as the first drop hit his tongue which had you squirming from the vibrations. “Goddamn… you taste so fine, kitten”. He lapped away, humming as you began to grind against his face. The tension from your two prior denials built with a vengeance and in your desire, you gripped his hair and pulled him closer. His nose brushed against your clit and you cried out which he answered with a pleased hum as he firmly suckled on your clit.

”Fuck!” Pleasure coursed from head to toe, your mind solely focused on prolonging the feeling as long as possible. Once the tremors had stopped, you laid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Glancing to the side you saw Ransom facing you, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and that goddamn smug-sonofabitch-smirk etched on his face, lips glistening from your juices.

Suddenly filled with an urge to wipe the smirk off his face you moved to pull his jeans and boxers down, watching as his cock was freed. God, no wonder he walked around with that attitude. He was big, and for a moment you wondered how the hell it was meant to fit in you but you didn’t want to say it aloud and give him yet another ego boost. Scrambling to straddle him, you squirmed as his flesh rubbed between your folds. “Woah… slower, baby, I’m not going anywhere” Ransom chuckled which turned into a gasp when you squeezed him with your hands. Guiding his tip, you both moaned when it rubbed over your clit. Biting your lip you began to sink onto him. “Shit” he hissed, hands moving to grip your hips and control your descent. Moaning from the stretch you wriggled on him, unable to sit comfortably on his thighs. Cursing, he gently pushed you to lean back and you slid flush against him, the movement causing his cock to rub deeply within you. At your whimper, his eyes flashed to you. “You ok?”

Grinding against him, a small keen echoed through the room. “Feels so good… fuck… you’re so big”.

Hearing your voice crack on the last word, Ransom began to roll his hips watching as you lost yourself to pleasure. Head tipped back, chest heaving and hands grasping for something. Ransom bucked up into you and then groaned when your hands dug into his flesh. ”Oh… my kitten has claws” he whispered, relishing the sight of the red marks. Feeling you clench around him Ransom continued to buck into you, his hands gripping your hips. ”Fuck yes… you want my cum kitten? Gonna cream this sweet little pussy”. You moaned loudly at his words, his hands guiding you through deep strokes as your walls sucked at his throbbing cock insistently. Your body began to tremble with that oh-so-familiar heat and you clenched tightly around Ransom, suddenly terrified he was going to edge you again. “Not gonna stop, baby” he murmured, gasping as your body shook with pleasure. “That’s it kitten, squeeze me. I’m gonna cum so hard for you”. Suddenly he tugged you down to him for a deep kiss, groaning against your lips as he came deep within you.

Panting, you rested against Ransom’s chest and heard the gentle lub-dub of his heart. His fingers brushed cautiously against your cheek, cupping your face when you pushed further into his touch. He tensed and you worried that he was going to revert to his pattern of lashing out. You couldn’t handle that, not after this. You cared about him, somehow falling for him along the way despite the antagonism between you. “Please”. He looked down at you, worry lining his face. “Please don’t pull away, Ransom”.

Shaking his head, Ransom held you close. “I’m sorry baby, for being an asshole and making things difficult for you. Honestly, I just wanted you to notice me. But I’ve wanted more since you basically told me to grow some balls and make something of myself. You’re the first person apart from Grandfather to see something in me”. Ransom sighed heavily. “I’m a mess, kitten. Fuck, you’re more than familiar with the shit show that is my so-called family”. Your heart ached at the bitterness lacing his voice and moved your hand to rest on his chest. “I don’t know how to do this” he gestured between you before capturing your hand with his and pressing his lips to your palm. “But I want to try. For you. With you. I’m probably going to upset you and definitely annoy you… but I want to try and make you happy”.

“Like our research”. He cocked his head at your answer. “Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out”. At your soft giggle, his blue eyes sparkled. “Together. We’ll do it together”.

#hornyhoeshootenanny #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x you #chris evans characters

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intrepidacious · 25 days ago

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occupy my brain [3]

series summary: Being Harlan Thrombey’s research assistant would be the perfect summer job if it weren’t for his grandson.

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

chapter warnings: implied smut. ransom being very ransom (cranky asshole) and yet very not-ransom (smitten). side characters talking shit about reader. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: we've made it to the end of 2024, folks!! and what better way to celebrate than by finally continuing this fic that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got that first prompt request almost two years ago. since the first two chapters were mostly standalones, i'm thinking that most of the continuing ones will be as well. updates for this story are not going to be regular and probably won't follow the timeline chronologically either, but we'll see what next year will bring. either way, this is already way too long for an author's note, happy to have you along for the ride 🫶🏼

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

damage ensued

One thing was for certain: Hugh Ransom Drysdale had always taken great pride in not giving a damn about anyone but himself. So far, it had served him well.

That wasn't really a surprise. His family had been throwing money at every obstacle they came across for decades now; it'd be idiotic not to take advantage of that.

And Ransom was definitely not an idiot.

That’s why he'd soon stopped begging for everyone’s attention and instead made them listen. If that got him into trouble, why would he care?

A Thrombey was untouchable, even if he had a different surname.

Whenever life got too boring, he'd find a new way to keep his mind from wandering, from wondering; his brain was kept occupied at all times. That's how he liked it—sweet diversions filling the silent gaps in his life.

This was just what life was supposed to be, wasn't it? Absolutely no fucking problem in the world that couldn't be disappeared with a healthy serving of dough before he was left to his usual ways once again, mindless and sinfully enjoyable.

Except …

Except sometimes a thought did make it through the walls he'd built around the most vulnerable parts of himself, the parts of him he'd love nothing more than to forget about. An unbidden, uninvited thought that stabbed right through like a well-timed vicious whisper, slamming him out of whatever stupor he’d put himself other:

Is that really all?

Usually, that thought was easy to keep down. It was quiet, after all, and the world he liked to live in was loud and vibrant and perfectly distracting.

There was only one problem: You wouldn’t leave his mind.

Ever since that night that’d ended with you in his bed, traces of you lingered all over his house. An echo of the sounds you made when he was rutting into you. The memory of your eyes rolling back while you were sprawled out on his sheets. Images that, no matter how many times he jerked off to them, would not leave him the fuck alone.

It was ridiculous.

You were nothing more than an intern, for god’s sake. Easy on the eyes, sure; real damn easy. But just a girl. A random nobody with the most beautiful curves and the loveliest eyes he’d ever—

Jesus, there was something wrong with him.

That was how he found himself at the party of one of the friends he'd made by being rich and handsome, drowning out any reminder of you with too-loud music and another drink. He'd not gotten high in a while but maybe he should text his guy again; that was usually a surefire way to turn off any coherent, unwanted thought in his head.

For now, though, he couldn't be bothered to make the drive. Besides, he'd come here with one specific goal in mind: He had to get you out of his system once and for all, and do it fast. Judging by the past couple of days, that was the only way to get his life back to the way it used to be.

Replace the delicious memories by making new ones. Better ones.

Better. Faster. More.

Ransom took another swig from his beer. It really was such a drag that all the women at this party seemed terribly dull. Not that any of them had approached him; all his annoyingly persistent musings had put a scowl on his face, and that had been enough for most people to give him a wide berth. This was just great.

It was true what they said: If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. And what he wanted, no, what he needed right now was to be sucked into oblivion.

Just so that he wouldn't see your goddamn face every time he closed his eyes.

Later, he’d tell police that he’d been provoked and that none of this was his fucking fault, and as far as he was concerned, that was the truth. After all, he’d barely slept in days. He definitely wasn’t to blame for any of this.

In any event: Despite his earlier public session of self-pity seemingly giving him quite the disadvantage when it came to getting laid tonight, Ransom knew exactly how to turn on his charms in the right moment, and so it didn't take him too long to find a girl who was just pretty and willing enough to turn his night around. Even better, she didn’t look like you in the slightest; her voice was rough and she smelled like cigarette smoke and too-sweet apple cider, and her name disappeared from his mind as soon as it left her lips.

This was what it was supposed to be like, he thought as he grabbed her by the throat and pressed her against a nearby wall. Just a way to get his rocks off. He was just about to suggest moving things upstairs when his spine went rigid.

Someone behind him had just mentioned your name; your full name, so it couldn't be a coincidence, either.

Of course, that had nothing to do with him. He was busy right now.

But something about those guys talking about you rubbed him the wrong way and he couldn't help but continue to listen, even as he was still trying to stay blissfully distracted.

"—about me, the bitch, I mean, what the fuck," one of the voices said, followed by an echo of snickers and a petulant, "I know, right?"

That whiny little thought perked up again, and any attempt to smother it only resulted in him listening in on more of that conversation, despite his expressed indifference.

"—definitely sleeping with the professor—"

"—that stuck up nerd? Nah, she’s—"

"—honestly pathetic—"

Something hot and ugly was twisting in Ransom’s guts, and even know there was no rational reason for it, it had to do with the grating voices of those frat boys. Finally, though, he'd heard enough.

"Excuse me," he told the girl and not too gently removed her hands from his collar, not even sparing her a second glance as he turned and fixed his hair. Then, before he could think about it twice, he strode over to the group. "Who're you guys talking about?"

"This bitch in my microbiology class," one of them said, rolling his eyes. "You know her?"

"Do I look like I know her?" Ransom replied, and they all laughed as if that was a hilarious answer to a rhetorical question. God, he was surrounded by morons. With a tightlipped smile, he waited until Microbiology made eye contact with him again, mouth still parted in the same malicious grin, too drunk or too dumb to recognize the inexplicable ire he was staring at.

"Anyway."

And then he punched the guy in the face.

thank you to @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane for fixing my first sentence for me and thank YOU for reading 🧡 i don't have a tag list but if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

wishing you all a good 2025 and good riddance to last year. i'll see you on the other side 🫶🏼

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale series #knives out fanfiction #knives out fanfic #occupy my brain

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rainydayandmondays · 1 year ago

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It's Cold

Summary: Ransom wakes up to a chilly, fall morning with nothing to really combat the cold he feels. It doesn’t help that Jake has you hogged across the bed to himself.

Pairing: Jake Jensen X Reader, Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, fingering (women receiving), creampie.

Author's note: It's been a while since I've written anything for a fandom. We'll see how this goes 🤷🏾‍♀️

Chapter 1 in All is Well series written with @buckybarnesisdaddy and @theinheriteddutchess.

Early November

Waking to soft puffs of air on the back of your neck, you’re aware of the bear hug hold that Jake has on you. He’s worn his favorite Stars Wars t-shirt and boxer briefs to bed. But they do little against the fall morning. The temperatures had just started changing and even though outside was no autumn landscape, the cooler air of last night had caught you by surprise. Jake pulled you tight to the curve of his body, greedily soaking up any body heat that radiates off you. He was a covers hog as much as he was a cuddler. And while most times he preferred being the big spoon, there were nights that he curled into you. Your arms did little to reach across his broad chest and left you circling his trim waist. He liked those nights, your hands always seemed to wander down in your sleep. In the morning, he would wake to your hand tucked just under his waistband. His dick somehow knew it was you and reached out for the tips of your fingers. Like it knew it belonged there.

As Jake continues to snore into the crook of your neck, you blink away the sleep to see your other companion. Ransom Drysdale was a new addition. Where Jake was nothing but ready to please, his golden retriever energy taking over most of his personality, Ransom was like one of those temperamental Bengal cats. It’s leopard coat just flashy enough to catch anyone’s attention. But those paws always ready to swat away at anyone who had the gall to get too close. He did things on his terms, living to be contrary to everything and everyone. He had fought you, ready to prove that he didn’t need anyone, especially not you. The others had tried to get to know him and all had quickly been caught on the wrong side of his harsh tongue and haughty expression. It was Jake, his complete opposite, that had brought him around. More specifically, the way that Jake was with you. Jake didn’t care how he looked tagging along behind you. He didn’t care how small he looked letting you be the big spoon. And the way you called him Jakey. Were you trying to infantilize him? Even now, Jake had so wholly wrapped himself around you, you would think that he thought you would vanish from his bare hands.

Ransom had woken up before either of you. The cold nipped at his body. He always preferred sleeping in the nude. However, you made him promise to at least wear underwear when all three of you were together. Most nights he would come to bed with your required attire, only to slip them off and kick them to the bottom of the bed. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved the squeak of surprise you would give if you rolled into him during the night. He wasn’t ashamed of what he had to offer, never had any complaints. But there was something extra special about you finding him and his little friend in the night. The fact that he disobeyed made it all the better.

But now he lay there, the cool of the room getting to him and you across the bed snuggled into Jake. He frowned as he watched the two of you peacefully laying together. He wasn’t jealous in the slightest. Never could be. It was cold, just cold. Jake’s snoring wasn’t helping either. He stared at you, daring you to wake up. You couldn’t be that comfortable. Reaching up, he drew a line down the side of your face. His fingers tingled from the warmth of your cheek. You had to feel that. You twitched slightly, letting a little moan slip out. That got his attention and he twitched himself, all be it a little lower. He reached out again, this time going down and then up your cheek. That did it.

You caught Ransom quickly lowering his hand beneath the blankets. The outline of his profile in your direct eyeline. You watched as he pretended to sleep.

“Ran?” You whisper his name, careful not to wake the IT expert behind you. You reach out to lay a hand on his bare chest. Ransom always liked to complain about the cold. Except for sleeping, he was always wrapped in some kind of sweater. Wooly, cable knight, it didn’t matter. Feeling his skin, you feel the coolness of his chest. That cool touch you felt is starting to make more and more sense.

“Ransom?” Hearing his full name causes the corner of him mouth to twitch. Smug bastard was going to be difficult this morning.

Rolling towards Jake, you ignore the small huff leave Ransom.

“Jakey?” Reaching out to put a hand against Jake’s cheek, you feel him pull you closer, his legs locking with yours.

The small moan he lets out as you start to follow the lines of his sideburns, let’s you know that at least one of them would listen to you this morning.

“Jakey, wake up.” Your second call to him has his eyes fluttering open. You see as he tries to focus in on your face without his glasses. Once he zeroes in on your soft smile, he sighs softly, leaning in to give you a small peck.

“Morning precious,” you smile at the nickname. After making the mistake of letting him know how you never really got The Lord of Rings, he set out to show you the entire trilogy over the span of a holiday weekend. By the second movie, he had taken to quietly mouthing Gollum’s lines. When calling him out on it, he turned to you and whispered “My precious.” The nickname had stuck ever since.

“Can you go see if Bucky’s made breakfast?” You watch as his forehead creases. The three of you are usually the last to the breakfast table each morning. The sun was barely breaking its way through the curtains. It couldn’t be time to go down just yet.

Staring down at you, he goes to question your request until he sees Ransom shift behind you. The way he subtly inches towards you, feigning sleep while his mouth inches into a slight smirk. Jake looks back to you, seeing your eyes silently pleading that he understand.

Jake understood. He always did. Your arrangement maybe different from societal norms, but when had he ever worried about that. When you found him bent down picking up small baggies of orange slices outside of his niece’s soccer game, you hadn’t judge him. Just smiled down at him and helped get the remaining bags into his backpack. Even after months of dating when he let you know about his real job, not the fake corporate IT one that he told everyone, you had just smiled. He moved into the house shortly after and readily took on the role of your person. There were others in the house, but he was yours.

When Ransom entered the picture, he saw how hard he fought everyone. It was going to take time for him to trust and be trusted. Jake pitied him. He just needed someone to not judge him. You, who hadn’t judged all his dorky attributes, laughed at his awkward jokes, and didn’t run after learning about his elite task force, you could help Ransom. Lying in bed a few months into Ransom being here, he suggested that he move to your room. And as before, you just smiled up at him.

“Okay,” Jake nodded leaving you with a longer morning kiss this time.

Watching Jake grab his hoodie off the back of his desk chair and hustle out the room, you turn back to Ransom. This time you find him facing you, eyes staring down at you, the smirk full blown.

“It’s cold,” at his remark, you give him your own smirk and scoot over to snuggle into his chest. Ransom would never ask specifically to be held. He didn’t need that. Two people embracing without it leading to fucking. What was the point of that? He just needed you to get close enough and his little friend should be able to take over.

Moving closer to him, you quickly gasp as you figure out just why he’s so cold. Little bastard broke the rules again. Looking up at him, you see his tongue quickly jut out to lick his bottom lip, “What’s wrong, princess?”

You shake your head at him, bowing it to fit beneath his chin. You’re not sure where the nickname came from. Knowing Ransom, it was to either get under Jake’s skin with a term of endearment too close to his for you. Or he probably thought he was being smart by playing off the fact that when it came to this room, you were in charge.

Feeling you breathe against his collarbone, Ransom runs his hand down your thigh, grabbing just under your knee. Hiking it over his hip, he leans into you. Fuck this cuddling.

“Ran,” you chastised him as he griped your hip and began palming your ass cheek.

“It’s. Cold,” he punctuated each word, moving your hips closer and causing your breath to hitch. The heat from you radiating through your underwear, giving him just a taste of what your warmth felt like. If only he could maneuver the both of you just right, he knew he could slip in. He was confident you would be ready for him.

“What do you need, Ran?” His eyes snapped down towards you. So concentrated in pressing you against him, he hadn’t noticed you staring at him. He hated this question. What could he possibly need? You always did this. Tried to reduce him to some needy little thing. You had Jake the puppy to be that for you. He was Ransom Drysdale for fuck’s sake. If anything, you should be needing him. You did need him, he could tell you that you needed him in your pebbled nipples he could feel through your nightshirt and your thigh tightening around him.

“I need you to stop being a bitch so we can fuck,” he growled down at you.

Your answer was instant, as you quickly untangled yourself from his grasp and started to roll towards the other end of the bed. You don’t get to roll away. Not from him. His hand shot to your wrist pulling you back. You looked at him incredulously, body tight, as the corners of your mouth pinched in. He could tell he fucked up. But what’s it to him. If anything, he could go find one of the others and have them bounce on his cock for him. He didn’t need you. He didn’t need anyone.

He stared back at you, willing you to break first from this Mexican standoff. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That should do the trick. You hated his smirk, knowing he only did it because he’s an asshole. You would throw him out of the room, send him downstairs to think about what he said. Any second now, you would yell at him to get out.

Looking at Ransom, purposely wearing that smirk, you see his eyes flicker down in almost regret. It’s a split second, if anything, and he quickly recovers his smug mask. You sigh, knowing that he was a spoiled brat. But only because he had learned that was only way to get attention. Ransom needed attention, constant attention. For him, your attention meant you cared, and if you cared, maybe you could like him. If you liked him, maybe you could comfort him. If you comforted him, maybe he could feel loved.

The tension leaves your body and you relax back down next to him. With your wrist still in his hand, he doesn’t notice your other hand reach under the covers. Sure that he has won, his smirk falls into a true smile until he feels you grab onto him. It’s not your first time handling him, you know how to tight to squeeze and where to rub. You slide up and down, giving him a few languid strokes before using the type of your fingernail to gently scratch along the head. His body’s response is immediate. A low groan leaving his throat, as he dribbles onto your fingers.

“Is this what you need, Ran?” Exhaling harshly through his nose, he bites down on his tongue to stop from answering. Gazing up at him, you stroke him a bit more, running her fingernail along the vein on the underside of him. You notice the tick in his jaw as he bares down, refusing to admit to needing this. Your shirt having ridden up, you trap him between his pelvis and your tummy. Rubbing him along your soft belly, he slides easily as he continues to drip onto you.

Jolting at the sensation of your skin against him, he tightens his grasp on your wrist still trapped between your torsos. Peeking up at him, you catch his blown pupils gazing down at you. You let a quick smile go just to push his buttons that bit more. He answers by grabbing onto your leg, hiking it back over his hip. His hand inches over your ass before disappearing under the edge of your underwear.

The slick his fingers encounter quickly coats them and he runs his index and middle over your lips. He could feel them getting puffy, imagining how they looked cushioning his two fingers. He slid them back and forth, just nudging at your little hood that was just starting to pull back. One more pass and he shoves them into you. You audibly gasp into his neck and he just watches you, dazed at you crumbling under him. Your own hand continues to press him against your tummy, encouraging him to rut onto you.

“Stop,” your response is strong given your labored breathing. He stops the glide of his fingers but gives one final tap to that spongey spot that always leaves you humming. You glare at him as you untangle your wrist from his hold to push him onto his back.

Swinging your leg over his hips, you straddle him as his hands on your thighs steady you. Pushing you your underwear to the side, you hold him in place as you lower onto him. His fingers dig into your hips as you drop. There’s that warmth he needed.

Fully seated, you lean forward placing your forehead against his. He was sure you were going in for a kiss. If you needed a kiss, he figured he could give you that. He mouth parts, waiting for your move, only for you to whisper against his lips, “Fuck your princess.”

Well, fuck him if that didn’t make something in his head switch on. He brought up his legs, using the purchase the bed gave his feet and started pumping into you. You bounced atop him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The needy little moans spilling out of you and onto his lips, as your fingers tangled into his hair. He could feel you clenching around him and he knew he had you. Reaching a hand over, he rubbed at that little pearl, tapping at it on every downstroke. You finally broke with a choked yelp and he felt your vice grip surround him.

“Take it. Take it,” he babbles as your walls flutter around him, urging his balls to pull up, and let go. He heard your little squeak as he held you to him, shooting what had to be a week’s worth of cum. He feels you kiss him as he pumps into you. He knew you needed that. As he came down, you milked him a couple of times, squeezing gently as you laid on his chest.

Rolling off of him, you turn to him, his eyes closed and his breathing quieting.

“Still cold?” He chuckles at your question, licking his lips and turning towards you.

“It wouldn’t be such a problem, if your other one didn’t insist on hogging the covers.” Sighing, you read his comment for what it is. Ransom would never ask to be held. Ransom doesn’t need you.

“It’s not that you’re cold. You’re actually hot. You’re a furnace. You don’t retain heat, you radiate it.” He smirks at your analysis, readying a smart comeback, you cut him off, “Go take a shower.”

He snickers before sitting up and searching for his underwear that’s bunched at the bottom of the bed. Purposely bending in front of you to bring his boxer briefs up, he makes sure you get a show of it. He knew you needed that.

Opening the bedroom door, you hear him remark, “You can go in now, puppy.”

“Ran,” you scolded him, to which he holds his hands up and walks out.

Grabbing the duvet from the edge of the bed, you see Jake come in with a mug of what hopefully is Bucky’s freshly brewed coffee.

“Okay to come back in?” You nod at his question as he nudges the door close with his foot, before approaching you with a Yoda mug.

“Bucky is still working on breakfast. It’s French toast day. He was still dipping the toast in egg when I went down, so the coffee wasn’t ready yet. But he walked me through the whole process.” You smiled at Jake as he rambles. More than likely he’s already had his morning cup waiting to return to bed. Accepting the mug, you take a few snips before putting it down on the nightstand.

“Come back to bed,” Lifting the duvet, you reach for Jake. He doesn’t need to be told twice. Hurrying to his side of the bed, he whips his hoodie off and throws it towards his desk. Climbing in behind you, he’s quick to pull you against him. Griping your waist, he slips his hand into the front of your underwear. Hooking his hand around you, he feels your swollen lips and the stickiness of Ransom slowly leaking out of you.

“He left her here like this. She’s all puffy, but still needs something to fill her. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” you whimper as he gathers the little spend that has leaked out and pushes it back into you with his fingers.

Relaxing behind you, he leaves smalls kisses onto the nape of your neck. His fingers still inside you, sporadically tapping at your sweet spot.

“I love you, Jakey,” you whisper, as you begin to nod off to sleep.

Jake smiles behind you, tugging you closer, “My precious.”

@theinheriteddutchess, @buckybarnesisdaddy, @sarahdonald87

#jake jensen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #jake jensen #ransom drysdale #basement harem #the losers (2010)#knives out #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut

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howdoyousleep3 · 3 months ago

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Prompt: Mommy Kink

Pairing: Female Reader x Randsom Drysdale Word Count: ~7K Tags: age difference, dom/sub relationship, alcohol use (light), porn with little/hidden plot, porn with little angst, mommy kink, nipple play, shower sex, praise kink, exhibitionism, dirty talk, topping from the bottom, multiple orgasms, edging, fluff Author's Note: This has become a fic I've been dying to wash my hands of; it's been in my life and WIP folder for far too long. I hope it doesn't read that way and I hope you can enjoy it. ❤️

As soon as you close the door to your apartment behind you, you know Ransom is here.

You’ve stopped questioning how he gets into your home.

Based on the subtle tells littered all throughout your apartment, his mood is not a positive one. You know that without needing these signs from the slow walk through your kitchen and towards the living room; he doesn’t visit you when he is cheery. Cabinet door open, tequila bottle left uncorked, his coat draped along the back of your couch; he’s feeling quite brazen tonight. And he’s been drinking.

You remind yourself of the importance of patience.

You make no rush to find out where he is even though you have a sneaking suspicion that he’s somewhere in your bedroom. You can see him thinking that being in your most private of spaces will unnerve you, but it’s the most telling of all; a bedroom is the most intimate space in a home.

You pour yourself two fingers worth of tequila, skip the ice, and place the bottle back into the cabinet. You leave your purse on the kitchen island.

The sound of your heels dances across the darkened walls of your apartment as you make your way to your bedroom. Your shin-length skirt flutters around you at a shared languid pace. You take your time turning off lights and ensuring the apartment is as it should be along your way, sipping on the golden liquid as you go. You gently pull the neck scarf from around the hollow of your throat, removing your hair clip and letting your locks tumble down over your shoulders.

You softly smile to yourself as you unbutton your shirt enough to where the delicate lace of your bra is visible. There’s no doubt his eyes will be on your breasts in an instant. Good.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but him sitting in your bed, back against the headboard, your current read in his lap is not it.

He sits in your room with only the dim light of your bedside lamp. You wonder if he realizes it’s terribly domestic. Your steps cease to falter though, not wanting to show him one ounce of surprise as you make your way to your dresser. By the time you’ve set your tumbler on your dresser and removed your watch from your wrist, he still has not spoken to you. You choose to break the silence.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you murmur, reaching for the backs of your earrings as you remove them, turning to look at him as you do so.

Your heart nearly stops.

Immediately, you want to push and ask him what’s happened, his split lip and fresh bruise on his cheek pulling at your heart, but you know if you rush him, he’ll run. He’s still as gorgeous as ever though, his sharp clean jaw and an even sharper set of eyes. From across the room, they’re dark, but up close you know they’re beautifully haunted and bright with mischief.

In his cable knit sweater and his socked feet, his hair unruly and boyish, the sight feels like a vice around your heart.

He’s beautiful.

He’s also a brat.

Your favorite.

He merely watches you as you place your earrings in the tray on your dresser, placing the clip and neck scarf in their appropriate places as well. You pull your stocking-clad feet from your heels, sighing as you stretch your arches out and make your way across the room to your closet. When you reamerge you break the silence again.

“Did you have a good day?”

Not a question of why he’s here or what led to him being on the receiving end of such physical violence that then resulted in the marks on his face. It’s a simple inquiry, but you aren’t surprised by the venom in his tone.

“What the fuck do you care?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care, you know this.” Your tone is gentle, soft, as you reach for the zipper of your skirt and try again. “Did you have a good day?”

His eyes are on your body as your skirt drops to the floor. They feel like a physical touch, a heavy one. Even broken and furious he still manages to fill this space with intensely sexual energy and your body, fragile from your own long day, reacts immediately. You ignore said reaction as best you can, but you’re sure your hardened nipples are visible through your shirt as you bend to reach for your skirt.

“I didn’t come here to talk about my day,” he tells you, tone sharp and mocking.

“Oh? And why did you come here?”

He doesn’t miss a beat.

“I came here to fuck you.”

You in turn do not miss a beat either.

“Oh, sugar— that’s not quite the truth, is it?”

You don’t wait for an answer, turning and making your way back into your closet. As you remove your shirt the decision of what Ransom needs comes to you easily. When he comes to you in a mood like this you rarely have to break him down any further; he comes to you ready to be pieced back together again. Rarely do you see this side of him, this pushy, needy side of him that needs a gentle yet implacable hand.

You leave your stockings, bra, and panties on and return to the bedroom, reaching for your glass along the way back to your bed.

“Finish your drink,” you tell him, gesturing with your own glass to his on the bedside table. You take a slow sip of your tequila, relishing the burn that slips down your throat. He doesn’t make a move towards his glass and juts his chin out in blatant defiance.

“You’re not going to waste a drop of my good tequila, Ransom Drysdale. Finish it.”

You’re surprised and simultaneously relieved when he waits a few seconds and slowly reaches for his glass. Maybe it was your stern tone. He locks eyes with you as he tosses the rest of the tequila back quickly and you make the active decision to not reprimand him for not savoring this finely aged liquor.

You finish off your two fingers not long after he does, maintaining eye contact as you do so, and when you’ve both swallowed the last of it down, your belly is more than warm.

You skipped dinner, didn’t you?

Damn.

You take a few more steps towards him and hand him your glass. He only hesitates a few seconds before he reaches for it.

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, turning and heading into your bathroom, your stockings muffling your footsteps as you walk. You reach for the lights, turning on the dimmest setting, then head to the walk-in shower. You turn that on as well, the above rain shower head as well as the jets of water coming out of the wall. You place two of your largest and fluffiest towels on the bench just out of reach of the spray of water.

You stop in the doorway of the bathroom, cock your hip and make yourself look as seductive as possible. You bite back your grin when you see that both glasses are out of sight. Good boy.

“Shower with me.”

The way he gazes at you and your body almost makes you shiver. It’s fond and it’s hungry, the attitude he came here with deteriorating with each passing minute. This is why he came to you— to be loved on. You’re not quite sure how you became this person to him, what led to him clinging to you and reaching for you, but you’ve not once been uninterested. The opposite in fact; you take this cherished role very seriously.

The last of the fight Ransom wants to put up is terribly visible on his face, the younger man as transparent as always. The way his eyes roam your body feels like a physical touch: down your torso, over your thighs, between your legs. You feel your panties grow damp in an instant, especially when he rises to his feet and reaches for the hem of his sweater. You don’t move from your spot in the doorway, watching on as he strips himself first of his sweater and then his undershirt, your heart kicking up into your throat once he’s bare chested, somehow soft yet hard all over.

He’s quite literally breathtaking.

You try your hardest to minimize the rise and fall of your chest as you watch him remove his pants, but you’re certain your neck is flushed and giving you away in an instant. Your panties are ruined, your nipples are more than visible through the thin lining of your bra. There’s no way your face isn’t giving your hunger away either, your eyelids heavy as he kicks his pants a few feet in front of himself, directly in front of you.

It’s as if he’s taunting you, testing you in order to see the direction the two of you are headed in for the night.

He knows you won’t tolerate such a move.

You have no choice but to square up with him, and you do so with a dramatic look down at Ransom’s pants on the floor and back up at his face. You’re impressed with yourself when your eyes manage to not linger or even pause on the impressive and familiar bulge between his legs, the dark material of his briefs straining to conceal his erection. The look you are met with is casually challenging, as if he wants you to push back and to do so hard.

You don’t waste any time. You give him exactly what he’s here for—

“Mama doesn’t like a mess, sweetheart. You know that.”

The effect of your words is instantaneous. You can practically see your sentence slipping over his shoulders and down his spine, his eyelids fluttering as he swallows quite audibly. And for a moment, he looks vulnerable, fragile even. It breaks your heart, shatters it, brings light to your importance in this role and in his life. You anticipate him fighting you a bit more, which is why you have to put effort into schooling your features when he steps forward and reaches for his discarded pants.

Oh, baby…

Folding his pants, he places them into the chair to your right and then reaches for his shirts as well. Once his clothes are in a neat stack and he’s left standing in front of you, close enough to force you to tip your head back to look up at him, you want to toss your plan to the side and snuggle Ransom to sleep and not wake up for days.

But he’s here for a reason.

“Good boy,” you purr, voice husky as you reign in your eagerness. His lips part when your fingers reach for his cock, circling what you can around the fabric of his briefs. He’s harder than stone under your grip. You can swear you feel him throb there in your hand as you hold onto him, squeezing him. The weight of him, the girth of him, makes your pussy ache, makes you wish you had something to clench around. Your pussy wants him.

Down girl.

“Such a big boy,” you whisper anyway, testing the limits of what is and is not acceptable for the night. Ransom responds beautifully, eyelids drooping a bit alongside his jaw as you tug at his erection, stroking him off slowly through his underwear. It’s a selfish move, one just for you to indulge in, and he lets you with a hitch in his breath.

Christ, he’s beautiful. You want more of him.

“Is this for me?” you whisper on his lips with a squeeze at his cock, Ransom bending down to meet the tip of your chin. If your mouths weren’t nearly touching you’d miss his gentle and hesitant murmur of “...yes.” He knows what you want to hear but you know he cannot be pushed into indulging in your dynamic; he has to reach that point on his own terms.

That fact doesn't stop you from giving him a nudge though.

“You sweet boy. All for me?”

You tug on the waistband of his briefs, pull it past the tip of his erection, exposing it. You hear the beginnings of a groan he manages to bite back.

“For you.”

“For who?”

You can see the word on the tip of his tongue, his hesitation palpable. You run your thumb along his cockhead, purse your lips around his plump bottom lip in encouragement. You reach for his hand with your free one, help him wrap his trembling fingers around the skin of your neck hoping the gesture will bring him comfort, will ground him.

“For who, sweetheart?”

He swallows loudly.

“For…for Mama...”

Yes.

You know your eagerness could scare him away in an instant, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a shaky noise, one that blurs the line between a purr and a groan. There are few things in this world sweeter than Ransom giving into his desires and letting you take care of him in the way only you could. It’s more than a word, it’s more than a misunderstood kink; it’s what this sweet boy needs from you and you’re more than happy to provide.

You want to give him everything in this moment, want to start by bending down and suckling on his pretty cockhead, but you reel yourself in just enough to whisper, “Can you take the rest of my clothes off, baby? Please?”

His hands are immediately on your thighs. His touch is rough with eagerness, the tremble in his capable hands obvious, a flush growing on his chest. He drops to his knees then, leans forward and presses his lips along the inside of your thigh as he works one stocking down your leg, peppering it with little kisses, first one and then the other.

He never gives in this easily. He never becomes your sweet boy without more of a fight.

He must need you tonight.

The sight and sensation of him kneeling before you does wicked things to your head. With your stockings removed from your legs, he moves up and reaches for your hips with both hands, fingers curling around the meat of them. He kisses over your panties, over your mound, unabashedly inhaling before he’s tugging on the waistband of your silky panties. When you step out of them, one leg at a time, your hands fall easily to his head, fingers slipping through his normally gelled locks. The gentle touch has him exhaling roughly into your belly.

His urge to put his mouth on you is damn near palpable and fuck, your pussy can feel it too.

You almost say something, chastise him for so obviously warring over his distracting thoughts and urges, when you feel his fingers run up your backside. He finds the clasp of your bra quickly and he expertly flicks it open even quicker, easing the straps down your shoulders until it too joins your other undergarments on the floor. Your breasts ache, nipples pebbled tightly and begging for a warm mouth.

This time Ransom gives into his urges, nuzzling at the curve of your breast, rubbing his cheek into it as he sighs. The need to guide his head, to coo as he suckles, almost does you in.

Instead you take a step back.

“Shower, sweetheart…”

You turn and leave him to follow after you. Pride thrums through your body over the fact that you’ve stayed strong so far, that you have given Ransom what he needs. He doesn’t need someone he can persuade or bend to his will, doesn’t need someone that will give into him easily. He needs steady, he needs calm. He needs structure and love, needs to be soothed and doted on. He needs to be told no.

You had assumed the steam of the shower and the scorching temperature of the water would bring you clarity, but it seems to do the exact opposite; it makes your need for him grow infinitely. As you begin to remove your makeup and wash your face as causally as you can, your eyes drink him in slowly and luxuriously, his body entirely bare as he seems to saunter into the shower, almost predatorily.

His eyes are on your body as well, something you would know even if you weren’t looking right at him, the path his eyes take feeling like the lick of a flame. You aren’t intimidated by the glint in his eyes or the curl of his lips; you know his looks are deceiving. His reputation is upheld by his looks, his sharpness, but at this point you know better than to believe there isn’t an abundance of softness underneath his facade.

When you turn to wet your hair under the stream of water, hot water running down your already heated form, your front presses deliciously against his own. His heavy cock presses tightly against your stomach and your clit throbs at the slick feel of it against your skin. His energy is anything but calm, both of his hands coming up to frame the base of your throat, tightening them briefly before he bats your hands away and replaces them in your hair.

You don’t react in the slightest to his gestures, eyes locking with his through the rising steam. Trust is a pillar in your relationship, whatever this is. He’d never hurt you, unless that’s something you asked for.

The intimacy of this shared shower is not lost on you.

As you tip your head back and look him over, your eyes are immediately drawn to his lip and his cheek, the respective cut and bruise.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” you ask gently as he reaches for your shampoo, your hands landing easily on his hips. Once they’re there you let them wander easily and greedily, squeezing and sliding them up his sides, down and around to his ass, up his back. Carved from marble, he has to be. His answer is what you expect, a short, “No,” in addition to your name. Just because it’s what you expect doesn’t mean it doesn’t disappoint you. You know little about his family, even littler about his job, his endeavors, but you know he is surely undeserving of physical violence.

His hands in your hair feel like absolute heaven. When you envisioned the end of your day and this shower it was without him, but even then you were looking forward to it. The addition of Ransom is a delight. His capable fingers work wonders on your scalp as he thoroughly works the shampoo through your hair and you can’t help but moan and let your eyelids fall closed. His trapped cock twitches as each noise falls from your lips, each movement sending a wave of arousal to your core.

When he rinses the shampoo from your hair, tipping your head back to meet the stream of water with a hand on your neck, you reach for his cock.

His gasp is so pretty, almost as pretty as your handful.

“Mama’s missed you,” you tell him as he rids your hair of shampoo, leaning into his hold on your throat as he pulls you towards him with the same grip. His lips land on your temple as you take your time feeling him, unabashedly groping at him. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to visit me.”

He doesn’t answer, but he does let out his first unreserved noise of the evening, a groan of an exhale that sounds almost painful. You grin into his chest as you bring your other hand down to hold onto his balls, cupping the heavy pair, rolling them. He ruts against your front, your hold on him, does what he can to thrust into your fist. You openly ignore his efforts, taking your time to enjoy the weighty feel of him in your hands, giving yourself a moment to be greedy, to imagine what this will feel like inside of you soon.

The insides of your thighs are slick and it has nothing to do with the stream of the shower.

One more soft and urgent noise from him has you humming, pinching the tip of his cock softly.

“You tell me when you’re close, remember?”

You’re far too pleased when there is little hesitation as he answers very quietly, “Y-yes, Mama.” You give his sac a slow tug.

“Are you close?”

You know he is. You always know when he is about to come. His stomach draws tight, his breathing stutters, his lips part and his eyelids grow heavy. It’s obvious, yet he shakes his head, attempts to fuck into your grip. Greedy boy. You know you should be disappointed, but you find that you’re more thrilled than anything else. You fist his erection and pump him vigorously in your grip, his bitten, “Fuck,” dropping right to your clit.

“No? You aren’t close?”

You’re stroking him exactly how he likes, long strokes with a squeeze of your closed fist at the tip, your other hand holding on tightly to his balls. He whines in response, shakes his head and dipping it down so he can press a sucking kiss to the corner of your mouth. How sweet.

“Liar,” you whisper against his jaw, digging your teeth into it as you drop both of your hands at once. You push him back by a hand in the middle of his flushed chest. You’re tempted to drop to your knees and selfishly suck him off when you get eyes on his hard and angry cock, but the build is so good. You know waiting will be what he needs and what you want.

“Sit down,” you tell him, gesturing towards the built-in bench at the end of the shower as you reach for your conditioner. “Mama needs to finish washing her hair and then needs to wash her body. You can’t be trusted.” He doesn’t look hurt at your words, just mischievous as ever. If anything, regret flashes in his eyes briefly before a cocky, hungry look takes its place and he leans back into the bench, spreading himself out in an intimidating manner.

You’re always weak for a manspread, for the way he can send his limbs out in a way that makes him appear even larger than he already is. He knows your weakness. You bite the inside of your lip at his obvious and defiant demeanor.

You take your time distributing the conditioner through your hair, winding it into a low bun once it saturates the strands as you want it to. You won’t let this man, any man, take away from your self care. When you reach for your loofah and luxurious soap you feel the weight of his eyes on you and you feel your inner vixen slip through your veins and down your spine.

His eyes on you are your guilty pleasure, your ultimate weakness. The attention he gives you, this special form of attention, is the foundation of your relationship. He looks to you when there is no one else to turn to. He looks to you when he needs comfort that is meaningful and deep, erotic and pleasurable.

So, his eyes on you make you intoxicated with power, such a unique form of feminine power. You lean into that sensation as you move your loofah across your body, sudsing it up as you make swipe after swipe over your skin. You’re taking care of yourself, showing yourself gratitude and love, but it’s also a show for him. Where you squeeze, where your touch lingers, when you bend your body— it’s all for him.

But you’re not immune to the way your touches and his gaze combined makes you feel.

Ransom just about cracks when you turn away from him and bend at the waist, unnecessarily reaching down for your feet. The view has to be sublime. You’re so aroused by the situation that has unfolded before you this evening, turned on by the touches of your little display, that you can feel how swollen your pussy is. Bent over, you reach between your legs with a free hand and give into the urge to rub at yourself, fingers slipping against your clit, dipping between your folds.

His whine is barely detectable, bitten off and swallowed, but it’s there, you hear it. And it’s just as sweet a victory to you as a climax is.

You’re impressed with yourself at the strength it takes to stand back up just out of reach of the spray of water, turning to face where Ransom sits on the bench. That is when you bring the loofah to your chest, slowly and unnecessarily rubbing it over the heavy curve of your breasts. The ache of the tightness of your nipples as you touch yourself forces your exhale to sound more like a whimper and you drop the loofah to indulge, both for yourself and Ransom.

You squeeze your breasts together, the soap causing them to slip and smush together lewdly, and you enjoy it immensely as you pinch at both of your nipples.

You let out a happy, throaty noise and do it all again.

“Mama,” Ransom bites out, his tone daring to sound more like a warning than a plea. His look is one of warning as well, a stern look you’re sure he gives others and watches them crumble. But not you; you never crumble.

He knows better than to try it on you. But he sure is a tempting sight, one plucked right out of one of your wettest of dreams. You’ve stood in this exact spot in your shower before, wishing he was sitting just as he is now, cock hard and eyes dark. His body, bare and wet and so big, makes you feel as if you could easily lose your footing in your normally rock solid feminine dominance.

But that’s not what gets the both of you off, together.

So, you continue to squeeze and fondle and pinch at your breasts, letting breathy noises fall from your lips. There are many weaknesses he holds for you, but this one just might take the cake. He loves your breasts, adores them even. He gets easily distracted by them, wants to hold them, wants his mouth on them. And when he’s most vulnerable, when he himself would consider him to be at his weakest, he wants to suckle on you, wants your nipples in his mouth as he whines and squeezes for more.

His brazen display of entering your home without your permission, demanding sex from you, and warning you to not touch yourself is fresh in your mind as you pout, “They’re just so heavy and achy, baby.”

You move to step back under the stream of water, cupping your breasts with both hands and squeezing at your handfuls, waiting for the water to do its job of rinsing the soap from your body. You then work the conditioner out of your hair, eyes locked onto him as you do so.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he does his best to conceal the way he pants for you, his cock heavy and achy itself. The sight of it standing proud between his muscular thighs, the way it arches up towards his stomach, helps make your decision for you.

There’s a reason Ransom comes to you and only you.

You delight in his look of surprise as you saunter over towards him. It seems he thought you weren’t going to give him what he came here for and you smile at him as if you don’t intend to prove him wrong. He leans up off the wall behind him, sitting up and looking at you expectantly, the look of surprise only there for but a moment. It’s easy to let him think he’s won as you straddle him, as his hands find your hips and squeeze to the point of pain.

You aren’t surprised when his hands rise to cup your breasts, squeezing needily, but you are delighted nonetheless.

It’s an easy decision then, how the evening and your time together should play out.

You deserve to come. And you’re not sure if he does.

“Mama wants you inside of her,” you whisper hotly on Ransom’s mouth, rubbing your ass along the line of his cock, fingers of both hands sliding none too gently through his hair. “Are you going to be good and let Mama have what she wants?”

You can see the internal battle he’s putting himself through in his eyes, the way they somehow gleam with defiance yet soften with submission. You cling to that sign of submission and hum as he brings his mouth to your nipples. You run your fingers through his hair once more as he suckles loudly, pressing your breasts into his hands, into his mouth. Your pussy throbs at his treatment of you, at watching this man feast on your body. Your inner walls clench around nothing, the ache of it something fierce and making you feel a sliver of desperation.

So, you push.

“Let Mama come on your cock, baby,” you practically moan, reaching behind your body to grab at his cock. “Let Mama come on your big, baby cock. Let Mama sit on it.”

Ransom moans around his mouthful, squeezing your breasts together and reaching for your other nipple with his mouth. The look on his face forces a moan from your own mouth, that pretty, glazed look in his eyes making you ache between your legs even more.

“Mama,” is all he mumbles out against your skin, the both of you groaning when you press his cock against your waiting pussy. Your fingers dive back into his wet hair when you sink onto his cock, first the tip, then halfway down his shaft. There’s no exaggerating your need to ride the tip of his cock, to work yourself up to taking more of him.

“So big, baby. Your cock makes me feel so good.”

“Mama…”

“Say it, baby. Tell Mama you make her feel good.”

You know he won’t say it, won’t repeat your words about himself, but his reaction makes his disobedience worth it. Ransom’s moan sounds as if it grates against the front of his throat, long and drawn out, and it sounds like pure relief. A relief that only you can bring him. And isn’t that a heady reminder?

At first, you bounce on your knees, taking your time to adjust to the size of him. It doesn’t take you long though, not with how hungry you are for the feel of him inside of you, the stretch of him, and you’re quickly saddled in close and sitting in his lap. You can’t help the groan that slips easily from your mouth, the indulgent one, the long and drawn out one. It’s more than the feel of him inside of you; it’s the feel of him.

Ransom underneath you, pressed against you. His sizeable hands running from your hips, up to your back, squeezing at the nape of your neck, pulling you close and demanding your mouth on his. The feeling of him surrounding you as you rock yourself in his lap, as you use his body to make your own body feel impossible things, sensations you admittedly chase with others.

You wind your arms around his neck, tucking your face into the side of his own, moaning again at the feel of him everywhere; he fills you up like no one else can. He returns your moan in kind and you can feel, can sense, that he’s near his breaking point of complete submission.

That alone has your walls clenching down around the girth of him, has your stomach swooping as you gasp.

You rock harder in his lap, bouncing in it as you cling to one another.

“Mama…Mama.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Baby…yes. Yes.”

The harder he holds you against him, the more difficult it becomes to move, to bounce. But it’s the way you like it when you’re this close to your orgasm, the way he’s come to know how you like to be held; you want it taken from you. It’s almost savage in nature, how hard you have to force yourself against one another, how forcefully you have to ride him, to use him.

The sound of your skin slapping against his own, the sound of softness coming in contact with packed muscle, echoes against the shower walls and in your ears. The sensation of the stretch of your pussy around Ransom heightens, the pain, you let out a noise akin to a growl into his cheek, and—

“Take it,” Ransom whimpers through gritted teeth directly into your ear, hands sliding up your back to curl around your shoulders, to make you work harder for it. “Take it, mama. S’yours.”

It’s the submission you constantly crave, the high that burns its way throughout your entire being. This beautiful man, this man that is so unearthly dominant, so aggressive, gives you submission. Beautiful submission. He allows for you to use, allows for you to break him down, allows you to see a side that others couldn’t fathom. You’ll continue to fight for it, you’ve earned it over time, but it’s submission nonetheless. And nothing compares.

You look him in the eyes when you come.

You pull your head back out of his neck, dig your fingers into his scalp and hold him there while letting him see the results of what his submission has brought out of you. He can surely feel the way your pussy pulses around him, the way your body demands release from his own and makes a valiant attempt to milk his come from his cock, and you know he can hear you whining, but you always want him to see.

Because him watching you, his eyes frantically taking everything in and witnessing the result of him being good as it’s sprawled across your features, is the best part.

When your hips slow, when you’re sitting in his lap as you gasp for enough air to slow the beat of your heart, you recognize he’s truly giving you the submission you want.

Without prompt, without redirection, without reprimand; Ransom waits. He clings to you and you feel the way his body trembles against all the places his skin touches yours, his chest heaving as well, and you marvel at his desire to be good.

He comes to you for a reason. Your firm hand and expectations are ones different from the ones society places on his shoulders. People see hardness when they look at Ransom, see cockiness and an unjustifiable ego. They see a fight. But you see softness. You see years of unaddressed trauma present in the way he takes on the world head-first, see someone in desperate need of praise and comfort and trust.

Even if he sometimes seeks out your attention through negative antics such as breaking into your house while you’re away at work, he chooses you. You choose one another. And that coupled with the blooming bruises on his face, ones you’re taking note of again now that the feral haze of want is clearing after your orgasm, makes the decision easy for you.

“I want you to come,” you murmur against his lips, winding an arm around his shoulder as you use your opposite hand to stroke your fingers down his cheek. You rise up on your knees again, the two of you hissing at the sensations of two very different kinds of overstimulation. His hands fly to your hips, unabashedly whimpering against your mouth as he frantically shakes his head.

“No, Mama. Mama…”

He’s so far gone and so, so goddamn beautiful.

It’s your turn to whimper, but you nod your head in retaliation against the shake of his.

“Yes…yes,” is all you can say at first, the stretch and drag of his cock inside of you momentarily zapping all focus away from your mind. “Yes, I want you to come.”

“Mama…Mama, please.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You’ve been—”

The broken moan he pours onto your lips spurs your hips on, has you bouncing in his lap with renewed vigor. The drag of your nipples against his chest, your wet skin sliding easily against each other’s, overstimulates you further. You don’t give him another chance to further deny you what it is you both want.

“You’ve been so good for me, sweetheart,” you repeat, brushing the fingers of one hand through his hair and looking him in the eyes as you cling to him. “You deserve this. I want you to come. Mama wants it, baby. Mama wants it.”

“I don’t…fuck, but I don’t—”

You bite out a sharp noise.

“Hush. You’re going to come because you deserve it and because I want it. You’re good. You’re so good, baby.”

When Ransom’s breath hitches, when his arms wind around your bouncing frame and his mouth drops open, you know you’ve got him. It nearly makes you come again, the vulnerable look he gives you as he accepts your words of support and praise and climaxes from it.

The times when he comes with a gentleness about him, when he is most quiet, are your favorite. When you can feel him feeling his orgasm across every part of his body, when he almost looks at you with wide eyes as if he’s scared to feel this good, you can barely contain your own wave of emotion, the hitch in your breathing.

“That’s it, baby— give Mama what she wants.”

He shakes his way through his orgasm, clinging to you as if you’re safety and comfort personified, as if you’re the only thing that makes sense in a world that he has to fake his way through. Your own moans are broken, ragged even, the feeling of Ransom coming inside of you never failing to bring you an immense sense of purpose and pleasure.

He sucks down air as if he’s run a marathon, breaths whooshing against your neck. His grip is still painfully tight on your sides where he clings to you and his breaths sound damn near sorrowful. You run your hands along his shoulders and marvel at the strength that hides his softness. So strong, too strong. So soft.

Your eyes fall shut as your lips take in the softness of the skin of his neck and shoulder.

When they open again it’s because of the sensation of being picked up. And when you make a pitiful noise in protest of being carried out of the shower, you’re met with a taste of your own medicine.

“Hush. I’m allowed to take care of you too, Mama.”

You swear you feel yourself blush.

He sets you down on your bathroom counter, taking one of the towels you set out and drying you off with it. You watch him as he’s gentle with your body, as he squeezes the water from your hair. Your eyes follow him even as he dries his own body off, moving much more efficiently and quickly compared to how he cared for your body.

You want him to stay. You want him to stay for a long time. But you don’t dare vocalize your desire for him to stay with you; it will surely scare him away. You’re certain it’s obvious on your face though, with the way you look up at him and lean towards his touch as he begins to move a brush through your hair.

You know your thoughts are obvious when he pauses before reaching for you again, hands wrapped gently around the column of your throat as he gazes down at you.

Don’t look at me like that.

You can hear the words even if they are unspoken.

He’s said them to you before.

You’re ready for the inevitable sting of rejection when he pulls you up into his arms once more and carries you into your dimly lit bedroom. When he pulls back the duvet and manages to climb in with you in tow, the surprise written all over your face is surely something he chooses to ignore.

He reaches for your bedside lamp then, engulfing the room in total darkness, reaching for you next.

A level of emotional content washes over you as he settles into your bed beside you as if it’s something he does every night, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Your bodies meld together, your limbs intertwine, and your heart aches the moment the thought of you not being able to do this with other people crosses your mind. Aftercare, gentleness, snuggling, is something you have to force yourself through with others.

It seems you both yearn for things you can only find with each other. It seems that there's a reason you're pulled back to one another again and again.

His breaths are barely evening out, deepening, when you break the silence with a whisper as your fingers run up his back.

“You’re going to tell me who hurt you.”

The answer you get in response isn’t even a word; it’s a gruff noise.

You decide to not press the issue any further, promising both yourself and him that you’ll make whoever hurt him pay in your own special way, and tuck yourself into his neck.

One win at a time.

#my writing #howdoyousleep #kinktober 2024 #x reader #reader insert #female reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #let me know if i should put this one on Ao3

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estrellacercadelvolcan · 1 month ago

Text

Elaine's December Reading List (Christmas/Winter/New Year)

So, in the last few days, I started reading Christmas and Winter Fics. Those are absolutely amazing, and I'm at awe at the talent these authors possess. I had a lot of fun reading the stories, and because of this, I started making this "Christmas/Winter/New Year reading list". On the one hand, I wanted to thank the writers and give back some love. On the other hand, I hope that other people will see this list and come to love the Fics and authors as much as I do. (Besides that, through this list, I won't ever lose the stories ever again🤭)

I'm not sure if anyone will see this list, but just in case:

Please note that these stories aren't mine! Credits go to all these lovely authors. If anyone should see this and read the Fics, please show them some love.

The Fics are separated according to the different characters (Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Lloyd Hansen & Logan Howlett). Besides that, I listed the title and author. (The word count, genre indicator and my own thoughts are also sometimes listed.)

In the last few days I started the logging and commenting on the Fics, but due to life I didn't have the time yet to do this for every FIC on this list, but I'm still planning on doing this. Please be patient with me.

Be assured that I LOVE every single one of these amazing stories. Thank you to all the authors for writing and sharing them with us!♥️

Happy reading! ❤️

Bucky Barnes

Midnights kisses & Confetti Thieves @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Bucky x reader | 1.5K | fluff, implied smut

A Soldier's Second Chance @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Bucky Barnes x Reader | 5 parts | Bucky deserves to be happy & all the Love ❤️

It's Cold Outside @navybrat817

Bucky Barnesx x F. Reader | over 700 | slight Angst | So beautiful

Your first Christmas together @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes x Reader | smut Someone give me that for Christmas please. Naughty Christmas 🤭

From me to you @retrosabers

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | 2.4k | some angst, fluff

Jingle Bells a little different @buckyalpine

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | smut

All I want is you @buck-star

BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!F. Reader | fluff

How to cure a grump @holylulusworld

CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x F.Reader | 5 parts | angst, fluff | Fake Dating

Snowball Fight @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!f. Reader | 1.1k | fluff, implied/referenced sex

A Snowstorm, a Grump, and a Game @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

Christmas Chaos @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1.1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

The mistletoe tradition @witchywithwhiskey

Intern!Bucky Barnes x Boss!F. Reader | 4.5k |

Wishes come true @mercurial-chuckles

Bucky Barnes x reader |fluff

3-2-1 @holylulusworld

Post!Endgame Bucky Barnes x Reader |slight angst, fluff

Loki

All I want for Christmas @lokisgoodgirl

Avenger!Loki x F. Reader | 1.7K | fluff, mild angst

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas @joyful-enchantress

Loki x F. Reader | 2k | fluff, humor, slight angst

In the Bleak Midwinter @lokisgoodgirl

Loki x Reader | 3.4K | fluff

Mistletoe Mayhem @tilltheendwilliwrite

Loki x Reader | 3825 | fluff My personal must read for christmas

Slipping between future and past @muddyorbsblr

Timeslipping TVA!Loki x F. Reader/ OC Talía Williams | 3.8k | smut

The Golden Yule Hunt @societyfolklore

Loki x Asgardian Female Reader | 3.2K | smut

A Midgardian Christmas @just-the-hiddles

Loki x Reader | six parts

Man of the month @muddyorbsblr & @mochie85

Loki x F. Reader | 12 parts + Outtakes | smut, fluff, angst

I absolutely love this masterpiece and can't tell you how often I already reread it.

Secret notes @muddyorbsblr

Loki x F.Reader | 8 parts | fluff, slight angst

Birthday magic @holdmytesseract

Loki x F. Reader | 1.9 k | fluff, slight smut

Unrequited @glitchquake

Loki x F.Reader | fluff, hint to smut, slight angst

Day 18: Mistletoe @gremlin-girly

Loki x gn. Reader | fluff | established relationship

Steve Rogers

Santa Baby @brunchable

Steve Rogers x F. Reader | fluff

First Christmas @navybrat817

Steve Rogers x Reader | 100 | fluff

Winter Wonderland @biteofcherry

Dom!Steve Rogers x Plus Size F. Reader | fluff

Wise men say! @mercurial-chuckles

Steve Rogers x Reader | 99 | fluff

This time of year @witchywithwhiskey

Friend!Steve Rogers x F.Reader | 11.9k | fluff, light angst, smut

Logan Howlett

Last Christmas @pandapetals

Logan Howlett x F. Reader | angst, fluff

Ari Levinson

Ari's and Sunshine's first Christmas @angrythingstarlight

Biker!Ari Levinson x F. Reader

Cold fingers, warm hands @witchywithwhiskey

Ari Levinson x F. Reader | 1K | f So fluffy and cozy

Bad Santa @holylulusworld

Santa!Ari Levinson x Naughty Lister !Reader x Jack Frost!Steve Rogers

Cross-Country Christmas @cevansbrat0007

Bounty Hunter!Ari Levinson x F. Reader| angst, smut

Ransom Drysdale

A Christmas Compromise @stargazingfangirl18

Ransom Drysdale x F. Reader | 5478 | smut

His cookie @buck-star

BestFriend!Ransom Drysdale x BestFriend! F. Reader | 1157 | fluff, some allusions to sexual wording

Lloyd Hansen

Wetnessday Anon's Ask to Siri @stargazingfangirl18

Lloyd Hansen x F. Reader

Jack O'Malley

Tricked @thezombieprostitute

Jack O'Malley & F. Reader

The Avengers

A Christmas Carol @sycamorelibrary754

The Avengers x reader (platonic) | 4.6k | mentions of past trauma, grief and death

I wish every single one of you a very happy Christmas!💜🎄

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thezombieprostitute · 6 months ago

Note

Zombie, what would you do if you were stuck in a room with Ransom for 24 hours?

That entirely depends: do we know we're being let out after 24 hours?

If so, we'd probably do our best to ignore each other the whole time. Just stay in our respective corners and barely acknowledge each other.

But if we don't know? Hmm....

Warnings: Claustrophobic setting, Ransom being an asshole

Word Count: ~1.1k

The elevator lurches, making you and the only other passenger stumble. The lights flicker and you feel a lump in your throat, scared about what the flickering indicates. You know it's almost impossible to actually be killed in an elevator malfunction, but that lizard part of your brain won't listen.

"What the fuck is this?" The other passenger is quick to steady himself.

"Elevator trouble," you can't help but blurt out.

"Well thanks for stating the obvious!" He glares at you as he pulls out his cell phone. "Gotta call the fucking fire department. Gonna be fucking late to my appointment. Trapped in here with an idiot."

"Emergency phone," you quietly say while pointing to the standard, big, red 'Emergency' button.

He huffs as he puts his phone away and presses the button. He snipes at the operator for several minutes before finally giving in and admitting defeat. It's gonna be hours before help arrives.

You set down your cardigan and sit. Checking your phone you see that the signal is weak. Thankfully you've got some books downloaded.

The other passenger, however, starts pacing and seems to be working himself up more and more. You're not trying to listen in but he's not being very quiet. You just stick to your improvised seat and try to read.

Eventually the man practically flops onto the elevator floor. He looks at you, "so what's your deal?"

Startled out your reading you shake your head, "what?"

He sighs, "I said, what's. Your. Deal."

"Just, just trying to get to work."

"Let me guess, accountant? You're definitely too big to be a secretary. You don't dress poorly enough to be an IT person. But you're definitely boring enough to be a numbers person."

You raise an eyebrow, "you must be one of Mr. Barber's clients. He tends to represent rich assholes."

The man laughs at that, "you'd be right! So you work for Barber?"

"Paralegal for Mr. Barber, yes."

"Hugh Drysdale," he tells you.

You wrinkle your brow in confusion, "I know there's a Ransom Drysdale on the schedule. I guess I was right that it's a fake name."

"No," he chides. "Ransom is my middle name and it's what I usually go by. Except for the help." He gestures to you at the last word. "The help calls me Hugh, my first name."

You bite back a retort. He's one of your boss's clients. You have to at least pretend to be nice.

"How about you share some of your food? I missed breakfast and could use something to settle my stomach." You give him another confused look and he rolls his eyes. "You're on your way to work. Even if you didn't pack your own lunch, a girl your size definitely has food in her purse or something."

"I was running late and didn't have time to pack anything," you tell him. "I figured I could get a few things from the vending machine."

"You've gotta be shitting me," he whines. "Well, you're no good to me. Might as well go back to your book."

You nod and go back to reading. You've barely finished a paragraph when Drysdale starts talking to you again.

"What kind of crap are you reading, anyways?" You tell him the title and author and he scoffs. "Seriously, why the hell would you read that crap?"

"Because it's more entertaining than this conversation," you calmly tell him, trying to read.

"I call bullshit." He proceeds to go on a tangent about the decline of literary quality over the past decade. Sure, he makes a few good points, but you're really not interested in his better-than-you opinions.

Every time you try to go back to reading he starts talking again. It's like he can't handle not having attention and it's really grating on your nerves. Especially when he repeats his question about whether or not you have food. You really wish you did if only so it could occupy him for a minute or two.

But then you realize something. "Do you talk a lot when you're scared?"

He stops mid-sentence and glares. "What the hell makes you think I'm scared? I don't get scared!"

"So you're an attention whore? Because why else would you keep talking? It's either that you need the attention or that you're trying to keep yourself calm by talking about other things."

“Don't try to psychoanalyze me,” he scolds. “You don't get to tell me about me based on a few minutes.”

“It's been several hours by now,” you point out. “And you were trying to figure out 'my deal' based on my looks within the first few minutes.”

“Yes, but I'm the client, you're the help. I talk, you listen. I ask, you tell.”

“Aww, does baby need a nap?” You give him a fake pout. You're on your last nerve and this asshole isn't making it any better. He glares at you but you're not having it. “Listen, we're stuck here for who knows how long. Either we try to get along, or we ignore each other because being annoying won't help anyone.”

“We are getting along,” he counters. “Until you started being a bitch.”

“Since we've been trapped, you've made fun of my looks, my job, my reading interests and repeatedly told me my status is beneath you. How is that getting along?”

You see his angry arrogance drop for a moment when he says, “you were actually listening to me.” Before you can comment he shakes his head and the arrogance is back. “Look, I'm not having a good time, of course. Neither of us are, but I'm not scared and I'm NOT an attention whore.”

“Then you'll have no problem if I go back to reading.”

“Nope. You go ahead and I'll be quiet so you can have your precious reading time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drysdale.”

You let yourself get back into your story. You're so enthralled you don't notice Drysdale's foot tapping incessantly. His nibbling at his fingers. His near constant glancing at the emergency phone.

“Okay, fine.” His voice cuts through and you stop your reading. “I'm...I'm scared. I know, statistically, chances of death or injury are very small. But I'm still...”

“Thank you for being honest,” you tell him. You put your phone in your pocket. “You mentioned that you arrived in a BMW? How do keep that car maintained? I imagine parts are difficult to come by.”

Drysdale perks up and starts talking a-mile-a-minute about the cost of his car but how and why it's worth all of it. The entire time he's talking, the tension in the elevator seems to lessen. You hope for rescue soon but at least being trapped is no longer a complete nightmare.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

#zombie asks #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader

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buck-star · 9 months ago

Text

Just one kiss | Lloyd Hansen

// Pairing //

-> DrugDealer!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

// Summary //

-> Your best friend — Ransom Drysdale — asks you to buy special pills for him. You don’t know what he means and you didn’t know that the dealer isn’t like Ransom described the man.

// Wordcount //

-> 4.586 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content

-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, Ransom is a dick, innocent!Reader (really innocent!), talking about drugs, manipulation, non/dub-con, Lloyd being Lloyd, blackmail, innocence kink, daddy kink, handjob, oral (male!receiving), cumming on the face, cum play, finger sucking, degrading, praises

// Authors Note //

-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for all those comments and for proofreading.

-> Written for the “Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza” Event hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18.

Prompt: Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

// Masterlist | Lloyd Hansen Masterlist //

“Come one, please! He is so nice and I just ask you for that favor. Best friends do that for their best friends, princess,” Ransom says, pouting slightly when you still look unsure about his ask.

You play with your fingers, sliding them over the short pink skirt you’re wearing because your best friend asked you to do so. Aren’t you already a good best friend because you always wear what Ransom asks you to wear?

“Ransom, I—I don’t know. I’ve never bought something from him. And m—my parents always say to not get too close to him — to Lloyd Hansen,” you say, his name only a whisper afraid that someone could hear you.

“Princess, I wouldn’t ask when it wouldn’t really mean something to me,” he says, his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver slightly under his soft touch. “I will give you the money, please.”

“Why don’t you go there yourself?” You ask, looking at him suspiciously. He chuckles, his fingers dig into your soft skin and you hiss softly about his sudden roughness.

“Lloyd and I, uhm, we had some differences in the past and he told me to piss off,” Ransom confesses, scratching the back of his neck.

It wasn't a lie, Lloyd doesn’t really like Ransom but the actual reason he wants you to go there is because sweet, innocent girls like you get better offers than Ransom would get.

“Don’t you love me, princess?” Your best friend asks, his smile fades away and he tilts his head down, avoiding your gaze. He also removes his hand from your thigh, causing your heart to ache. You don’t like to offend your best friend, especially not to make him sad just because of something he asks you to buy.

“I do love you, Ran,” you mumble, moving closer to capture his cheeks with your hands. You lift his head so he has to look into your eyes and then you kiss his nose, smirking when he does. “I will buy it for you, what do you want me to buy?”

“Some special pills. Nothing big, just tell him that you want a small bag of special pills, then Lloyd knows what you ask for, princess,” Ransom says, his grin back on his lips. You nod, letting go of his cheeks and crawl into his lap, cuddling into him, while he wraps his arms around your small body and pulls you closer.

You’re such a good girl for him, he loves how innocent you are — his sweet girl would do everything he asks for when he just plays the right cards. He loves it, his dick loves your innocence not less. It’s growing and throbbing in his pants while you cuddle you cuddle yourself into his tall, muscular body.

“Ran! You forgot your keys in your pocket!” You complain, rolling your eyes playfully. Ransom laughs, pulling you even closer and leans down to your ear.

“That’s not my key, princess. That’s my cock,” he mumbles, causing your eyes to widen and shift slightly. No matter where you try to sit you have his cock point into your ass or back.

Every slight movement on his lap makes Ransom groan and his dick growing even more. “Why isn’t it moving to the side?”

Fuck! Your innocence makes him go crazy and he just wants to destroy your little pussy, wants to fill you with his cum and make you come and scream over his cock over and over again. Tears would stream down your cheeks but you would beg for more and he would gladly give it to you, fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him.

“Don’t you know what that is? My cock.” He asks, raising his eyebrow when you shake your head ashamed. Ransom smirks even wider, his fingers draw small circles on your back, grinning you over his hard cock. “I will explain it to you at some point but first you go to Lloyd and buy what I asked you to buy.”

Ransom brought you to Lloyd’s house, even when it’s more like a mansion. A cold shiver runs along your spine when Ransom lets you step out of the car, hurrying you to finally drive to a park slot on the side.

“What happened between you and Lloyd actually, why doesn't he want you to buy something?” You ask innocently while you don’t make a move to get out of the car.

Sweat is running his face down when he looks in all directions. Would Lloyd see him near his mansion he would probably torture him until he begs for forgiveness. “I— uhm. I accidentally shot him in his ass.”

You giggle, then you get out of the car and wave with a soft smile at Ransom before you make your way along the path to the big building. Your hands start to sweat and you press them against the skirt as an attempt to cover more of your bare legs.

Lloyd watches you already from the window, his tongue slides over his lips, while he smirks. So innocent. He groans quietly, turning around to make his way to a chair in the middle of the room. He fucking loves to see those girls all sweet standing there and asking him nicely and cute for some special pills — going to parties with them but you? You look so different, so innocent, so untouched.

His dick is growing when he’s deepening his thoughts about what he could do with you, letting you twirl for him, lifting your skirt. He wants to see you, all of you — you’re so different to all these other girls.

But his thoughts get interrupted when someone is knocking at the door, when he growls a low ‘yes’ you open the door and look at him. His hair is slicked back, mustache and white pants with a shirt — exactly how everyone describes him. He smirks at you, leaning back in his chair, his legs spread open and his hands resting on his thighs.

“Come in, little one,” he tells you. His eyes are roaming over your body and you want to make yourself even smaller. With a short movement you close the door behind you and walk further toward him.

“H—Hi,” you mumble, looking down, your shoes suddenly the most interesting thing you have ever seen. The creaking noise of the chair makes your eyes widen, hearing him walking closer to you, your body tenses and a quiet whimper leaves your lips.

“What can I do for such a sweet girl like you?” He sounds nice, not like your parents told you. His hand grasps your chin, tilting your head back so you have to look into his eyes, he is grinning down at you, while he leans closer and there are only inches between your faces.

“I— My best friend — Ransom. H—He wants me to buy some special pills for him,” you explain, body trembling under the intense gaze of the older man. Lloyd smirks, his hands finding their way to your hips and he pulls you flat against his muscular chest.

“Mhm, Ransom?” He asks, knowing exactly who he is. When you nod, his grin widens and he pulls you with him closer to the chair. You’re too focused not to just turn around and run out of the building so you don’t really realize that Lloyd leads you to the chair where he lets himself fall down and holds you still between his thick, muscular thighs. “Are you his girl, little one?”

“N—No, he is my best friend,” you mumble, looking at your hands. Even though Lloyds hands are warm and his grip is firm, you still feel uncomfortable there. The building is so big, there aren’t many people you have seen and the owner of that mansion is holding you just inches away from him by your hips.

“You’re his best friend, know your parents. Strict ones, do they know that their pretty girl is visiting me here? Do your parents know you’re here, little one?” He asks, and you shake your head slowly.

Your parents would never allow you to visit Lloyd Hansen, he is famous — famous for drugs and illegal things. “Please, don’t tell them. You won’t tell them, right?”

“Mhm— but you need to give me something for that then, can you do this?” His voice is soft and the smile on his face widens. He pulls you onto his thigh, moving your hips slowly forward and backward before he stops and lifts his one hand to grasp your chin once again. He tilts your head up, looking straight into your eyes and you feel like he can look into your soul.

“Do you want more money?” You ask, so innocently that his dick is hurting while it presses against the fabric of his white pants.

“No, can you give me something else?” He asks, fingers digging into your waist while he holds your chin still with his other hand to look into your eyes. His cock twitches when you whimper softly, thinking about something you could offer him.

“W—What do you want to have?” His grin widens, when it's even possible. He just waited for you to ask that unless you tell him what he wants to hear. But since you’re just as innocent as you look he is glad you asked him what he would like to have so he won’t tell your parents about your little visit in the Hansen mansion.

“Kiss me,” he mumbles, leaning back while he lets go of your chin and places that hand on your waist as well. Your eyes widen and you whimper, shaking your head.

“Please, I—I never kissed someone, not even sure how that works. C—Can I just give you more money?” You try but he just ignores your attempts to convince him to give him something else.

“Little one, I’m rich. I don’t need what you offer me. You have two opportunities. First; you give me what I want. Second; I take what I want,” he explains, grinding you on his thigh. A tingling feeling erupts between your legs and you try to press them together causing Lloyd to chuckle darkly. “I always get what I want, pretty girl. And look how needy you are, clenching your tights like a desperate slut.”

“I’m not a slut!” You raise your eyebrow until his grip tightens and you immediately blush. You don’t want to upset him, scared of him. Your body still trembles slightly but the pressure between your legs grows especially when he just holds you, instead of grinding you on his thigh to give you some relief.

“I know, you’re a pretty innocent girl.” He sits up, straight and your lips are suddenly so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. Lloyd groans when you move closer against him, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock and your eyes widen.

“I—Is that also your cock? R—Ransoms was hard too earlier,” you tell him, looking down where you just feel his hard bulge pressing against you. A low chuckle leaves his lips, causing you to look into his eyes again.

“That’s my cock, when you kiss me already you can see it. Do you want to see it?” You nod slightly, and he feels his cock twitch once again. Your innocence makes him go crazy, you’re on his lap, willing to kiss him so he won’t tell your parents that you are visiting him. And willing so you can see his throbbing cock.

Even when you would have said no, he already knew the kiss isn’t everything he wants from you. When such a sweet and innocent girl walks into his mansion and makes his cock painfully hard and throbbing he will definitely use that to fuck you or at least have you suck off his cock.

You lean slightly forward, you don’t know why but something changes inside of you and you feel comfortable around Lloyd and you really want to see his cock since Ransom wasn’t explaining it to you. So you press your lips softly against his, just a moment before you pull back and giggle softly.

“Your mustache tickles, Mr. Hansen,” you say, reaching out your hand to slide your fingers over his mustache. You're so perfect for him, so innocent but still so confident when you feel comfortable. He is sure he won’t let you go that easy; you’re his now — his little one, Lloyd's pretty girl.

“Was that a kiss, little one? Give Daddy a real kiss,” he asks, raising his eyebrow when you nod slowly. He laughs, capturing your cheeks with his hands and pulling you closer, his lips pressing on yours with such force that you gasp. You part your lips slightly, and Lloyd uses the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan.

You press him by his chest away, his cheeks heating up, and you look down at your lap. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want to moan.”

“Ahh, pretty girl. Let me hear you moan again, yeah?” Before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands slide to your back and lower down until he grabs your ass, squeezing harshly and causing another moan to leave your lips.

When he lets you pull away, you breathe heavily, your hands resting on his muscular chest while you look into his eyes. They are a little darker than before, filled with an emotion you have seen in Ransom's eyes sometimes — mostly when his hand slid up your leg underneath your skirt until you moved away from your best friend with a questioning look.

Lloyd's hands are still capturing your cheeks. He smirks at you, his eyes roaming down your body to your chest, biting his lip before his gaze slides lower to your short skirt. “Do your parents know that you look like a little desperate slut with such short skirts?”

“N—No, Ransom asked me to wear it for him. Don’t you like it?” Lloyd chuckles, one hand making its way to your skirt, and he slips it underneath the fabric, stroking the soft skin of your thigh. He groans, his fingers moving closer to your panties, but you grasp his arm just before his fingertip is touching your pussy.

“It looks pretty, little one. Now get up so I can show you my cock. What do you think?” He asks softly before pushing you off his lap. You immediately stand up and wait in front of him while he unbuckles his belt and lets his white pants fall down his thick, muscular thighs.

In his boxers is a big bulge, and you guess that’s what he meant. What you didn’t think of was that he was going to push the fabric down as well. His weeping cock slaps against his stomach; the tip is red, and a vein is running along the underside of his huge length.

“You can touch it, pretty girl.” You shake your head, just looking at his length, before you look him in the eyes again. “Do you want me to tell your parents that you’re going out in such a slutty outfit that you were sitting on my lap and kissing me?”

“P—Please, don't tell them,” you say quietly, a small pout on your lips. Lloyd chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips, kissing the pout softly away. Then he places his pants between the two on the ground before he pushes you by your shoulders down until you’re on your knees, looking up at him with your innocent gaze.

“Take it in your hand. Wrap your little fingers around Daddy's huge cock. Can you do that?” He asks so softly that you nod and lift your arms, placing one on his thick thigh.

“But you’re not my daddy, Mr. Hansen,” you mumble, looking at him with your innocent and now slightly confused gaze.

“I’m your daddy now, little one. I take care of you, don’t I?” When you slightly nod he grins wide and points at his hard, leaking cock. You bring your other hand to his cock and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

Lloyd groans, throwing his head back when your soft skin touches his cock. He then looks back down at you, waiting for you to move your hand, but you're just sitting there and staring at his cock in your hand. His dick twitches in your hand, more pre-cum leaking down his red tip when he thinks about everything he could do with you — taking your virginity and making you his — Lloyds Hansen’s pretty girl.

“Move your hand, little one.” You look up; your eyes widen when he gives you more instructions. You thought he would let you go after you kissed him, so why does he want you to move your hand around his cock?

“But you said only a kiss,” you mumble, your eyes watering — your emotions are overwhelming; you feel so embarrassed, but at the time, you don’t want Lloyd to tell your parents that you’re here. And his cock feels not bad in your hand either. He places his hand around yours, grip tightens while he moves your hand up and down his thick length.

“Good girl,” Lloyd praises, his hand tightening even more around yours and his cock, while he picks up the pace. He groans, his hips thrusting up when you move your hand at a slow pace up and down his cock. “Doin’ so well, little on. Now let's try something else: open your mouth and take my dick into your mouth.

“No, Mr. Hansen, please. I’ve never done that before; I—I don’t think I wanna do that,” you say, quietly and not looking up. Your grip around his cock loosens, and you place both of your hands on your thighs.

“You don’t want to?” He asks, his voice dangerously sweet, and you shiver lightly. When you shake your head, he grasps your hair, tugging harshly at it and making you look at him. “I don't care; you're gonna suck my cock, or I will tell your parents that you begged me to fuck you, want that? Want your parents to know that you’re nothing but a little whore?”

You don't really listen to him; your thoughts are running wild, and tears are building in your eyes, making their way slowly down your cheeks. Lloyd wipes his thumb over your cheeks to wipe the tears away; they just turn him on even more — he didn't know you could turn him on even more, but you do. His other hand is still tugging painfully at your hair.

“Then be a good girl and do what Daddy asks for. Now take it in your mouth, or I will make you take it,” he groans, waiting a moment for you to move, but you just sit there, quietly crying and staring at his cock. Lloyd sighs, pushing your head closer to his cock and wrapping his own hand around his base. He brings his cock to your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them before he pushes his tip between your lips.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows before he taps his hand softly on your cheek until you open your mouth wider and he is able to push his cock into your mouth.

Lloyd doesn’t give you much time before he shoves his cock down your throat. You immediately gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thick thighs while he holds you in place for a moment. Your eyes water, and you try to pull away, but the older man’s grin is too tight for you to move away.

“Fuck, pretty mouth feeling so good,” he growls, pulling out of you and giving you a moment to inhale deeply.

“Please, don’t; it’s so big,” you whimper, trying to push him away from you. But at your next attempt to say something, he shoves his huge length into your mouth and down your throat again. Your teeth scratch along his soft skin, causing him to buck his hips forward.

He pulls you off his cock, leaning forward until his face is next to yours. Lloyd is biting into your earlobe, causing you to yelp. “Open your mouth wider, like the good slut you are for me.”

“B—But your cock is so big, Daddy,” you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. When he pulls you back and smirks at you, causing you to be slightly scared — he looks so soft and at the same time something dark is glistening in his eyes and expression.

“You will get used to it. Fuck— should keep you just for me; what do you think, little one?” He asks, chuckling when you try to shake your head. You open your mouth wider when he presses the tip of his cock against your lips. Lloyd shoves his cock into your mouth, smirking proudly when your teeth aren’t scratching against his huge dick. You’re once again gagging around his length; the tears are falling down your cheeks, and saliva is dripping down your mouth. “Daddy told you he gets what he wants. And when he wants to keep you, then he will! So be good and suck my dick and breathe through your nose.”

Your nails dig almost painfully into the skin of his thigh, grounding yourself. When you breathe through your nose like he told you, you don’t gag that much around his cock anymore. He thrusts every now and then his hips, resting his dick in your mouth before he pulls out to give you a moment to breathe deeply.

You look with such an innocent gaze at Lloyd that he feels like he has to come immediately. Your saliva drips down, landing on your thighs, while his whole cock is covered in it as well. Lloyd growls, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue licking the underside of his cock, while you swallow his length down your throat — you’re the best and sweetest girl he could have imagined when you walked into his mansion earlier.

He looks down at you, meeting your innocent eyes. You look adorable with his cock down your throat. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are for me, huh?”

After a few more thrusts, he pushes out, and you look at him, confused. Maybe you did something wrong? “Did I do something wrong? Didn’t it feel good?”

Suddenly, you just want to make him feel good; you want him to praise you — calling you his good girl, and give him what he is asking for.

“You did so well for me, swallowing my cock like a good girl. But I wanna come all over your face — want to paint your face with my cum,” he tells you, smirking when you look even more confused. “Let Daddy take care of it."

You nod, looking at his length, which is covered in your saliva when he wraps his hand around it. He then moves his hand at a steady pace, his hand wiping over his tip. It looks hot when he does that, panting and fucking his hand, his cock twitching, and he almost hits your face when he thrusts forward.

His lips are parted, and the veins on his arm are poking out while he looks at you, groaning loudly. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out!”

You do as he says and stick out your tongue. He grins at you, jerking himself off over your tongue. With a loud growl and a harsh thrust into his hand, he comes all over your face. His cum shoots out of his red tip, landing on your tongue and all over your face, while he fucks himself through the orgasm.

“Looking so sexy with my cum all over your pretty face, pretty girl,” he says, letting go of his cock and reaching out to graze his fingers with his cum. He then brings them to your mouth and pushes them between your lips. “Lick them clean.”

You twirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning his fingers and tasting his salty cum. You hum satisfied, addicted to his taste.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it,” he says, fingers still in your mouth, pushing your tongue down. He then removes them and grazes them in his cum once again, this time he licks then cleans himself, tongue curling around his digits. His other hand grasps your chin, his thumb pushing into your mouth and you immediately suck at it. “So good for Daddy, huh? I should give you a reward, don’t you think?”

Your eyes widen and you nod, not exactly knowing what he means, but it doesn’t sound bad. And even though he can be a bit rough sometimes, he is still really nice and sweet with you.

“Get up, so I can pick you up and we can continue in my bedroom,” he says softly, and you immediately obey. When you stand in front of him, he leans down, pressing his lips softly against yours before he picks you up. His hands rest underneath your ass, squeezing your cheeks while he walks out of the room.

“B—But Ransom is waiting for me outside in the car,” you mumble, pulling away from Lloyd to look into his beautiful blue eyes. You haven’t recognized the bit of green in them, but it looks beautiful, and you get lost in them for a moment.

Lloyd smirks. One of his hands lets go of you, but you hold yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist. He looks for his phone, which is placed on a small shelf. He takes it and unlocks it. Lloyd taps a few times on his phone before you hear the familiar sound when you call someone.

“Princess?” Ransom's voice comes through the loudspeaker. You giggle, placing your head on his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

“Not exactly, but she is here. She is fine. Calm down. I will take care of my pretty girl, won’t I, little one?” Lloyd says, chuckling, before he squeezes your ass once again. You giggle, making Ransom gasp. “Brought me such a sweet and innocent girl; I guess I will keep her here. Make her my Mrs. Hansen.”

Before Ransom can say something, Lloyd hangs up and places his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. You haven’t noticed that you’re already in his room, but you smirk when he places you on his bed, kissing your lips before he moves down to your neck. He is sucking and biting softly on your sensitive skin.

“Now let’s get you out of your clothes and show Daddy your pretty body, all mine. Understand, you’re mine, pretty girl,” he says, looking at you. You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, and let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands roam over your body, causing a tingling in your pussy. He grins, already thinking about the way he will claim you and make you his — his pretty girl.

He really likes you, falling slowly for you — your sweetness and innocence steal his heart from him, and he gladly gives it to you. Even though he isn’t used to take care of someone he just fucked but he gladly takes care of his pretty girl.

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months ago

Text

| 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.

Thanks for reading~

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